Victorian Tailcoat Novels & Stories

Besides, it's not like he'll be outside for long—just when he's arriving at the banquet and leaving it. I find a white scholar button up shirt with ruffles at the neck. It's a three-quarter sleeve, so there's still room for him to wear his leather gloves without the fabrics brushing up against each other. It's safe to pair this with any black pants, so I pick those at random. My eyes land on a vest with a tailcoat. There's gold and silver buttons, but the metal doesn't stand out so much. Instead it's the deep red splotches across the otherwise black fabric that catch my attention.

The corset was embellished with hand-embroidered Alencon lace of floral pattern and ivory pearls. It had an illusion neckline with a translucent beaded mesh making it even more lavish. The sleeves were long fitted with floral lace appliques and were encrusted with little diamonds. With an A-line shape, it had a large flare with a long, impressive train. It was an effort to peel my eyes off my gorgeous wedding dress but as I was equally excited to analyze, I drifted my eyes to his traditional royal ivory tailcoat attire. Handmade gold embroidered appliques were neatly sewn to the shoulders and down to the chest. With charcoal pants, it gave off some solid royal vibes.

My breath caught in my throat, a sharp, involuntary gasp that made my corset feel tighter. He was breathtaking. His obsidian tailcoat fit him like a second skin, the charcoal velvet lapels accentuating the broad sweep of his shoulders and the lean taper of his waist. The burgundy waistcoat beneath shimmered, making him look like royalty. I glanced at his trousers, perfectly tailored to his legs, and visibly gulped. Then my gaze lifted to his hair. His hair was a beautiful dark brown, swept back with a slight wave. A few rebellious locks fell forward, brushing the edge of his matte-black mask. He looked like a god from a history book, his presence overwhelming. With each step he took toward u

There's no mistake in that classic black and white dress, coupled with an apron and a frilly white cap on her head. Looking at her unusually quiet mistress, the young maid slowly approached Melissa and only when she was near the bed that she said with caution in her voice, "My Lady, the Duke is calling you down for breakfast." 'Huh? Duke? Who is that?' Melissa wondered, surprised at this turn of events. Only then did she start to notice her surroundings more clearly. The furniture in the room are of Victorian style, tacky for her taste but seemed luxurious. She looked down and realized she was wearing a white dress, which looked like a nightgown that women wore in the Victorian era, long sle

Even Victoria hid a satisfied smile. “Oh my, where did you find that gown, Alex?” Gracie asked. Everyone turned to Alex, whose cheeks were almost the same color as the gown she wore. “Oh, um, I kind of found it at the back,” Alex said. “That’s a MacKey evening gown,” Victoria said. “It’s a new designer gown. Quite tasteful. And it fits you perfectly.” “It is very nice on you,” Gracie commented. “I agree,” Kelly said. “Perfect for the wedding.”

She leaned closer to him, hand possessively brushing his arm, but his gaze stayed locked on me with a look of surprise on his face. I wasn't on Vanessa's kind of make-up that night and not even her style of dressing. For the first time in a long time. I felt like myself and it felt good. The ball was already starting and all eyes turned when Varic stepped onto the elevated dais at the far end of the ballroom. His presence and aura caused the crowd to hush. He was dressed in midnight an obsidian-hued coat embroidered with fine silver threads that traced ancient wolf sigils across his chest and down the sleeves.

I said softly, looking up at him. "Always," he said, meaning it. We walked back out into the bedroom and I found that while we'd been in the shower, something had changed. There were clothes laid out on the end of Victor's bed. Not just any clothes either. A complete outfit—clearly designer, clearly expensive, and absolutely perfect for a professional office environment. A tailored cream-colored blouse in soft silk that would be beautiful under a blazer. A pair of perfectly cut charcoal gray trousers with a slim fit. A fitted blazer in the same charcoal that matched the trousers exactly.

My dark hair had been tied back into a loose ribbon, curls gathered low and trailing down my back, soft but neat enough to be proper with a little crown on my head signifying my position. I walked down the halls to explore the mass of the building again when I met Aaron at the end of the stairs looking up at me with pity. He was clad in a deep forest green coat, fitted sharply across the shoulders, with gold buttons that caught the light each time he moved. A cream waistcoat lay beneath, patterned faintly like pressed leaves, and his cravat was tied neatly at the throat, the same shade as winter snow. His trousers were charcoal gray, tucked just right into polished boots that echoed softly o

The embroidery seemed to shimmer in the dappled sunlight, casting a subtle glow on the fabric. The coat, fitted to perfection, showcased Liam's broad shoulders and regal stature. A silver brooch, a family heirloom, adorned the lapel, securing a cloak that billowed gracefully as he moved. The cloak itself was a masterpiece, crafted from the finest materials and lined with a delicate pattern that echoed the flora of the winter garden.