Josette (17 page)

They were not finished there, for there were ball gowns to consider. “The
pièce de résistance
,” crowed Lady Berclair as a shop girl brought in
a snowy
muslin with gold threading that puddled to the floor in a twinkling swathe.

“Oh,” was all Josette could reply. She saw herself at once in the gauzy stuff, shimmering by candlelight.

The observant seamstress said, “Gold suits a girl with color.”

“Yes,” agreed Lady Berclair slowly. “So my nephew has said. No pearls for this Miss Price.”

So bold did Josette feel after this compliment, that she chose a bonnet with wine trimmings, and reluctantly agreed to the lower cut bodice for her evening wear without so much as a downward glance at her lack of bounty. Not that Carter would ever see her so.

After allowing Amy to share her own orders and envying the whites, pinks, blues, and primrose, Josette was satisfied they would be acceptable for making the rounds and dismissed the obligations from her sleepy mind.

Caroline declared her self put out and demanded they visit her favorite coffee house as they bustled out into the wonderful weather.

After taking refreshment that roused Josette enough to keep her from nodding off, they agreed at Lady
Berclair’s
direction, to promenade down to the end of Oxford Street exploring the shop windows before calling for the carriage.

Josette thought for a moment the sun was playing with her mind but it was indeed the Mr. Millerd from Lady
Berclair’s
concert who came striding out of a book shop and cried out in happy surprise.

His face glowed with pleasure as he bowed repeatedly to the ladies and their chaperone. “I had not heard you were in town,” cried he. “And I just saw your lively cousin two nights ago at White’s.”

“Did you?” Amy cried.

“Indeed,” Millerd told her. “Town suits you, Miss Amy Price.”

Amy smiled. “I believe it is shopping that suits me, Mr. Millerd.”

“And dinners and balls,” Josette muttered.

“You will be both inundated with admirers,” Millerd declared.

“Mr. Millerd,” asked Josette, “are you going to Grosvenor Square on Saturday?” Suddenly the thought of his familiar face cheered and lightened her duty.

“Yes, and that is why I saw your cousin. I delivered his invitation.”

“Edward has an invitation?”

“We intend to come together.”

“Lovely,” Amy cried. She took Millerd by the arm and practically shook him. “You are so
fine a
gentlemen, of course you would.”

“And you will come?” asked Millerd to Caroline.

She, who had been watching the trio’s discourse with the aloof air of her mother, had no opportunity to reply before Lady Berclair said loudly, “We were just calling for the carriage.”

“Allow me to help.”

“There’s no need for that,” Caroline answered.

Millerd's
gaze wavered between her and her mother, then he graciously bowed. “Miss Price,” he said, meaning Amy, “You will save me a dance?”

 
Amy's face lit up but then she seemed to remember that her cousin would be accompanying Millerd. “Of course,” she said in a subdued whisper.

Josette hoped he only fancied her for modest, rather than disappointed.

“And you, Miss Price, the next?”

“For pity's sake,” Lady Berclair cried out, “Miss Josette is the elder, and this is not the place to make your declarations, Mr. Millerd!”

The boy in Millerd rose up in a ruddy blush. He apologized quickly, doffed his hat, and hurried away.

Josette watched him go and gave him a small wave when he looked back.
The poor man.
What was he about?

≈
≈
≈

“It is a shame,” said Amy from her self-examination in the long looking glass, “that Mr. Millerd did not ask Miss Berclair for a dance.”

“Yes,” murmured Josette who sat at her writing desk reading a letter from Mrs. Egglestone.

Amy turned slowly and studied herself from the rear view.
“Should I have it taken up just a bit more?”
She spun slowly.

Trying to hide her exasperation, Josette studied the petticoat trim peeking out from Amy's hem and told her no.

“Do be gay, Josette. I've waited all year for this, and see, I look even better than I did last year, do I not?” She preened while Josette kept her eyes on her friend’s letter. Finally folding the paper carefully back together, she said, “You are very pretty, Amy. And see your hair is not even done up.”

This placated her enough, and she traipsed off to her room. There were only a few moments of solitude however before Caroline knocked and joined her.

“You haven't tried on your gown.”

Josette glanced toward her dressing room where the open door allowed a vision of packages scattered about. “I had every intention when I finished my missives.”

“You have next week to write your letters,” Caroline said with a toss of her hand. “Mother won't be satisfied until she dissects you in your muslin.”

Josette chuckled, for once sharing an understanding with the girl. “You will never have to fear dissection, Miss Berclair, with your beautiful hair.”

Caroline pursed her lips as if to say something contradictory about red hair but left it unspoken. Instead she replied, “Call me Caroline. And I pity you for having to compete with your younger sister. Why ever did your parents let her come out before you made a match? She will not be satisfied if she does not find a husband before
Michaelmas
.”

