Page 36 of Rogue’s Holiday

Chapter 8

Chastity had just made her choice of the gown she would wear to her great-aunt’s reception when Rose burst into her bedchamber, an anxious expression clouding her face. “What gown are you wearing?” she asked in a tone that conveyed panic.

Chastity gestured to the gown the maid had laid across the bed. “The claret silk and my slippers to match. The color gives my pale skin and hair some life. At least I shan’t fade into the walls.”

“You silly goose! You could never fade into the walls. ’Tis only you who thinks so.”

Chastity glanced at the deep wine-colored gown she intended to wear, its silk folds shimmering in the candlelight. “I do love this color.”

“It will look glorious on you. But what am I to wear?” Rose sank onto the edge of Chastity’s bed. “I’m torn between my jonquil silk and the ivory satin with the pink petticoat I wore at the Winter Assembly.”

Chastity thought for a moment. “I recall the gowns. I think you might save your new jonquil silk for another event we are sure to attend and wear the satin tonight. Both are lovely on you. But the satin with the pale pink petticoat has a low bodice that hints of your splendid attributes. You will have all the men in a twitter. And first impressions are important.”

“Very well,” Rose sighed, “I shall wear the ivory satin.”

“You can borrow my pink silk shawl to drape over your arms, if you like.”

“Oh, thank you! The shawl will be perfect. Besides, it will give me something to do with my nervous hands.”

“Worry not. I intend to keep a sharp eye out for any gentleman who might be worthy of you. Speaking of which, did you enjoy your ride with M’sieur Donet?”

Rose smiled and looked down at her folded hands. “More than a little. He is ever so accomplished. He told me of his vineyards in France and his father’s ships. Can you imagine he will inherit a chateau? His skill with the reins soon had us racing down the road. I had to hold my bonnet on at one point or see it fly away.”

“But what about the man himself?” Chastity asked, subsiding into a chair facing her friend. Crispin took that opportunity to rub against her legs, meowing his desire to be scratched behind his ear. She was happy to oblige him.

“Oh. He is very kind and most considerate with the gallant manners of a gentleman. I enjoyed his descriptions of the vineyards and the harvest time. How I would love to see that. And his conversation was laced with French, which I found very romantic.”

“As I would expect of him.” Chastity had been hoping Rose would become attracted to the vicomte. With the summer before them perhaps, in time, love would bloom. Though Chastity would hate to see her friend leave England, if it meant Rose’s happiness, she would support her.

Rose inquired, “What of your ride with Sir John and his wife Letty?”

“I have never met a woman like her. She’s as bold as a man. I must own that quite delighted me.” Remembering some of Letty’s expressions, she added, “Her speech is a bit off-color, but that did not bother me overmuch.”

“And the ride?”

“Letty—she insisted I call her by her given name—is truly an accomplished rider. I had to work to keep up with her even given her years. Our gallop down the racetrack left me breathless. I can only imagine what she was like when she was our age.”

“Controversial if the tales be true.”

Chastity didn’t mind the thought of being the subject of controversy if it gave her an exciting life. Her mother already considered her difficult. Could “controversial” be far behind? She imagined living in her own small estate, designing ladies’ shoes. Perhaps she would become an eccentric and add outrageous hats to her appearance. Aunt Agatha, at least, would approve.

Rose left for her own room and Aunt Agatha’s maid came to help Chastity dress and style her hair, simply as she liked it.

When the maid finished, she said, “I’ll just see to Miss Crockett. Lady Sanborn will soon be asking for you.”

Chastity thanked the maid, grateful she didn’t seem to mind having two young women to attend. Left alone in her bedchamber, she took a seat at her dressing table to consider her reflection in the mirror. The young woman who stared back at her was almost ghostlike with her pale blue eyes, fair hair and skin like cold alabaster. She fretted that her eyes lacked the warmth of her sisters’ rich brown and Rose’s dark eyes.

She tweaked her cheeks to bring a blush to them, glad she had chosen the claret gown.

She glanced down at Crispin whose golden eyes stared up at her. “Crispin, I must remind myself tonight isn’t for me. It’s for Rose. I intend to devote myself to finding my shy friend a suitor worthy of her.”

Rose returned to interrupt Chastity’s conversation with her cat. She looked much like Chastity would have envisioned her sisters. Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement as she twirled around. “So, what do you think?”

“You look beautiful,” she told her friend sincerely. With her dark hair piled on the crown of her head and curls left dangling to her nape and the gown displaying her lovely attributes, she would garner the attention of many men. “But don’t waste your splendid appearance on me. Come, let us go.”

As they descended the stairs, the first guests were just arriving and paying their respects to Aunt Agatha in the entry hall.

“Good evening, Lord Alvanley,” said her aunt. “Ah, here are my summer guests now. Meet my great-niece, Miss Reynolds, and her friend, Miss Crockett.”