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Ariana’s head snapped around. “You know what it is,” she accused.
“As do you.”
“No. I don’t.”
A profound smile creased Theresa’s wrinkled face. “You choose not to know. But the point is a moot one. Soon the choice will no longer be yours.” Abruptly, her smile vanished. “Your blue silk day dress! I haven’t freshened it!”
“My day dress? What has that to do with my dilemma?”
Theresa shot her an exasperated look. “Well, you can hardly wear it unless it is properly pressed, can you?”
Ariana sat up, totally at sea. “I have no urgent need to wear my blue dress, Theresa.”
“Ah, but you have.” Theresa stood, glancing quickly at the imposing grandfather clock that stood in the far corner of the room. She exclaimed at the lateness of the hour, then scurried toward the door with a look of total consternation on her face, vividly reminding Ariana of Lewis Carroll’s errant white rabbit. “Fear not, my lady,” she called over her shoulder, jabbing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “I shall have it ready for you in a quarter hour. That will give us just enough time …” Her final words were lost in the hallway, cut off by the click of the door as it shut.
Ariana shook her head, sliding down to return to her reading. “And Alice thought the caterpillar was daft?” she muttered to herself.
She had just begun to enjoy the mad hatter’s tea party when Theresa exploded back in.
“Come now, my lady,” she urged, tugging Ariana to her feet.
Ariana dropped her novel to the couch. “Where?”
Theresa supported Ariana’s right side and eased her forward. “To don your gown, of course.”
“But I am already dressed, Theresa.” Ariana indicated her beige morning dress. “Why must I change clothes?”
Theresa was concentrating on leading her mistress into the hallway, then up the stairs. “Because the blue gown suits you better, of course.”
“Better for what?”
“For your eyes, my lady.” She maneuvered Ariana gently to the second-floor landing. “The pale blue of the gown makes them shine like the ocean.”
“Thank you. But I didn’t mean why the blue gown. What I meant was—”
“Here it is!” Theresa exclaimed triumphantly, running into the bedroom and waving the full, ruffled skirt in Ariana’s direction. “I’ve added a darker ribbon at each sleeve. Every shade of blue will be reflected in your glorious turquoise eyes.”
Ariana made an exasperated sound. “Theresa, I am not taking another step until you tell me why I am donning that gown.” She waited just inside the doorway.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Theresa looked surprised.
“Tell me what?”
“Really, my lady, if your head weren?
??t so steeped in fanciful books, you would have heard me.” Theresa shut the door purposefully behind Ariana.
“But you never …”
“Our guests will be here any moment.”
“Guests?” That got Ariana’s attention. Rarely did Winsham attract visitors—at least since Vanessa had died. Baxter customarily went out; gambling, Ariana suspected. Which left only herself and the servants. “What guests?”
“Now how would I know that, my lady?” Theresa was already unbuttoning Ariana’s gown, whisking it off her. “I am, after all, only a maid and hardly provided with the afternoon guest list.”
“But then, how did you know …”
“I just told you I don’t.” She smoothed Ariana’s petticoats, then slid the blue silk gown over her head. “Now hurry, or I won’t have time to arrange your hair.”
