“Like what?”
“I want you to reunite with Rafael.”
Fran blinks. “But—”
“As his personal assistant of three years, it is my obligation to ensure that Rafael’s working life runs as smoothly as it can. I am astoundingly good at my job, Francesca, but I am not so skilled with…affairs of the heart. Right now, Rafael seems to want something of an emotional connection. He told some bizarre story about seeing you in a wedding dress”—she looks Fran up and down again—“and that he immediately knew it was undying love…or something. Either way, as annoying as he was when he was with you, he is worse without. So essentially, you need to get back together. Otherwise, I shall end up throwing things at him.”
Fran listens, astounded. Of all the people to be playing matchmaker, she never thought it would be Mimi.
“You genuinely think he still loves me?”
“I know so. Unfortunately for Rafael, he is too proud and perhaps too scared to admit it. He hasn’t had a serious girlfriend in all the years I’ve worked with him. You’re the first…the only one that… Anyway, perhaps you’ll see to it?”
Fran looks down. “If he wants me,” she says quietly, “then he needs to come to me himself.”
“Then I shall tell him that,” says Mimi.
“Hey,” says Fran, a thought crossing her mind as Mimi makes to leave, “you’re getting married soon, right?”
“In a week.”
“And you have a dress?”
Mimi frowns. “I’ve scheduled a shopping appointment on Friday afternoon.”
“Leaving it late. Any thoughts about style?”
“Style? Why should I be concerned about style? I shall select the kind of dress I usually wear, that my fiancé is used to seeing me in, so that he’ll know he’s marrying me and not some trussed-up, little bridal zealot in white.”
“Not so little, though, since you’re tall. In fact…how tall are you? Six foot?”
“Six foot one barefoot, I believe.”
Fran grins. “In that case,” she says, the hint of a dress match bubbling in her soul, “I think I have the dress for you.” She directs Mimi to the window, where the 1930s fishtail shimmers.
“No,” says Mimi flatly. “That’s not for me.”
“Trust me,” says Fran, a glint in her eye, “once you’ve tried this beauty on, life will never be the same again. Mimi, you are about to discover your inner joie de vivre.”
* * *
They both made mistakes, she knows that. Both allowed their past-made fears of commitment to drive a wedge between them, both failed to empathize, to live a moment in each other’s shoes, but perhaps this is love. Confusing. Contradictory. Its dizzying wonders constantly beggared by uncertainties. That evening, still wearing the Alessandra Colt dress, touched with an eerie, billowing lightness, Fran’s instincts draw her out of the shop. Before she can question them, her hand reaches up, hails an oncoming taxi. She climbs in.
“Where to?”
“Epping Forest,” she says. “There’s a house there. It’s hard to find, but I’ll direct you. It’s called Dryad’s Hall.”
The house is silent, its glossy fringe of rhododendrons shivering in the breeze. The lock on the front door is loose. Fran pushes the door gently and wanders inside, into the ghostly rooms with their sad, soft vacancy. She looks around for memories of Alessandra but feels nothing, almost as though, without its furniture and personal effects, the spirit of the house has deadened. Then a butterfly lands on the dusty window ledge, stops briefly, and flutters away. Fran’s senses prickle. There, at the window, suddenly she can see her…Alessandra. Older now, a mature woman, silently gazing across her beautiful garden.
Fran reaches out. “Alessandra,” she says, desperate to hold on to what she knows can’t remain.
Immediately the imagining fades. Just before it vanishes completely, however, the diminishing face of Alessandra turns. She looks at Fran in the dress, her wedding dress, those soft folds of white silk, the sumptuous lace overlay, those delicate beaded, embroidered hummingbirds, symbols of infinity. She smiles kindly, looks back to her garden, then is gone completely.
For ten minutes, Fran stands alone, staring at the empty window. There is peace now—she can feel it. Alessandra has found peace. Curious, she wanders through the deserted hallway, to the library and the terrace at the back. The door is ajar so she walks outside, makes her way down to the ornamental gardens, to Rafael’s bridge, where they stood that evening and talked about how, next time, his troubles would be behind him. Maybe they are, one way or another.
