Corey McFadden (5 page)

“Of course they are,” Caroline snapped. “This isn’t the first time I’ve ever come for a fitting.” Obviously realizing her own mistake in calling attention to the number of Seasons she’d stood in fitting salons, she flushed a dull, furious crimson. “Here, girl, watch those pins,” she hissed, kicking out at the assistant, who couldn’t have been more than ten years old, crouching at her feet. Elspeth turned away, mouth thinning, unable to watch further. Her cousin, she had noticed over the last few days, had a nasty streak, and servants, who had no ability to fight back, were frequently her targets.

“This needs more lace at the sleeve, Mama,” Caroline declared. “I swear this dress will have the entire Assembly Room asleep and snoring within ten minutes of my entrance!”

Elspeth forced herself to stifle a laugh and wound up turning the resulting snort into a vague sort of cough. The gown already looked like a platter of iced cakes, bedecked with more lace than most ladies wore in a lifetime. Indeed, Elspeth’s dresses had little lace at all. She hadn’t noticed Caroline objecting to the lack there, nor did she. But even as Caroline spoke, one of the assistants unfurled yard after yard of expensive Belgian lace, holding it up here and there against Caroline’s dress for her approval. The lace was quite beautiful and Elspeth longed to put on her spectacles and take a closer look. But the dratted things had disappeared just yesterday and she could not for all the world recall when she had had them last. Caroline had sniffed that the loss was negligible, a good thing in fact, if, as she had so tactfully put it, Elspeth cared to make any sort of positive impression at all.

Elspeth longed to order a new pair—she was quite blind without them—but spectacles were not inexpensive and she dared not charge them to her aunt’s account, nor could she afford to pay for them herself. Anyway, surely the things would turn up on their own, although if she found that Harry had had anything to do with their mysterious disappearance, he might find himself on the receiving end of the spanking she had so often threatened to give him,

In the center of the room, the modiste and Aunt Bettina conferred in low murmurs, broken by the occasional shrill remark from Caroline, criticizing this, that or the other thing about the gowns. Elspeth stood in her quiet corner, where the little assistant had nearly finished repinning her neckline. The voices stilled and Aunt Bettina strode purposefully over to Elspeth, eyeing the work in progress carefully. The modiste hurried forward, tape measure flapping behind her. “Would Madame care for lace at the neckline here?” she asked, gesturing at Elspeth’s bosom, a distant hope in her tone.

“No. Can’t have her looking as if we’re disguising her age with schoolgirl fripperies,” Aunt Bettina replied. She missed the instantly stifled flare of incredulity in the modiste’s eyes, but Elspeth did not. There weren’t many months between her birth and Caroline’s, and the point was not lost on the modiste, who probably could tell some interesting stories, were she inclined to put an end to her business. It was more likely that Aunt Bettina’s decision lay with the price of lace rather than the age of the wearer. Elspeth had learned over the past few days that while her aunt’s public demeanor suggested that money was no object, behind the scenes she could pinch a penny till it melted into a lump of copper in her tight fist.

“This gown is quite suitable for you as it is, don’t you agree, Elspeth?” asked her aunt coolly.

“Indeed, Aunt. It is splendid. These are quite the finest gowns I’ve ever worn,” Elspeth replied truthfully and with good grace. Not that she was really being asked for her opinion. Elspeth knew well enough not to find anything to criticize. “I am extremely grateful to you, ma’am,” she went on, “for your generosity to us.” That, too, was the truth.

“Quite so, Elspeth,” replied her aunt, accepting her niece’s thanks with a condescending equanimity. “Your modesty does you credit. Of course, your dear uncle would have wished that we see to your coming out, since your poor father couldn’t provide the means.”

Elspeth turned her face toward the mirror that hung on a distant wall, so that her aunt would not see the anger in her eyes. Her father had provided his family with everything necessary to their well-being and good spirits, and had done so with love in his generous heart. Neither her father nor dear Uncle Harry would have approved of Bettina’s plan to dress Elspeth like a spinster and stand her next to her be-plumed cousin all Season, for contrast.