“She may catch one if she chooses. That is not why I came to town.”

“Yes, we know. Some of us come to town for reasons altogether different.” Lazily, Caroline leaned back in the small chair she’d taken and studied a botanical sketch above the mantle.

“Would it be improper to ask why you come?”

“Because it's the Season,” answered Caroline. “What else is there to do?”

“Entertain your mother?” Josette asked with as much innocence as she could muster.

“My mother is perfectly capable of entertaining herself, as am I,” Caroline added coyly. “I'm just one of a small faction that finds I can be entertained without being shackled to a cousin.”

“I have no intention of being shackled to a cousin,” Josette said then she quickly recalled who Caroline's cousin was. “You mean Captain Carter?” And to her unwelcome surprise rose to her feet without thinking.

“Phillip?” Again Caroline fluttered her hand. “He's nothing more than a brother to me, a bit old and droll.” She laughed. “Some people find him handsome. Do you?”

“I thought your mama was to do the dissections.”

“And so she will. I beg your pardon.” Caroline stretched and looked again to the bedchamber. “I thought we were discussing cousins. My home is not entailed, you know.”

Josette caught herself chewing on her lip. “You will marry who you choose?”

“If I bother to at all.
And it most certainly would not be Phillip.”

Caroline stared too hard at Josette after this, and Josette could not stop the heat from rising to her cheeks.
 

“How unfortunate for him and for your mother.”

“Speaking of Mama, she wants to see you in your gown so that she can determine your coiffure.”

“My hair,” stuttered Josette. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes to give herself a moment's peace.

There were no moments of peace besides fitful midnight slumbers for days preceding the first ball. Lady Berclair insisted they do more shopping and allowed a carriage ride through the park, which almost sent Amy into fits of rapture.

They paraded beneath flowering trees with their new bonnets and lightweight pelisses, and nodded on occasion (with Lady
Berclair's
permission) when gentlemen of a certain caliber made shows of admiration. On these jaunts, Josette grew warm enough to perspire through a new chemise and a late morning call left a tear in a favorite old stocking.

Saturday came at last and demanded she surrender another day. There was at least a long nap and a light meal to settle her nerves. She washed herself and changed into her under things. Silk petticoats went over a favorite frayed corset as she prayed Lady Berclair would not make her account for every layer.
A lovely
ivory muslin was more flattering than she'd imagined. An intricate design of green curls and cues trimmed the seams around the hem.

Molly managed an un-fussed style for the unruly locks that haloed her head until Josette fancied herself close to handsome, even for a girl with natural colors.

“My,” said Amy when she floated into the room. Her own white gown was almost transparent; the ribbons in her hair the color of the April sky. “Sister, you look becoming, indeed!”

“You say that with a surprise that borders on the cruel,” Josette groused. She turned and admired the back of her neck, lifted her skirts and showed the slippers.

Molly handed her the long kid gloves. “You look divine.”

Josette smiled, tried to give her sister a hug, who cried, “My gown!” and they hurried excitedly down to the drawing room where Caroline waited. After Lady Berclair made her be-feathered entrance, the footmen helped them out to the carriage and off they went to their party with Amy's mouth flapping all of the way.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Grosvenor Square townhouse was aristocratic and opulent in all of its glory. The house was bedecked in the most aromatic of flowers and bejeweled with mirrors and gleaming candlesticks.

For a moment, as Josette curtsied to her hostess, she worried she looked a bit candlestick-like, so tall and straight was she, but as her eyes fluttered around the room, the eyes of strangers interrupted her examinations and they weren't appraising her as if she were made of wax. “Welcome to the marriage mart,” she muttered, taking Amy's arm.

They were shortly pressed into dinner, which could hardly suppress their appetites to dance. When they finally escaped the slow and numerous courses, it was on to the ballroom, where the music was loud above the clatter of a hundred animated voices.

The small ballroom had a balcony running across a wall that allowed one to step out and observe the pavement below as it swept along the terrace. “A quadrille,” Amy whispered, and Josette turned to see her sister's face very white.

“Whatever is the matter?”

Before Amy could reply, a young man in an army uniform appeared before them with Lady Berclair on his arm. With eyes riveted on Amy's golden braids, he stumbled through their introductions.

Their chaperone made peculiar expressions, Josette blushed for the poor boy, and Amy merely stared.

When he finally asked for Amy’s hand for the next dance, Josette had to nudge her sister to remind her to respond. Disconcerted, the officer repeated himself and Amy nodded.

Josette gave her a small push forward until she took the officer’s hand and the pair disappeared toward the fresh set. Someone behind her laughed audibly and Josette turned to see Caroline grinning like an imp.