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“I love you, Aggie,” Cecily said, pulling her sister to her to embrace her once more.
“I love you more, Cece,” she said.
Cecily saw her opportunity and giggled.
“Well, then, prove it by going to get yourself ready for your ball,” she said.
Agnes sighed, rising slowly from her seat.
“You are right, Sister,” she said. “I will help you to your chambers and then send Greta in to get you ready.”
Cecily nodded, taking her sister’s arm, and letting the younger woman guide her up the stairs and to her bedchambers. She could feel Agnes struggling still with her concern for her sister. Cecily felt terrible. She wished there was something she could do to ease her younger sister’s mind. But she knew that Agnes would never make the same peace with Cecily’s blindness that Cecily herself had.
True to her sister’s word, Greta entered her bedchambers only moments after her sister left. She took Cecily’s hand and led her over to the wardrobe. Cecily adored Greta. She was as much her friend as she was her lady’s maid, and she did as much as possible to continue to treat Cecily as though nothing was wrong with her vision.
Cecily loved her parents and her sister, but they often treated her too gently. Greta, however, would do only as much to help Cecily as she needed and then let her do the rest on her own.
“Which dress would you like, my lady?” Greta asked. “You have your deep red, light green, pale cream, soft pink, white and dark blue ones.”
Cecily closed her eyes for a moment, imagining herself in each one. Just because she could not see did not mean that she could not look her best.
“The pink one, I believe,” she said.
Greta cooed in approval.
“That one will be just beautiful,” she said.
Cecily nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself. But in the back of her mind rang her own voice, clear and unforgiving:What will it matter how beautiful I look, when everyone knows how broken I am?
She forced the self-pity out of her heart, feeling shame for letting it sneak into her mind in the first place. That night was not about her, and she needed to be as sure about trying to enjoy it for her sister’s sake as she had said she was. Agnes truly deserved the best, and Cecily was not incapable of doing her part to ensure she got it.
When she was ready, Greta guided her to the door. The mirror Cecily once used to inspect her reflection after she was dressed had been removed the year prior. It only served as another ornament to trip Cecily, and she could no longer see herself anyway.
Sometimes, especially when she was getting ready for the rare social event she attended, she wished that she could still see herself. Not out of vanity, she knew that she was pretty just as Agnes was though, she had never thought of herself as the loveliest woman in London. She simply missed seeing the flush of excitement in her own cheeks as she dressed for parties and dances.
“You look so beautiful, Lady Cecily,” Greta said. “You should be most impressed at how lovely you are.”
Cecily blushed and smiled at her maid. She knew her face must have told the woman some of what she was thinking.
“I do not doubt your flawless skills at all, Greta,” Cecily assured her. “And besides, it is Agnes who matters most tonight. Will you tell me how she looks after the ball starts?”
The maid embraced her, and Cecily could feel her sympathy. She knew it came from a place of love, but it always made her feel guilty.
“I certainly will,” she said.
***
That evening, Cecily sat alone in the far corner of her parent’s ballroom. She still remembered most of the details of the room from before she began to lose her sight, but she had no idea how it had been decorated for that evening. She kept herself entertained by imagining that it looked much as it had for her own debut ball.
There had been pink and white banners all along the walls and matching ribbons wrapped around each of the pillars. There were daisies and white roses on every table, as well as woven into wreaths that hung alternatively between the banners. The crystal dinnerware had glistened with the shine from the silver candelabras, and the gold chandelier had cast a light over the entire room like something from a storybook.
Cecily also tried to put faces to the people whose voices she could hear. She made sure to not look in their direction, so as to not end up staring awkwardly at people she could not see. To that point in the evening, she had not heard any rude remarks about her. But nor had anyone approached her to make conversation. Until that was, someone sat down beside her.
Cecily smiled, instantly recognizing Greta’s floral hair oil. She reached for her lady’s maid’s hand, which the woman clasped on her own.
“Oh, Lady Cecily,” she breathed, leaning close to her mistress. “This is such a lovely ball. Everyone seems to be having a splendid time. Especially Lady Agnes.”
Cecily grinned.
