Page 16 of The Best of Friends
Chapter Seven
Daria’s parents had no opinionon the matter of her being fitted for the gown Artemis and Rose were providing her, and therefore, she would not be receiving any points for thetimeshe spent at Miss Martinette’s Dress Shop. She was pleased to be there, though, and not merely on account of the beautiful dress she was receiving, which she would be earning a point for.
She was in the back room, where the Huntresses always gathered when visiting the establishment, but this time only she and Rose were there. Daria didn’t often have time alone with the woman she’d come to think of, in many ways, as the older sister she did not have. All the Huntresses felt like sisters to her, but there was something unique in her connection with Rose, something more protective, more comforting.
The Huntresses gave her confidence and helped her feel less alone in the world. Rose made her feel safe.
“I think the purple was an excellent choice.” Rose eyed the fit of the gown, walking in a slow circle around Daria as she spoke. “It is flattering in a way that feels intentional, a selection made by one who knows what she’s about.”
Daria laughed. “Then everyone will know at a glance I had help. I can’t think of a single person who believes for a moment that I know anything at all about anything.”
“I can state with confidence that any number of people know perfectly well that you are not so featherheaded as you too often believe you are.” Rose crossed to the wall of drawers where fabric, buttons, trimmings, and such were stored.
“I suppose you’re right. The Huntresses don’t think I’m entirely mutton witted.”
“They don’t at all.” Rose pulled a drawer open.
“And my brother, at least, pretends he doesn’t, though I cannot say for certain if he does actually believe it.”
“Though I do not know Mr. Mullins well, I do not think he is a talented enough actor to have fooled all of us on that matter.”
Daria laughed a little. “I suspect he isn’t.” She looked at herself once more in the tall mirror placed in the room specifically for fittings. The purple was rather flattering. How delightful to have earned a point for obtaining a dress she liked so very much. The reminder of the game brought Toss to mind once more. “Toss has twice said that I am brilliant. And he answered all my questions about music at the concert two evenings ago. And he didn’t seem to think I was stupid for not already knowing the answers.”
“Not knowing something does not make a person unintelligent,” Rose said. “Every person who knows anything learned it at some point.”
“He said something very similar.”
“And sometimes people who know a lot of things are the most thickheaded of all.” Rose returned to where Daria stood, a folded length of soft fabric in her hands. “I think we should fashion for you a shawl of this material. It will complement this dress quite nicely but would also be a lovely addition to any number of ensembles.”
She draped a bit of it over Daria’s shoulder, eyeing the combination with what looked to be satisfaction.
The fabric itself was a light cream, soft and flowing and printed with tiny sprigs of poppies in a rainbow of colors. “I do love poppies,” she said.
“The very reason I thought of you when I saw the fabric at the drapers.” Rose nodded. “I like this as a shawl for you.”
“I do have some pin money,” Daria said. “If it is enough, I would like to have the shawl.”
But Rose waved that off. “I am notsellingit to you, Daria. I am giving it to you because I believe you ought to have it.”
“But you have already gifted me two dresses this Season.”
“And if your parents make good on their current plans, I will not have an opportunity to give you anything next Season.”
That was true. “They may leave me behind simply because they forget about me. I know the Huntresses generally think of my parents as being rather harsh toward me, but I think they are more indifferent than actively disapproving.”
“Should they forget about you,” Rose said, “what do you mean to do?”
Daria looked away from the poppy-patterned fabric and at Rose once more. “I don’t understand.”
Rose moved to stand directly beside her and took her hands in her own, a kind, sisterly gesture she didn’t often employ but which all the Huntresses cherished. “Your parents’ indifference has taught you some inaccurate lessons, Daria. It has led you to believe that you are unimportant and forgettable. After this Season, you are to be left behind to do whatever it is you choose to do. Thus, my question for you is,whatdo you mean to do?”
“I’ll be a spinster daughter living in the country.” Daria swallowed against the lump of disappointment that formed at the admission. “What can I do? What choice do I really have but to put on my caps and dawdle about the estate?”
With a squeeze of Daria’s hands, Rose said, “You always have a choice. Maybe not all the choices you would like to have, but there is always a choice of one kind or another. You either make it yourself or fate makes it for you. And she is not always kind.”
A quick knock at the door pulled Rose’s attention away. She crossed to the door, having a low conversation with the person on the other side, most likely the woman hired to run the shop.
There is always a choice of one kind or another.
