Lianna pulled away from the waiting damsel who was attempting, with sorely tried patience, to plait a string of pearls into Lianna’s hair. “You have no choice.” Margaret of Bavaria, Lianna’s aunt by marriage, stood beside a huge open chest. Noontide light from the chamber window streamed over the duchess’s handsome Germanic face. Lianna glared. “It was not my choice to be dragged here in my bedgown.” “That is neither here nor there, Belliane. I should think you’d be grateful that the baron has brought such a magnificent trousseau.” With a wave of her bejeweled hand, the duchess indicated the contents of the chest. Venetian silks, brocaded velvets, and fine linens crammed the coffer. Stooping, Margaret picked up a royal blue cloak trimmed with gray fur. “The miniver on this must have cost a small fortune.” “More’s the pity for the squirrels whose bellies were robbed of their fur for the sake of fashion.”
