She snorted. “All your dresses are blue.”
“Not true. There’s a purple one in there somewhere.”
Her laugh was like a balm to my soul. “I hope someday to be as content as you.”
I wasn’t content. I was resigned.
She kissed my cheek before dancing out of the room with her gift. Eventually, I settled on a silk gown the color of a clear sky, with capped sleeves and long white gloves to hide the dirt that refused to scrub clean from beneath my short nails.
Sylvia returned to help me into my stay, drawing the laces tight. Next came the dress. She fastened the buttons with expert fingers and added a ribbon across my waist, above the a-line skirts that shimmered like sunlight on freshly fallen snow.
I put the finishing touches on my makeup, covering my freckles and sunburn, highlighting my lips with rouge, and dusting my lashes with kohl. I didn’t look like myself but rather a grand lady whose sole purpose in life was entertaining the gentry. Fitting, considering that was what I was to become.
With my mother’s cameo choker tied around my neck, I hurried to the entrance to greet guests as they arrived. Graystones’ gentry climbed our front steps in glittering gowns and coats with tails. Men and women resplendent in finery, wearing their wealth for everyone to see. When Eithne and her husband arrived, she lifted her chin as she swept past.
I wanted to haul her back by her hair and demand she explain why she’d lied about Charlie.
Keelynn beamed as guests wished her happy birthday. I committed her laughter to memory, something to hold close when I was alone.
Had I ever experienced that level of joy?
If I had, I couldn’t remember.
Once the line of people had disappeared, my father escorted Keelynn into the ballroom. There was no sign of Rían posing as the ambassador. Had he sneaked past pretending to be another guest? Keeping close to my sister, I scanned the crowd for a pair of wicked blue eyes.
The high walls in the ballroom had been draped with pink gossamer fabric. Pink candles dripped wax onto shimmering white tablecloths. In the center of a long trestle table sat a three-tiered cake, iced in white cream and embellished with pink peonies.
My father led Keelynn straight to the dance floor, and the band in the corner struck up a lively tune. Instead of finding a partner and joining them, I went to the table overflowing with food and desserts to make sure the servants hadn’t forgotten anything.
Robert’s father stood beside the table, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the goings on with a stern expression.
“Good evening, Lord Trench.” I offered him a low curtsy.He was handsome for an older man, with a distinguished amount of gray at his temples and a monocle over his left eye.
Although he looked down his nose at me, he bowed his head slightly in greeting. “Lady Aveen. You must’ve been hard at work planning such a grand event.”
Party planning had been child’s play compared to the other hardships I currently faced. “It’s not work when it’s for someone you love.”
Speaking of my sister, where had she gone?
I spotted her taking a turn with Tomas Billington.
Thank heavens.
Lord Trench offered me the closest thing he had to a smile as I collected a plate and added a few slices of honeydew. What I really wanted were the chocolate covered strawberries, but my dress would make enjoying them impossible. “How is Lady Trench? I didn’t see her arrive with you.”
“Unwell, I’m afraid. Suffers from awful pains in her stomach.”
Speaking of pains in the stomach . . . the boning jamming into my guts would be the death of me. “Fitzwilliam’s recently received a shipment of herbs and tinctures from Vellana.” The local apothecary was one of the best-stocked shops in Graystones. The owner, Mr. Fitzwilliam, spent a fortune importing from the larger islands and the continent. I’d seen the shipment arrive earlier in the week. “If you call in and explain her symptoms, he may know of something to soothe the pain.”
“I will try that.” He sounded genuinely appreciative. “Thank you.”
I finished my melon and picked a glass of champagne from a passing tray. Before I could take a drink, the faux Vellanian Ambassador walked through the door.
Our eyes met from across the crowded ballroom. His lips curled into a smile that left my heart pummelling my rib cage. As if he could hear it, his smile grew.
I downed the champagne, abandoned the glass for a full one, and headed straight for the devil.
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.