The maid wove pearls through Lily’s hair and curled the soft waves with a hot iron, creating a cascade of curls that just brushed the back of her neck.
“You’ve done a lovely job,” Lily said to the maid.
“I’m glad you’re pleased, milady. Do you have need of anything else?”
“No, not at the present. Thank you.”
She dabbed clove oil on her wrists, behind each ear, and in her cleavage. She put on her white elbow length gloves, sighed, and took them off again. “I’m going to use just a bit of rouge.”
“Lily, you never paint your face,” Rose said.
“I’m going to tonight.”
Rose, stood, nearly knocking over the maid just finishing her hair. “Your skin is beautiful, like a moonstone cabochon, and your cheeks have the natural flush of a sweet raspberry mousse. Please don’t spoil it.”
“Oh, never mind. I won’t do it.” She carefully put her gloves back on.
“Thank God,” Rose said under her breath.
“I heard that,” Lily snapped. “Are you ready? We need to go.”
“Yes, yes. I can’t believe how much better I’m feeling.”
“Amazing stuff, isn’t it? Putney would be a rich man if he bottled it.”
On the arms of their brother—who had scrutinized Lily’s gown but said nothing—Lily and Rose were among the last to enter the magnificent ballroom. They found Sophie and Alexandra and sat down.
“My, Lily, you look radiant,” Alexandra said. “Only you could pull off a gown li
ke that.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lily said. “You could do it in a heartbeat. Tell me, are you feeling quite well?”
“Yes, thanks to that concoction the maid brought us. What was it exactly? Goat’s blood? Eye of newt?” Alexandra giggled.
“Could be. I don’t actually know. His Grace’s valet mixed it up. It’s miraculous.”
“I’ll say,” Sophie chimed in. “I wasn’t sure I could make it to the ball, but I didn’t want to miss the announcement of your betrothal.”
“I’m so glad you’re both here.” Lily looked upstairs to the balcony. “Dear Lord,” she said, her breath catching in her throat.
Daniel entered, descending the grand staircase. He was dressed formally, in a dark grey velvet coat and white shirt with a black silk cravat. His hair was pulled back in a queue, disappointing Lily slightly. She did so love the sight of his thick layered hair gleaming as it touched his broad shoulders. But pulling it back gave him a noble, no, royal look, as if he were the prince himself. He wore crisp white gloves and snug black trousers tucked into shiny black leather boots.
“Is your heart going pitter-patter yet, Lily?” Alexandra giggled, staring in the same direction.
“My, he is something,” even Sophie admitted, fanning herself. “I know looks aren’t paramount, but… Goodness!”
Lily stared at Daniel, barely hearing as the duchess strode with grace to the middle of the dance floor, silencing the room, announcing the betrothal of her son, Daniel Farnsworth, the seventh Duke of Lybrook, to Lady Lily Jameson, daughter of the Earl and Countess of Ashford. The thunderous applause was muted in her ears, and she swallowed nervously as Daniel walked toward her, took her hand, and led her to the dance floor. She ogled him, his magnificence and gloriousness, as the orchestra began a waltz. Daniel took her in his arms, positioning her carefully, as her arms and legs seemed to hang limply, and started twirling her around the dance floor. She sighed audibly.
“You look stunning, Lily.” He gazed into her eyes as if he couldn’t stare at her hard enough.
She jolted back to reality. “For God’s sake, I’m not trying to look stunning, I’m trying to look like—”
“A strumpet. Yes, I know. But you failed to take a few things into account, love.”
She looked up at him, but said nothing.
“First of all, you have too much natural grace and class to ever be mistaken for a strumpet. You could have come out dressed in nothing but a feather boa, and it wouldn’t have mattered.”