in Hythe, he felt a desire to share that most
important plan with her. After seeing her today, he
knew she’d feel as he did about creating such a place.
He turned down the street for the walk home with a
spring in his step that had nothing to do with his impending interview with the general.
Cecile dressed thoughtfully, if hurriedly, in the little
chamber off the kitchen. She’d like to think she’d
dressed carefully, but she didn’t have the luxury of time
to tediously attend to every deliberate detail of her
wardrobe for the evening. It had taken longer than
she’d anticipated stowing her packages, and her brother
had been agog with interest about her afternoon spent
in the company of Captain Stanislawski. Alain. They’d
become so informal so quickly. She felt she had known
him for much longer than an afternoon and that short
encounter on the balcony two weeks ago. Perhaps that
was why formality was drilled so sternly into young
ladies heads. Informality bred a sense of false intimacy.
She peered into the mirror over the washstand and
fiddled with her hair, wetting her fingers to twist wispy
tendrils into soft, loose curls. Her cheeks were still
pleasantly flushed from the brisk walk to the mansion.
She would do. Cecile looked down at the deep folds of the gored salmon-colored gown. A white gros-grain
ribbon banded the high waist beneath her breasts and
complimented the dainty white lace trim on her puffed
sleeves. The gown was rich but simple, the perfect
choice for a spring dinner held alfresco. The arrival of
truly warm weather at last had prompted the general to
hold this evening’s supper out of doors on his magnificent back terrace overlooking a luxurious expanse of
lawn so uncommon in the city.
For the occasion, she’d selected several pieces from
Vivaldi to commemorate the season. Tonight she would
play her violin beneath the stars, circulating amongst
the guests. She’d be busy playing, which would leave
little opportunity for the general’s friends to make
spectacle of her and little opportunity to be cornered by
Alain. Her heart gave an odd thump at the thought. It
was silly to be disappointed by the thought. She’d spent
the afternoon with him, and he was coming to call the
next afternoon. She’d be spending more time than she
needed with him. Secretly, she suspected it would be all
too easy to have her head turned by such a handsome
man. She could ill afford the complication of a hopeless relationship right now. She had her brother to think
of as well as looking ahead to future employment once
the general left.
Cecile grabbed up her violin and hurried to the verandah. She took a moment at the glass doors leading
outside to appreciate the beautiful spectacle that lay before her. The verandah was decorated with several
round, white cloth-covered tables instead of one long
table so no guest would have their back to the verdant
park. Candles in protective glass shields flickered against the hint of an evening breeze. Further past the
verandah’s stone balustrade, the trees shone with the
light of lanterns, inviting guests to walk the paths. The
park had been transformed into a fairy tale complete
with champagne-bearing footmen. But not for her, Cecile sternly reminded herself. She was working. Like
the livery clad footmen who circumspectly moved
among the guests anticipating their every whim, she
was part of those who labored to create the fairy tale
that lay before her. Cecile tucked the violin beneath her
chin and began to stroll among the guests playing a soft
minuet.
She caught sight of Alain standing next to the general, talking to a group of men she recognized as General Motrineau’s select coterie of friends. Alain had
risen fast indeed to be included in such a gathering. He
looked resplendent and at ease in his dress uniform, as
if he’d been born to such haughty circles. Alain looked
her way and she flushed, realizing he’d
important plan with her. After seeing her today, he
knew she’d feel as he did about creating such a place.
He turned down the street for the walk home with a
spring in his step that had nothing to do with his impending interview with the general.
Cecile dressed thoughtfully, if hurriedly, in the little
chamber off the kitchen. She’d like to think she’d
dressed carefully, but she didn’t have the luxury of time
to tediously attend to every deliberate detail of her
wardrobe for the evening. It had taken longer than
she’d anticipated stowing her packages, and her brother
had been agog with interest about her afternoon spent
in the company of Captain Stanislawski. Alain. They’d
become so informal so quickly. She felt she had known
him for much longer than an afternoon and that short
encounter on the balcony two weeks ago. Perhaps that
was why formality was drilled so sternly into young
ladies heads. Informality bred a sense of false intimacy.
She peered into the mirror over the washstand and
fiddled with her hair, wetting her fingers to twist wispy
tendrils into soft, loose curls. Her cheeks were still
pleasantly flushed from the brisk walk to the mansion.
She would do. Cecile looked down at the deep folds of the gored salmon-colored gown. A white gros-grain
ribbon banded the high waist beneath her breasts and
complimented the dainty white lace trim on her puffed
sleeves. The gown was rich but simple, the perfect
choice for a spring dinner held alfresco. The arrival of
truly warm weather at last had prompted the general to
hold this evening’s supper out of doors on his magnificent back terrace overlooking a luxurious expanse of
lawn so uncommon in the city.
For the occasion, she’d selected several pieces from
Vivaldi to commemorate the season. Tonight she would
play her violin beneath the stars, circulating amongst
the guests. She’d be busy playing, which would leave
little opportunity for the general’s friends to make
spectacle of her and little opportunity to be cornered by
Alain. Her heart gave an odd thump at the thought. It
was silly to be disappointed by the thought. She’d spent
the afternoon with him, and he was coming to call the
next afternoon. She’d be spending more time than she
needed with him. Secretly, she suspected it would be all
too easy to have her head turned by such a handsome
man. She could ill afford the complication of a hopeless relationship right now. She had her brother to think
of as well as looking ahead to future employment once
the general left.
Cecile grabbed up her violin and hurried to the verandah. She took a moment at the glass doors leading
outside to appreciate the beautiful spectacle that lay before her. The verandah was decorated with several
round, white cloth-covered tables instead of one long
table so no guest would have their back to the verdant
park. Candles in protective glass shields flickered against the hint of an evening breeze. Further past the
verandah’s stone balustrade, the trees shone with the
light of lanterns, inviting guests to walk the paths. The
park had been transformed into a fairy tale complete
with champagne-bearing footmen. But not for her, Cecile sternly reminded herself. She was working. Like
the livery clad footmen who circumspectly moved
among the guests anticipating their every whim, she
was part of those who labored to create the fairy tale
that lay before her. Cecile tucked the violin beneath her
chin and began to stroll among the guests playing a soft
minuet.
She caught sight of Alain standing next to the general, talking to a group of men she recognized as General Motrineau’s select coterie of friends. Alain had
risen fast indeed to be included in such a gathering. He
looked resplendent and at ease in his dress uniform, as
if he’d been born to such haughty circles. Alain looked
her way and she flushed, realizing he’d
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