‘But I am not disagreeable. I only said –’
‘I know, I know! Rachel, if you look like that, I vow I will box your ears!’
Léonie crossed one leg under her.
‘I think I will tell Rachel everything,’ she said.
‘My dear! Oh, as you please!’ Fanny flounced to a chair, and sat down.
‘You see,’ said Léonie gravely, ‘I have been a boy for seven years.’
‘Lawks, miss!’ breathed Rachel.
‘What is that?’ inquired Léonie, interested.
‘It is nothing!’ said Fanny sharply. ‘Go on, child.’
‘I have been a page, Rachel, but now Monseign – I mean, the Duc of Avon – wants to make me his – his ward, so I have to learn to be a girl. I do not want to, you understand, but I must. So please will you help me?’
‘Yes, miss. Of course I will!’ said Rachel, whereupon her mistress flew up out of her chair.
‘Admirable creature! Rachel, find linen! Léonie, I implore you, take off those breeches!’
‘Don’t you like them?’ inquired Léonie.
‘Like them!’ Fanny waved agitated hands. ‘They are monstrous improper! Take them off !’
‘But they are of an excellent cut, madame.’ Léonie proceeded to wriggle out of her coat.
‘You must not – you positively must not speak of such things!’ said Fanny earnestly. ‘’Tis most unseemly.’
‘But madame, one cannot help seeing them. If men did not wear them –’
‘Oh! ’ Fanny broke into scandalised laughter. ‘Not another word!’
For the next hour Léonie was bundled in and out of garments, while Fanny and Rachel twisted and turned her, laced and unlaced her, and pushed her this way and that. To all their ministrations she submitted patiently, but she displayed no interest in the proceedings.
‘Rachel, my green silk!’ commanded her ladyship, and held out a flowered petticoat to Léonie.
‘The green, my lady?’
‘The green silk that became me not, stupid girl! Quickly! ’Twill be ravishing with your red hair, my love!’ She seized a brush, and proceeded to arrange the tumbled curls. ‘How could you cut it? ’Tis impossible to dress your hair now. No matter. You shall wear a green riband threaded through, and – oh, hasten, Rachel!’
Léonie was put into the green silk. It was cut low across the chest, to her evident confusion, and spread over a great hoop below the waist.
‘Oh, said I not that ’twould be ravishing?’ cried Fanny, stepping back to look at her handiwork. ‘I cannot bear it! Thank goodness Justin is to take you into the country! You are far, far too lovely! Look in the mirror, ridiculous child!’
Léonie turned to see herself in the long glass behind her. She seemed taller, all at once, and infinitely more beautiful, with her curls clustering about her little pointed face, and her big eyes grave and awed. Her skin showed very white against the apple-green silk. She regarded herself in wonder, and between her brows was a troubled crease. Fanny saw it.
‘What! Not satisfied?’
‘It is very splendid, madame, and – and I look nice, I think, but –’ she cast a longing glance to where her discarded raiment lay. ‘I want my breeches!’
Fanny flung up her hands.
‘Another word about those breeches, and I burn them! You make me shudder, child!’
Léonie looked at her solemnly.