Isabelle Lightwood Dress Novels & Stories

By noon, Isabella Caldwell would disappear, replaced by Isabella Blackwood,wife of a man who had orchestrated her family's destruction. The irony wasn't lost on me. I turned away from the window, my gaze falling on the garment bag hanging from my closet door. Inside was the dress Maya and I had found at Bergdorf's,not white, not even ivory, but a deep midnight blue that looked almost black until the light caught it just right. Sleek, elegant, with a high neck and an open back that Maya had declared "just the right amount of defiant sensuality."

The crowd's eyes went to the light source. A beam of light fell from the ceiling and reflected above the rotating staircase. The brightest beams of light shone on Isobel and Hannah. Hannah was clad in a gorgeous dress, looking noble and elegant. And Isobel, a red velvet dress, which was inlaid with countless fine diamonds, looking bejeweled, graceful and luxurious. The dress looked like it was high-fashion and expensive. And there was another, dimmer beam of light falling behind them. It shone on the woman in a white dress.

A card carefully attached to the ribbon in Lucus’s writing. Smiling again, Isabella moves to open the box. A beautiful A-line straight short satin dress with dainty straps in the color Ivory now laid before her. The dress flaring out just past the hips but stopping just short of the knee making it more of a mid-thigh than anything. A blush trying to make its way across her face at the imagine within her mind.

"You look absolutely breathtaking, Mrs. Anderson." Another stylist nodded in agreement. "This dress was made for you." Isabelle swallowed hard and glanced down at the shimmering gown hugging her body. It was nothing short of a masterpiece. The gown was an elegant blend of champagne gold and ivory, its intricate embroidery woven with delicate crystals that caught the light with every movement. The bodice hugged her curves perfectly, and the flowing skirt trailed gracefully behind her. She looked like royalty. "You’re glowing," Mary Jane said, smiling. Isabelle forced a small smile. "I suppose that’s what nerves do to you."

Her hazel eyes gleamed happily and her pale ivory skin caught the sunlight that filtered in through the windows. Still humming to the tunes of the music, Isabella danced her way to the bathroom, had a very satisfying long and hot shower and then made her way down the halls to the dining room in her best dress. Her maid, Ann had picked out the dress; a pretty silver dress that draped against her wild curves. Its neckline was a subtle sweetheart that hinted at her full bosom. Gleaming opal beads lined her waist and hips, winking with each step she took and Isabella utterly loved it. "Do you think that he will be here for the party?”

He asked imploringly and was rewarded by Bella's devious cackles as she felt like she had won the lottery. Mikhail had made up his mind by the time Isabella waddled into their office, she was smiling from ear to ear, and lost in her own dreams, she looked so happy. Her dress hung on the back of their door, and it was exquisite. A beautiful full gown made with a light turquoise against a silver backing with a silvery lace bodice. It would make Bella look like a mermaid princess as she entered the hall, and every inch the Luna she was born to be. He couldn't wreck that for her or Shadow.

"You're here to pick me up? Anyone who didn't know better would think this was for a funeral." Zachary's expression immediately darkened. Before he could respond, a soft, tearful voice cut in. "What are you talking about? What do you mean it's a funeral procession? It's just minimalist decorations. Why would you say something like that?" Mary stepped out of the car in a red dress, teary-eyed. "Are you still upset about me wearing your wedding dress yesterday, Victoria? It's all my fault. "I thought you wouldn't mind me trying it on just for a photoshoot. I'm from a small town, and I've never done a photoshoot like that before. I don't even have a boyfriend. I just wanted a few pictures."

She saw me as she passed. She didn't stop. But her hand — hanging at her side — moved briefly outward toward me as she passed my row. Just a gesture. Just her. I held it carefully. Then the music changed again. And Isabelle came through the door. --- She was extraordinary. The dress — that dress, the one from the Madison Avenue salon, the one I had watched her step into twice — was exactly what it had always been. But on her, today, in this light, with this sky behind her and this man waiting at the end of the aisle, it was more than extraordinary.

“For what it’s worth, you don’t need an expensive dress to look like you belong. You already do.” He leaves before I can respond. I turn to find Isabelle watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Well,” she says. “That was unexpected.” “What was?” “I’ve dressed a lot of Mr. Knight’s… companions over the years. For business functions, you understand.” She pulls out a different dress. Simpler. Elegant. “Not one of them ever told him no.” She hands me a navy dress, different from the Marchesa. Still beautiful, but understated. Classic.

The princess hasn't gone hurt after her mother died, and now she's going with the new Queen? “Oh, then let's get started.“ Vicky found the perfect outfit for Isabelle to wear. Excitedly, Isabelle put it on. It was a blue blouse with a matching skirt that reached her knees. It wasn't the type of cloth that would disturb her movement and she wore a pair of boots to match. “Thank you Vicky.“ She said gratefully. “It was nothing princess, this is not the first time I'm dressing you up to go hunting is it?“