“I still do not see why more of my old gowns weren’t recut for Elspeth, Mama.” Caroline seemed never able to refrain from seizing the attention whenever her mother was engaged with Elspeth. “The gowns were quite suitable, really.” Elspeth refrained from reminding Caroline that she, herself, had nixed most of her elegant cast-offs as “too young” for Elspeth. Or the wrong fit. Or too small. Or the wrong color. Or...there had been so many reasons her cousin had found to deny Elspeth the glory of her old yet wonderful gowns that Elspeth could not remember them all. One or two of the plainer, over-worn day dresses had been grudgingly approved, but only just.

“Well, done is done, Caroline. Elspeth must, after all...” her mother began.

“Mama! This gown won’t do at all!” screeched Caroline from the center of the room, obviously loath to give up attention to Elspeth even for a moment.

“What is it, darling?” asked her mother, moving quickly to her side, her niece forgotten for now.

“Shall we try on the blue gown now, miss?” asked the modiste’s assistant, in an almost-whisper.

“Yes, thank you,” replied Elspeth, in spite of Caroline’s haughty reminder of the day before that stooping to thank a servant was a blatant exhibition of one’s own lack of stature. In the center of the room, Caroline was finding fault after fault with what looked to Elspeth’s admittedly untrained eyes to be the most exquisite gown ever made. Made of a shimmering ice-blue satin, the slim lines of Caroline’s evening dress were picked out in tiny seed pearls, iridescent and shimmering, the fabric falling in graceful folds to the floor. Elspeth had seen the slippers that had been ordered for this gown, a perfect match of satin and seed pearl design. Indeed, Caroline had ordered a different pair of slippers for every gown, each in matching material, with higher heels for the evening. Caroline was rather petite in height and was clearly annoyed that Elspeth topped her by several inches. Elspeth’s two new pairs of slippers, one for day wear and one for evening, were low in the heels; Caroline insisted that her cousin was not used to higher heels and would likely trip and fall, embarrassing them all to death during the dancing. Elspeth rather thought the decision had more to do with evening out their height, but she held her tongue. Actually, she didn’t much fancy tottering about on stilts. It didn’t look comfortable.

The little assistant swept the midnight blue satin over Elspeth’s head. Filtered sunlight danced through the loosely basted seams and she inhaled the heady, exciting scent of new material, feeling the soft satin slip smooth and cool over her skin. Her head peeped through the top just in time to see Caroline rip the front off her own gown with a howl of fury. The modiste’s lips thinned, but smoothed in an instant to the ever-present accommodating smile.

“Now, darling, we can always make adjustments,” Aunt Bettina said, laying a restraining hand on her daughter’s fingers. “No need to spoil the fabric,” she went on, no doubt calculating the cost of the extra yardage that would now appear on her account.

“It makes me look like a pig!” Caroline spat. “A feed bag would be more attractive.” The modiste snapped her fingers—Elspeth could have sworn even the finger snapping had a sort of Gallic flavor—and a flurry of activity commenced around Caroline, assistants cringing and measuring and fiddling and murmuring soothing compliments.

“Now, miss, what do you think?” Elspeth’s own little assistant said close to her ear, this time in a true whisper. Elspeth tore her eyes from her furious cousin and glanced at her reflection in the distant mirror.

“Oooh,” she murmured softly, as her eyes drank in the sight of the exquisite blue satin catching the sunlight and reflecting it in a thousand delightful sparkles. The fit was perfect, and the long, elegantly simple lines, sublime. And if the neckline was a trifle too low, a small piece, obviously a scrap, of Belgian lace peeped fetchingly from the décolletage, hiding the swell of Elspeth’s white bosom. Never had there been such a dress.

From the center of the room, Elspeth could see Caroline eyeing her cousin jealously, no doubt making sure Elspeth’s gown did not eclipse her own. But the sun had broken through the clouds and was now in her eyes, and Elspeth must appear to her in silhouette, dark and uninspiring. No, nothing to worry about there. Elspeth could see the satisfaction register in her cousin’s eyes as, with a smug, self-involved sort of smile, she turned her attention back to her own gown, an emerald silk, now being pinned and repinned, ruched and laced by a swarm of busy, terrified seamstresses.

But in her own corner, the satin cool and soft against her skin, Elspeth’s smile was one of pure, private pleasure.

Chapter Four

“If you little brats so much as sneeze, I’ll have the skin off both of you!” Caroline hissed, sotto voce. The party of varied Quinns drew near to their first entrance of the Season at the much-famed Pump Room. Elspeth cast a glance at her brother, telling him with her reassuring smile that he needn’t really fear a skinning from his cousin. Or so she fervently hoped. Harry was holding his own so far with Roderick, but perhaps just barely. The cousin was enough older and enough larger, and certainly enough of a bully, that Harry had to exercise all his wits to stay one step ahead of disaster.

