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“Well, that won’t do,” Selene said from the doorway.
Clara wrinkled her nose. “I know.”
Selene sized her up. “I have a dress that will fit you with a little alteration. Nothing we can’t handle.”
“Oh, I couldn’t…”
“Clara.”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to wear one of these perfectly unobjectionable ball gowns to a Devil’s Night?”
Clara sighed again. “No.”
“Good. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint. Come with me.”
Clara did not know what she had expected from the bedchamber of a renowned courtesan. Cosmetics, gowns, silk chemises, and naughty sketches everywhere? Decanters of wine and brandy? But it was like any other room, with flower wallpaper and a chair with an embroidered cushion. A tea tray. Books by Plato and Aristotle.
Selene pulled a stunning gown from the armoire, red with a mesh overdress shining with brighter beads the color of rubies. The small sleeves dripped more beads. “It will be a little long on you,” she warned.
“I do not have the bosom for that,” Clara said regretfully. She’d never wanted to wear a dress more.
“We can adjust your stays for that, push them up until you rival even me.” Selene glanced at her own spectacular cleavage, just in her chemise and dressing gown. “Well, maybe not me,” she amended with a grin.
It seemed ridiculous to realize that Clara had never worn red, even as a child. Her mother would not have allowed it, and as she grew older, neither would Miss Vinegar.
“That plan of yours?” Selene pointed out. “You want them to underestimate you and overlook you. They won’t do that if you wear one of your regular dresses ironically. Not tonight.”
“I am tired of wearing white,” Clara admitted. “Especially as I know it is unflattering.”
“Who told you that?”
“My looking glass.”
“You only needed a brighter shade and some color around your face, through your hair. But not tonight.”
“Not tonight,” she agreed.
Tonight she would wear red.
The dress made her feel different and yet herself. Her cheeks glowed; her lips were ripe with a hint of rouge. Selene would brook no protest.
She smiled smugly at her in the mirror. “I told you so.”
“I… Thank you, Selene.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Clara’s smile died. “Be careful tonight.”
“You too, Clara.”
*
Devil’s Night lived up to its name and reputation.
The enormous entrance hall was emptied of furniture and replaced with gaming tables and a huge, gilded cage where a woman dressed in feathers sat on a swing and blew kisses to the guests below. There was significantly more woman than feathers.
