He had chosen that dress.
The rest of his argument died on the spot.
Ace pressed his lips together, his confidence collapsing into a simmering frustration he could neither voice nor deny. Admitting it outright would only prove Aunt Lavinia right, but staying silent felt no better, especially with the creeping suspicion that she had been referring to him all along.
Worse still, a fleeting thought crossed his mind, sharp and unwelcome: if Ashley realized he had been the one to pick that dress, would she look down on him? Would she quietly agree with Aunt Lavinia's assessment?
The possibility alone was enough to make him swallow the rest of his protest and retreat into silence, his earlier certainty replaced by an uneasy, reluctant doubt.
"Ehem…"
Gage cleared his throat, disguising the laughter he had to force down. It was hard not to suspect that Aunt Lavinia's remark had been aimed, very precisely, at Ace. Still, he had no intention of saying it out loud.
