workload almost equaled her own. All the money Hildegard saved by using her servants hard, she spent on her own wardrobe and Millie's. Betty had her hands full caring for all the gowns and accessories those two women owned.
Izzy looked down at her work and sighed. "Will it keep, Betty? I am almost finished here."
"Not a bit of it, miss!" Betty's smile widened. "You must come along right now."
Betty grabbed her by the hand and pulled her from the tiny room. Izzy cast a last despairing look at her paper-strewn desk and followed Betty through the kitchen. They didn't stop until they reached Hildegard's sitting room.
The room looked like an explosion in Ali Baba's cave. Everywhere Izzy looked, there were piles of silks and satins, pearls and velvet. Gowns were draped over chairs and couches, hat boxes stood stacked eye-high in the corner, and shimmering gloves in all lengths and shades lay strewn like glamorous open hands offering her the kingdom.
Amidst it all stood Hildegard, her puce gown clashing hideously with the jewel colors surrounding her. Her eyes met Izzy's and they were black with rage.
"Cousin? Are you not pleased with your gowns?" Izzy couldn't care less about Hildegard's bad mood, but the whole household would suffer if it went on for too long.
"No, I am not at all pleased with
my
gowns. My gowns have been delayed, although they were ordered months in advance. My gowns lie unfinished in Madam Fontenot's boutique, because other women, very rich women, very thoughtless women, ordered theirs last and demanded them first. These are not my gowns, Izzy Temple. These are yours!"
Izzy blinked. Of course they weren't her gowns, or anything like. Except that particular shade of blue had always caught her fancy, and she had once upon a time dreamed of elegant gloves just like those…
Julian.
Izzy lost her breath at the enormity of the gift.
Hildegard's eyes narrowed suspiciously and Izzy caught herself. She must not give away their plan. Certainly the future bride of a wealthy lord might accept such bounty.
She couldn't deny a twinge of disappointment at this realization. It was not a gift at all. She enacted a role, that was all, and the role required a certain costume. It was Julian's play. He was merely dressing her to best perform her part.
"Well, you needn't think you'll leave this carnival trash in my rooms," Hildegard spat. "Get it out of my sight, every speck of it."
Izzy nodded. She and Betty carefully gathered sumptuous armloads and carried them away.
"Isn't it somethin', miss? Did you see the green one? Like a dream it is. They all are, every one."
Even bundled in Izzy's arms and draped over her shoulders, the lush fabrics made themselves known to her skin. Stroking a cheek down one silken skirt, Izzy was reminded of her mother and the beautiful things she used to wear.
There was no space in Izzy's tiny bedchamber, so they decided to use one of the unoccupied servant's rooms nearby. After an hour of sorting and storing the lovely things, Izzy came across a note in one of the hatboxes.
"Just a few things to get you started, my dear. I hope all is to your taste. Lady Bottomly kindly offered her suggestions as to style, but you must feel free to send it all back for new if you like.
I look forward to seeing your transformation tomorrow night."
There was nothing more, just a masculine scrawl of a signature below.
Transformation. Tomorrow night. The ball.
Chapter Six
« ^ »
The next morning, Izzy woke feeling ill from the tension within her. After little sleep, she rose at an embarrassingly late hour. Unsteady from exhaustion and her growing uneasiness, she dressed in an old black frock and shambled down to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
It was surprising to spot Hildegard's husband Melvin at breakfast with the family. She saw him so rarely that she often forgot his existence for days at a time. She suspected Hildegard did, as well. His position with a member of Parliament had been purchased
Izzy looked down at her work and sighed. "Will it keep, Betty? I am almost finished here."
"Not a bit of it, miss!" Betty's smile widened. "You must come along right now."
Betty grabbed her by the hand and pulled her from the tiny room. Izzy cast a last despairing look at her paper-strewn desk and followed Betty through the kitchen. They didn't stop until they reached Hildegard's sitting room.
The room looked like an explosion in Ali Baba's cave. Everywhere Izzy looked, there were piles of silks and satins, pearls and velvet. Gowns were draped over chairs and couches, hat boxes stood stacked eye-high in the corner, and shimmering gloves in all lengths and shades lay strewn like glamorous open hands offering her the kingdom.
Amidst it all stood Hildegard, her puce gown clashing hideously with the jewel colors surrounding her. Her eyes met Izzy's and they were black with rage.
"Cousin? Are you not pleased with your gowns?" Izzy couldn't care less about Hildegard's bad mood, but the whole household would suffer if it went on for too long.
"No, I am not at all pleased with
my
gowns. My gowns have been delayed, although they were ordered months in advance. My gowns lie unfinished in Madam Fontenot's boutique, because other women, very rich women, very thoughtless women, ordered theirs last and demanded them first. These are not my gowns, Izzy Temple. These are yours!"
Izzy blinked. Of course they weren't her gowns, or anything like. Except that particular shade of blue had always caught her fancy, and she had once upon a time dreamed of elegant gloves just like those…
Julian.
Izzy lost her breath at the enormity of the gift.
Hildegard's eyes narrowed suspiciously and Izzy caught herself. She must not give away their plan. Certainly the future bride of a wealthy lord might accept such bounty.
She couldn't deny a twinge of disappointment at this realization. It was not a gift at all. She enacted a role, that was all, and the role required a certain costume. It was Julian's play. He was merely dressing her to best perform her part.
"Well, you needn't think you'll leave this carnival trash in my rooms," Hildegard spat. "Get it out of my sight, every speck of it."
Izzy nodded. She and Betty carefully gathered sumptuous armloads and carried them away.
"Isn't it somethin', miss? Did you see the green one? Like a dream it is. They all are, every one."
Even bundled in Izzy's arms and draped over her shoulders, the lush fabrics made themselves known to her skin. Stroking a cheek down one silken skirt, Izzy was reminded of her mother and the beautiful things she used to wear.
There was no space in Izzy's tiny bedchamber, so they decided to use one of the unoccupied servant's rooms nearby. After an hour of sorting and storing the lovely things, Izzy came across a note in one of the hatboxes.
"Just a few things to get you started, my dear. I hope all is to your taste. Lady Bottomly kindly offered her suggestions as to style, but you must feel free to send it all back for new if you like.
I look forward to seeing your transformation tomorrow night."
There was nothing more, just a masculine scrawl of a signature below.
Transformation. Tomorrow night. The ball.
Chapter Six
« ^ »
The next morning, Izzy woke feeling ill from the tension within her. After little sleep, she rose at an embarrassingly late hour. Unsteady from exhaustion and her growing uneasiness, she dressed in an old black frock and shambled down to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
It was surprising to spot Hildegard's husband Melvin at breakfast with the family. She saw him so rarely that she often forgot his existence for days at a time. She suspected Hildegard did, as well. His position with a member of Parliament had been purchased
Similar Books