Then the perils of her little brother were forgotten. Elspeth barely suppressed a gasp as they entered through the large double doors. She was quite sure she had never been in such a large room in all of her life. And so magnificent!

“Don’t gawk so, Elspeth,” hissed Caroline. “People will think you’re a perfect fool.”

“But it is so remarkable, Caroline!” Elspeth replied, too awed and excited to register her cousin’s insult. “I’ve never seen anything so grand in my entire life!”

“No doubt. But, then you’ll never see St. James. This is paltry compared to the palace.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t think I’d ever need to see anything more wonderful than this,” Elspeth declared, determined not to let her cousin’s jabs diminish the glory of this afternoon. “I must say,” she went on, “I do not know how one would go about constructing a room with a ceiling so high. I cannot see what supports all the weight.”

“Why on earth would anyone care about how a ceiling is supported?” asked Caroline, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. “Leave that sort of speculation to the architects. That is not what we are here for.”

“What
are
we here for?” asked Harry, eying his surroundings with less wonder than his sister, but with more hope, no doubt: searching for something to eat.

“Mama, keep the brats away,” hissed Caroline, giving Roderick’s ear a twist. “You promised they would leave us alone.”

“Roderick, Harry, come here to me this instant!” ordered Aunt Bettina. Harry hurried over to her, but Roderick, who had skittered away from his sister’s sharp fingers, took his time, eying his surroundings with a slow, deliberate arrogance.

“I explained to you both quite clearly before we left home,” Aunt Bettina began in a low but determined hiss, as soon as Roderick ambled over to her. “You are to be seen and not heard, speak only when spoken to, and keep to the rear of the girls at all times. Do not put yourselves forward. You are here only to learn genteel behavior. Neither of you has a father to emulate, so you must pick up the finer points of proper deportment where you can. Now, is that clear?”

“Yes, Aunt,” Harry said, while Roderick mumbled something, looking sullen.

Elspeth felt a pang at her aunt’s words. Perhaps it had been unwise to allow Harry to learn proper deportment from his ill-behaved cousin and these precious fops who minced now about the room, preening and posturing. As if to underscore the point, two peacocks bore down on Caroline, cooing delight at seeing her again. It was all Elspeth could do not to gape in earnest at their attire. Colors like that should not be placed near one another.

“Ah, Miss Quinn, so you are here in Bath to delight our very souls! What luck for us, eh, Robert? The very toast of London, I declare!” one of the peacocks cooed as he made an exaggerated leg.

“The most beautiful demoiselle of this and every Season, Thomas,” lisped Robert, delivering Caroline’s delicate white hand to his equally delicate pink lips. Caroline gave a cool smile, but Elspeth saw Aunt Bettina’s lips thin at Robert’s remark. My, but she was touchy about Caroline’s Seasons.

“Do introduce us to the vision at your side, Caroline,” said Thomas, turning his simper in Elspeth’s direction. “I had heard you’d imported a cousin from the country, but surely there cannot be two such lovely ladies in one family? Wouldn’t be fair of nature at all, now would it, considering how short-changed some families can be in that regard.”

“Oh, that’s naughty, Thomas,” tittered Robert. “Darling,” he cooed to Caroline, “have you seen Lady Hermione’s daughter? A spotted cow, I declare. Quite terrifying to behold. I should lock her away in the country forever were I Lady Hermione.”

“Were you Lady Hermione, dear boy, she’d have much better taste in clothing.” Thomas and Robert tittered brightly at each other, while Elspeth stood, forgotten in mid-introduction. It was most unfortunate that just as the young fops belatedly turned their attention to the country cousin, Harry, dutifully standing to the rear of the cozy group, chose to express his opinion of the repartee, discreetly to be sure, miming sticking his finger down his throat and making gagging gestures with eyes crossed.

Roderick, equally unfortunately, caught the movement, and chose to make his own comment on Harry’s crass behavior. Out of the corner of her eye Elspeth saw the older boy draw back his booted foot and land a hard kick on her brother’s shin. A howl of outrage escaped the smaller boy, to be met with shocked silence from what seemed to be the entire assemblage.