In the soft evening light, she walks to the middle, leans over the balustrade, the wedding dress billowing in the breeze, and vows to be strong for Alessandra. She drops a leaf into the water, turns to go, and then, through the haze, he is there. He comes to the bridge, his tall, fine form as real as the sun. In silence, they lean together, bathed in amber end-of-day light, gazing at the frogs on the water lilies.
“They don’t turn into princes,” says Fran quietly.
“Nor do they look good in wedding dresses,” says Rafael.
They face each other.
“It’s a bit of a mess,” he says.
“Us or the dress?”
“Let’s start with us.”
“I’m sorry I let you down,” she says, eyes glassy with tears. “I never meant to cause any stress for you or your sister. And I’m also sorry I couldn’t explain myself. The truth is, that night at the Café Royal, I saw my ex—or at least a photo of him—on the side of a bus outside the venue. He’s an actor in films.” She sighs. “He broke my heart years ago, jilted me at the altar. Ruined me. When I saw his image, in that moment, I panicked. I got it in my head that it was a warning, the world’s way of saying: No, Fran, don’t let down your guard, don’t fall in love again. The point is, for the past ten years, I’ve been kidding myself that I’m over the heartbreak, when in reality, all I’ve done is bury it.”
“Oh, Fran,” says Rafael, his face touched by sorrow.
“But”—Fran brightens, meets his gaze, and smiles—“I’m letting it go. I’ve faced it, and now I’m letting it go for good. Finally, I’ve realized I want to move on. Because I want…I want…” She trembles, heart pounding. “I want to be happy. As you can see”—she looks down at the swathes of lace—“I got the dress back off Karina T. It felt like the only thing I could do. She butchered it. I should have known—she was always the wrong bride for it.”
“So who is the right bride?”
Fran smiles. “Actually, I’m not so sure it needs a bride. I’m starting to wonder if maybe…” She runs a hand down the wounded silk, its beauty shining despite its scars. “Maybe it has another purpose.”
“Maybe it does,” says Rafael, almost like he believes her.
Then he reaches out, takes her hand in his—the first physical contact they’ve had in weeks.
And it feels like fire.
epilogue
The proposal comes one blustery October afternoon, among the autumn colors of Epping Forest. Owing to Fran’s observance that Rachel and Melissa are both, in their ways, doing well after their encounters with whispering dresses, Rafael, always wanting to be a man of his word, honors his bet—and the call of his heart—and gets down on one knee.
Two months later, in the rooms of the Savoy, one of London’s most historic grand hotels, Miss Francesca Delaney becomes Mrs. Francesca Colt.
As for a wedding dress, Fran surprises everyone by making her own from scratch, like she’d always wanted to. She is breathtaking in a bright-white halter neck with mermaid skirt, bare shoulders, and a scooped back. She ordered the fabric from Paris, worked six days nonstop. Rafael cannot help but beam at her, his shimmering bride who has hurtled into his life, who he has fought with, slept with, laughed with, escaped with, and told the best and worst of his innermost secrets to. He loves
her so much, so completely, so definitively.
Mick gives her away and makes a heartfelt speech:
“You know what my old mum used to say: she said love will find its way. Cliché, I know, but this was a woman who reunited with her childhood sweetheart at the ripe old age of seventy-two, having been widowed for over a decade. Rafael, Fran, all you need to remember is that love finds its way—just stop putting barriers in its path.”
Mick is delighted to be sporting an original gentleman’s frock coat and top hat, and even more delighted that it has garnered interest from Janey, who, sober, straight-haired, and wickedly playful, seems like a promising new companion, now that Francesca has a husband to hang out with. The occasion is celebrated with many of Fran’s old brides, including Rachel, Ella, Melissa, and Kate Fugles, who happens to be pregnant with twins but is still rock and roll.
As for Mimi, fresh from wedding-dom herself, she looks dazzling in a daring orange slip dress and an enormous statement fascinator. She is also, much to Fran’s enjoyment, relatively smiley. But the smiliest of all is Fran’s mum, who is only too delighted to see her brilliant daughter finally exorcise those actor-related demons and find the marital happiness she deserves.
