CHAPTER1
Sally
“Perdition,” Sally Blackmore grumbled under her breath as she stood in front of the mirror. Bent at the waist, she stretched her right arm backward to close the clasp on her dress while holding the front up with her left. A grunt escaped her as her fingers fiddled with the knot.
“Just a little more,” she said, willing her arm to stretch. Alas -
“Faith, I’ll never get ready this way.” She breathed deeply, almost tasting the sweet cakes the cook made in the kitchen two floors below.
From the driveway, the sounds of carriage wheels grinding on the gravel and the occasional snicker from a horse drifted through the open window. Their guests were arriving for the ball her mother hosted tonight in honor of her 50th birthday.
Sally should be downstairs already, helping her mother, but instead, she was up there, trying to make the most complicated gown in all of the realm fit.
A knock sounded, and the door creaked open.
“My word, what are you still doing here?” Her younger sister Rosy entered and shook her head, strands of carefully curled brown locks dancing in her pale face.
“I can’t do the dress up,” Sally admitted, shoulders slumped forward.
“Why didn’t you get Hester to do it?” Rosy asked as she stepped behind her.
“I wanted to see what it looked like first on my own,” Sally said, miserably. “I didn’t know these straps would be such a hassle to put up. What was I thinking? Oh, I should not even wear it. It’s far too .... scandalous.”
She looked at the seafoam green creation in the mirror and sighed. Truthfully, it wasn’t too revealing at all for most people. It did feel quite scandalous on her, but perhaps that was because Sally wasn’t the sort to seek attention. Unlike Rosy, who was always at the center of everything, she was perfectly happy in her more conservative gowns and avoided the spotlight. Indeed, it was a miracle her youngest sister did not have a husband yet, as she had no shortage of admirers. Then again, Rosy was particular about the kind of man she wished to marry.
Not that Sally wasn’t. She had a dream husband in her mind. A man who was considerate, thoughtful, kind, witty - and if he were handsome, she’d not reject that either.
Alas, unlike Rosy, she didn’t easily attract gentlemen. She was too timid, too quiet. And this dress with its flowing fabric sparkled under the candlelight, with the complicated braided straps that held it up just so - this dress was for someone who enjoyed being looked at. Not for a wallflower like herself.
“What are you muttering?” Rosy asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Nothing,” Sally protested, aware she’d whispered to herself - a bad habit she’d picked up in her youth.
“No, you said ‘wallflower’. What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sally turned and tucked a strand of her chestnut-colored hair behind her ear. “A wallflower like me should not wear a dress like this.”
“Nonsense,” Rosy replied, voice vibrating with irritation. “You’re not a wallflower. You’re beautiful. Look at you. I’ve long coveted your lovely eyes and long lashes. Mine are so short you can hardly see them,” she said, blinking to emphasize her shortcomings. In truth, there was nothing wrong with Rosy’s lashes or anything else. She was a true English rose. A diamond of the first water. And herein lay the problem.
“I was not looking for Spanish coin, Rosy. I know I am by no means homely. No child of mother’s could be. But the truth is, compared to your beauty and Joanna’s witty confidence, I am merely ... average. That is why I am in my fourth season, and nobody has made an offer yet. Spinsterhood is knocking on my door with increasing volume.” Her stomach contracted as she realized this was the sad truth. At age three and twenty, she would soon be on the shelf.
“That is not true. You are not married only because you are particular about whom you wish to marry. You could have married Lord Arlet just last year.” Rosy tapped her foot on the hardwood floor.
“It would have been a pitiful match. Even worse than when Father tried to make Joanna marry Lord Worcester two years ago. Lord Arlet doesn’t even have his own teeth! Besides, the whole idea was fleeting the moment Mother suggested it at the dinner table; Father put a stop to it.”
Her mother’s suggestion of this idea told Sally how desperate her mother thought her situation was, but she kept that to herself.
“Whatever the case, I venture to say you will catch a husband tonight because you are radiant. Come, let me close this for you,” Rosy said and lopped the intricate straps together, so her dress stayed up properly. “Just be careful not to get caught on anything. Otherwise, it will be a show for the ages.” Rosy chuckled, but Sally grew a bright red, her cheeks burning at the mere thought. “The scandal sheets would love you, now that Joanna and Kenneth no longer give them ideas.”
At the mention of her sister Joanna, Sally smiled.
“I can’t wait to see her. Is she here yet?”
Rosy shook her head in reply. “She isn’t but we should go down. Guests are arriving already.” She took Sally’s gloved hand in her own and then the sisters stepped into the hall. Joyful voices mingled with the string orchestra and Sally’s heart thumped. Tonight had to be a success. She had to impress because if she did not, her chances of finding a husband would shrink even further - and her future as an old maid would be assured.
* * *
As Sally and Rosy entered the hall leading to the grand ballroom of Everbright Manor, Sally paused to take in the grandeur of the space. Living in the manor sometimes made her forget just how magnificent it was. Although it could not be denied that tonight the home shone even brighter than usual as her mother had gone to great lengths to make it spectacular indeed.
