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“Yes, it is rather,” Eleanor spoke lightly, but Marion could see that there was a little redness in her friend’s face. She had taken the words to heart, and even though she was as beautiful as the day she had met Nathan, Marion knew she was a little self-conscious about this first outing into society after her confinement. Marion racked her brain for something that might help, and then she thought of it.
“Say, didn’t you order a new gown for the ball that arrived today?” She took her friend’s hand playfully. “Let us go and try it on and dress you up a little!”
“Oh, do you really think so?” Eleanor pulled back, hesitant, looking towards her sleeping children. “Shall they really be alright?”
“They will be perfectly fine.” Marion laughed, “We shall hear them if they cry. Come along, you need some time for yourself too, Ellie.”
“Alright.” Eleanor smiled suddenly, “I should like to see it.”
The two women rushed out of the nursery and down the hall to Eleanor’s dressing room, Marion nodding to one of the maids to keep a watch over the babies. She was always thinking of them, caring for them, just as she did for Eleanor, and just as her mother had done before her. She knew no sweeter joy in this life than seeing her best friend happy and settled in life.
“Here it is.” Eleanor shook out a parcel, lifting the gown out of the light tissue paper in a fluff of peach muslin. “Shall I try it on?”
“Yes, do!” Marion grinned, quickly undoing the buttons at the back of Eleanor’s simple day dress. “I can’t wait to see it on you.”
With Marion’s help, Eleanor quickly slipped out of her day dress and Marion helped slip the perfect new gown over her forehead, smelling sweetly of lavender and paper. The peach muslin settled perfectly on her body as Marion helped her do up the buttons. The colour set off Eleanor’s pale, creamy skin and dark hair. Together, the two women looked at Eleanor’s reflection reverently. The muslin was embroidered with gold leaf patterns, and each flinging thread caught the light flatteringly. Marion smiled, pressing tenderly on her friend’s shoulders.
“There you go,” she whispered. “Lady Henrietta shall have to eat her words, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
Eleanor pulled at the ribbon around her bust critically. Her bosom was delicately shielded by wisps of muslin, as was appropriate for a married lady, but she still looked as eligible as the day she had been introduced to society on her seventeenth birthday.
“Absolutely,” Marion assured her. “Would you like to borrowMaman’spearls to wear with it?”
“Actually, I thought you might wear them.”
“Oh, I am not sure I shall attend.” Marion sighed. The idea of being the poor spinster at the grand ball, standing plainly in the corner in a governess’s dress, invisible to everyone, was more than she could bear.
“I should really like you to,” Eleanor said quietly. “You’ve done so much already for the ball. You should enjoy the fruits of it.”
Marion didn’t want to disappoint her friend, but she also hated anticipating how lonely she would feel if she didn’t go. She tried one more excuse.
“I - I don’t have the right sort of dress,” she said.
Eleanor smiled at her knowingly. “Actually…”
She nodded towards the packet that her own dress had come in and Marion reopened it again curiously. She gasped. “What’s this?”
“I had it made for you, Marion, as a thank you for everything you have done to prepare for the ball.” Eleanor smiled softly. “Will you at least try it on?”
Marion nodded dumbly. She stood in shock as Eleanor unbuttoned her plain grey dress and then slipped the new gown over her head.
It won’t look right, it will look foolish, I’m sure,Marion thought to herself.What kind of woman tries on a gown like this when—
“Look,” Eleanor said softly, turning Marion’s shoulders towards the mirror. Marion took a sharp intake of breath.
“Mon Dieu,”she whispered.
The scarlet silk gown fit her perfectly. Whereas other English girls may be washed out by such a vibrant colour, Marion knew that her French blood that gave her such lustrous black hair and olive skin was exactly suited for such a colour. She placed her hand on her stomach, turning at an angle to admire how the neckline of the dress flattered the slope of her breasts, how the scooped neckline made her collarbones alluringly prominent, and how the long sleeves made her arms seem slim and delicate.
“Do you think you shall wear it?” Eleanor asked gently.
Marion turned back, swallowing heavily and tilting her head a little higher. She didn’t look like a governess in this dress. She looked like a woman ready to dance the night away with the most handsome man in the room.
“Yes,” she said. “I think I shall.”
Chapter Three