The Alessandra Colt dress has found its way into one of Fabian Alexia’s glass display cases—apart from one loose embroidered hummingbird, rescued and sewn into the hem of Fran’s own wedding dress, a secret little token of all the old gown has meant to her. The money from Fabian has gone to the foundation. To Fran, it seemed like the right way to restore all that had been set askew, past and present. A complete circle. For all the suffering the dress has wrought, over so many years, now it can do some good. Although, of course, Fran will never forget that its true whisper belongs to her and Rafael, a lesson of faith for two damaged hearts, that there can be, if you’re open to it, love after heartbreak.
reading group guide
1. The Colt family has a toxic, hidden history that Rafael tries to outrun. How would you feel if you learned that your family had a dark past? Would you react similarly to Raf? Would you react differently?
2. How would you characterize Janey’s personality? Despite her mistakes, do you like her?
3. Flapper costumes, French couture gowns, kaftans, and princess dresses—the Whispering Dress boutique has them all. What kind of dress do you think Fran would recommend for you? Why?
4. Before meeting and falling in love, both Rafael and Fran drown themselves in their work to forget their loneliness. Have you ever worked especially hard to avoid dealing with your feelings? Did it help?
5. Discuss the friendship between Mick and Fran. Would you want to be friends with them?
6. Rafael gets angry with Fran when she embarrasses him at the gala. Do you think his anger is entirely justified? Discuss the importance of maintaining an image in the public eye. Does it matter to you?
7. Fran has the uncanny ability to see into the past of vintage dresses. Do you think this is magic or imagination?
8. Rafael criticizes Fran for her romanticism, claiming she can’t hide in the idealized past. To what extent do you think her imaginative nature is good for her? In what ways is it detrimental?
9. From the very beginning, we know that Rafael can be short-tempered and rude. Do you think this behavior is reasonable? Discuss why he acts this way. What factors influence his behavior?
10. Mimi’s views on marriage are pragmatic—her marriage won’t be a passionate one, but it will allow her to get a visa and have a child. Do you think she’ll be happy with this arrangement? Do you think that Fran’s influences have changed her?
11. When she goes to check up on her past clients, Fran learns that Rachel is still happily married and that Melissa is divorced but content. Discuss these two kinds of happiness. What kind of joy can be found in a healthy marriage? What kind of joy can be found outside of marriage? In what ways are each important?
12. In the end, Fran chooses not to get married in the Alessandra Colt dress and sews her own gown. Did this choice surprise you? Why? Put yourself in Fran’s shoes. Would you have made the same decision?
a conversation with the author
This book delves into the fashion world. Can you talk a little bit about your research for the story?
I write content for the Victoria and Albert Museum, the world’s leading museum of art and design. The first subject assigned to me was their collection of bridal wear. It was a pinch-me-now moment, being paid to contemplate exquisite, historic wedding dresses. As I got deeper into my research, I realized it wasn’t just the dresses that fascinated me, but the personal stories behind them. From demure to ultimate glamour, from the courtesan’s sack-back gown to the ever-changing Victorian silhouette, from the thirties to the sixties to the nineties, these dresses were as varied in character as the women who wore them—and it struck me that the spirit of these women seemed very much present, embodied in the fabric and stitches. All my life I’ve loved clothes but have little experience of making or repairing them, so while I was working on the book, I asked a talented costumer friend for tips and advice on sewing jargon. I also became slightly addicted to vintage clothing websites and blogs!
What does your creative process look like?
