Page List


Font:  

The Countess purses her lips, clearly unimpressed, though it's unclear whether it's with Philip being so stern with her, or because she feels like I have influenced him into making this stand against her.

Gently, I reach out and place a hand on Philip's arm. "I can go to the dressmaker," I say. "I've never used the one that the Countess recommends, it may be nice to find new fabrics and cuts." And perhaps it will help his mother to come to terms with the fact I'm going to be in their lives for a long while yet.

Indecision wars over Philip's face, as if he wants to tell me that there's no need to go through with that. But I disagree. I need to find common ground with the Countess, and if she has some say in my dress for Lady Ferrington's next ball, then perhaps that will be the start of it.

"If you are certain," he says.

"I am. I'll just need a few moments to get ready, Lady Swancove."

The Countess nods, seeming appeased by my decision.

I just hope that this means the next time she comes across the two of us alone in a room, she leaves us be.

Fourteen

Philip

The ballroom isa blaze of white as various couples take their places for the next dance. Beneath our feet, the floor glitters blue like the surface of a lake.

"This place is beautiful," Letitia whispers from beside me.

"It is," I agree. I look at her and the beauty of the room fades away. She looks amazing all dressed in white with two feathers woven into her dark hair. I've never thought much about how it would feel to see a woman wearing my feathers, but it wasn't like this.

"What happens tonight?" she asks, looking around the room for any indication.

"I'm not certain," I admit. "I've never had an invitation to the Swan Dance before."

"Oh, because you weren't married?"

I nod. "But I believe we can either take part here in the ballroom, or we can go down to the lake and take part there."

She glances out of the window and in the direction of the water. I don't need her to say which she'd prefer.

"Come on." I take her hand in mine and lead her from the room.

She glances over her shoulder at the assembled swan shifters. "Won't people talk?"

"Everyone here is married," I remind her. "And many of them won't know who we are." Swan shifters from all echelons of life are here, including those of our station, and the working classes. With the all white dress code, it's difficult to tell someone's station without being close enough to see the quality of the fabrics they're wearing. Not that I'm good enough to be able to recognise them.

I lead Letitia down to one of the swan houses and stop outside. "Why don't you go in and shift first, and then I'll follow," I say.

She frowns, seeming genuinely confused. "This is for shifting in?"

"Do you not have swan houses at home?"

"No."

"Ah. There's one at our lake too, but it's for shifting so you can change in private. You go in, shift, and then there is a doorway out the other side onto the lake."

"What about you?"

"I'll go in after you. There's a lock on the inside so our clothes will still be there once we return."

"Couples are supposed to go in together, aren't they?" she asks tentatively.

"Yes."

"Then we should too."


Tags: Laura Greenwood Historical