Page 32 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

“Miss Haddington, you’re not ready! You’re in your robe!” she called the words out as though Lydia had greeted her in the nude.

“Why, I am. What ought I be wearing?”

“Your stays and underskirts, of course, and your hair should be done and...”

“Hair? underskirts?” Lydia blinked, confused now.

“Of course. You can hardly go to the ball in an old banyan with your hair tumbling down around you.”

Lydia shook her head. “I am not attending a ball, Mrs. Funny. Lady Charlotte has her maids with her, and His Grace would not expect his governess to attend.”

Mrs. Funny’s lips curled into a smile. “Oh, I assure you he expects you to. The last time he hosted a ball, many years ago, to be sure, his governess did attend.”

Panic rose in Lydia, and her heart pounded so hard she thought she could hear it.

“I have nothing to wear,” she cried, and Mrs. Funny winked.

“You surely do.” She stepped out and returned with a large box in hand. On the front, the simple beige box had the words “A. Saunders. Modiste” written in elaborate handwriting. A large golden bow on top gave the plain box an expensive appearance. “What is this?” she muttered and stepped closer.

“His Grace wanted to ensure you had something suitable to wear, should you not have anything already. I take it you do not.”

Lydia shook her head. She hadn’t intended to go to any balls during her employment and thus hadn’t brought anything formal. Not that she owned anything fancy enough anyhow. She wasn’t the sort of woman who was invited to balls, dinners, or the opera. And she certainly would have declined even if she had been asked.

“Mrs. Funny, I cannot go to the ball. I am a governess.”

“And so?” Mrs. Funny asked. “Any young lady would be pleased to have her employer ask her to attend a ball. You might meet a gentleman to set your cap on.”

Lydia let out a chuckle. “I should think not, Mrs. Funny, not in this crowd. I shall stick out like a sore thumb. I have no grace and no skills when it comes to dancing. I am a merchant’s daughter; my kind doesn’t belong in a ball.” She stepped back, but Mrs. Funny would not be deterred. Resolutely she closed the distance between her and Lydia, and placed a hand on the small of her back.

“His Grace wishes you to attend, so he believes you belong. And I agree. You’re a strong woman, and you carry yourself with a poise that many young ladies wished they had. I dare say you will have a magnificent time at the ball if you do not attempt to pretend to be someone you’re not.”

Lydia frowned, but before she could formulate a question, the older woman dropped her hand. “You’re lovely as you are. Take advice from an old woman who has seen a great many ladies struggle as you do. Even Her Grace was insecure at times before balls. I will tell you what I told her. Be yourself. Everyone will be charmed.”

She smiled warmly, and Lydia nodded, though the mention of the late duchess had made her stand straighter.

“She was nervous, Her Grace?”

“All the time. One would think she was the picture of self-assurance, given how her daughter turned out but no. She was quiet and reserved. Shy, even.”

Lydia pictured the woman who always smiled down from the painting that had captured her beauty for all eternity. Then, she saw her as she’d appeared in her dream, broken and small. She glanced at Mrs. Funny.

“What happened to her? I know she passed in childbirth, but Charlotte said…”

Mrs. Funny raised her hand and took a step back. “Lady Charlotte does not know the truth.”

“The truth?” Lydia pressed, but the older woman was determined to keep her counsel.

“It is not my story to tell, Miss Haddington. Now, please get dressed. Otherwise, you shall be late. Now, take a look at your gown.”

Lydia licked her lips, looked at the box again, and took a deep breath. Then, she removed the ribbon and cautiously took the lid so carefully as if the content might bite her.

“Faith!” she exclaimed and clasped her hand in front of her face. In the candlelight, the dress sparkled golden on a deep blue background. Mrs. Funny came closer and likewise gasped.

“What a unique gown!”

Lydia held her breath as she carefully lifted the gown from the box and admired it. She carried it to the light, and her eyes grew wide as the true beauty of this spectacular gown dawned on her. The dress was the color of a clear night sky with long sleeves and a golden belt underneath the chest. Matching golden bands had been sewn around the hem and sleeves, and a long train stretched behind.

However, the truly stunning feature making the gown so outstanding amidst a sea of ordinary dresses was the embroidery. Hundreds upon hundreds of stars were sewn onto the bodice and cascaded down onto the skirt as if in a rain shower. A shooting star had been created around the back where a dark blue cape added another breathtaking layer.