It always starts with thinking and daydreaming (which can take weeks, months, years even). I can sense when a “good” idea is emerging—it just keeps blooming in my mind and won’t stay quiet. Once I’ve committed to developing an idea, I scribble in notebooks and on big sheets of paper, thrashing out character, theme, and plot ideas. I then pull all of this into something more refined on my laptop (usually in the form of a plot overview) and then, as quickly as I can, I get a messy first draft down. I don’t care about finesse at this stage—I just like having words to sculpt. It’s a bit like making an oil painting: a blank canvas is daunting, so just cover the whole thing in paint and build from there. I see a lot of parallels between writing and painting. You start with something raw and loose, then layer after layer, edit after edit, the clarity emerges. I’d say my process is roughly 30 percent writing, 70 percent editing. I love to hone and sharpen and see the power of the story come through. I listen to music when I write, often the same song on repeat to set the mood. Fran and Raf have their own theme songs, and I have playlists called In the Wedding Shop, Special Dress Moment, and Encouraging Love!
In the book, Fran matches each bride with the perfect dress to teach them an important lesson about happiness. What dress would she assign you, and why?
I love the glamour and sophistication of the thirties, but I think the dress I truly identify with is the good old cotton farm-girl frock. Its down-to-earth honesty makes sense to me. Life’s drama has taught me the value of simple, everyday pleasures: a good cup of coffee, the roses in my garden, that tingly feeling when a sentence reads well. I’m happiest hanging out with my family, being creative and outdoors. To me, time matters more than stuff, and I think the Sarah-Anne Bootle dress reflects this. That said…if Fran could find me a dress that once belonged to a talented pastry chef, that would be marvelous! I love cake, but I’m a terrible baker!
The idea of a wealthy, corrupt family with a charitable foundation is an ironic one. What inspired you to write the Colt family?
I had a conversation about the nature of altruism with my sister, who is a charity fundraising director in the UK, and it got the cogs whirring. The desire to “give” isn’t as straightforward as we might assume. There are many different factors and motivations underlying it, such as having personal experience of an issue or wanting to improve public image. I felt this would make an interesting background for my male protagonist. I was intrigued by the idea of a grand family with a glowing reputation who are hiding all kinds of malfunction. The foundation is their mask, but it’s one that does a lot of good, so no one challenges it. For Raf, however, this deception of altruism is complicated. He’s had high-status responsibility foisted upon
him. He wants to do the right thing with it but is shadowed by his family demons.
Who are some of your favorite authors?
As a child, I loved the Finnish author Tove Jansson, who wrote the Moomin books—so much so that I named my daughter after her! I love reading, but I have precious little time to do it, so my policy is to take a chance on whatever comes along. This way, I get plenty of variety, from comedy romance to creepy thrillers to literary epics. I’ve always had a thing for twentieth-century writers like J. D. Salinger, Daphne du Maurier, W. Somerset Maugham, and Evelyn Waugh. That’s true escapism for me. I love reading books about periods of history that were written “at the time,” the prose oozing old-style elegance. Jane Austen’s another one.
Fran values clothes with a history. What is your stance on vintage versus modern clothing?
Vintage all the way. For day-to-day wear, I mostly buy modern, practical clothes (mum of three, lots of running around) and wear them until they fall apart, but for special occasions, I wear vintage. I love floaty, hippyish things from the seventies and regularly raid my mother’s collection of original Biba dresses. They’re so beautifully designed and cut, it’s impossible not to feel wonderful in them. I love the sense of story in vintage clothes—their possible pasts. You can’t always know them, but it’s fun to imagine. I think vintage clothing, and secondhand clothing in general, has importance for many reasons: story, quality, style, and ethics. The ethical issue is pressing. The current appetite for cheap, disposable new fashion comes at a huge cost to society and the environment.
Fran’s visions bring a touch of magical realism to this book. What made you decide to bring magic into the story?
Because I could! Or, in other words, because the world of fiction can go places that reality can’t and this excites me. This is where my imagination can do cartwheels. In its earliest incarnation, I imagined The Second Chance Boutique to be like a fashion-based Quantum Leap (an old time-travel TV show). Fran was literally going to travel in time to plunder the dresses of history and bring them into the present, but as the writing evolved, I found myself instinctively pulling back, losing the heavy sci-fi element, and finding a subtle but delectable thread of “time-sensing” within Fran’s talent. I do think old things have a certain kind of energy within them, but is this magic or sentimentality? The dreamer in me thinks it’s a bit of both.
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