Page 7 of Unmasked By a Captivating Lady
Her mother stared at him, wide eyed, putting down her tea cup quickly. The butler gave it to her, and within seconds she had opened it, reading it avidly. Ara watched her curiously. Whatever the letter contained it seemed to bear good tidings. Her mother’s face was quickly suffused with excitement, her eyes almost bulging.
Mrs. Nott put down the letter on the table. “We have been invited to a ball, in a fortnight’s time,” she cried excitedly. “And not just any ball!”
Mr. Nott gaped at her, still spooning his soft boiled egg into his mouth. “What is it, my dear?” he asked after he had finished his mouthful, carefully wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Mrs. Nott was so excited she was fidgeting in her seat. “It is the Duke of Lancaster,” she breathed, her eyes shining like two silver coins. “Lord Andrew Comerford. Not only is he a duke, but he has an impressive reputation as a gentleman. He is holding a grand ball, specifically to meet eligible young ladies!”
“He says that in the invitation?” asked Mr. Nott, looking amused. “I must say, that is being honest, at least! He is on the marriage market, by the looks of it, and does not want to waste any time in the process.”
Mrs. Nott looked overcome, fanning herself with her napkin. “To think he has done us the honour of inviting us!” Her eyes slid to Ara and Ruth. “He has heard that we have two young ladies in the house, obviously! And he must have been informed what great beauties they are!”
Ruth blushed demurely. “You are too kind, dear Aunt! I am afraid that I am no great beauty, unlike my dear cousin.” She stared at Ara. “I only wish I was a fraction as pretty as my cousin.”
“You are too modest, Ruth,” said Mrs. Nott quickly. “You are every bit as lovely as Ara, just in a different way, my dear.” Her eyes shone. “And both of you shall look even lovelier for the ball!” She turned to her husband. “My dear, this calls for new ball gowns for the girls. They must look wonderful, and they do not haveanythingthat is special enough for such an occasion…”
Mr. Nott rolled his eyes a little. “Grace, my dear, you already spent a small fortune on gowns for them before we left Dorset. Surely you must have ordered a new ball gown for each of them?”
Mrs. Nott waved her hand impatiently. “Of course I did, Moses, but they are not good enough for this occasion. It is the Duke of Lancaster, after all. There will be the cream of society at this ball. The girlsmusthave gowns made in London, from the very best dressmaker on Bond Street….”
Ara picked up her toast, chewing desultorily. Her mother sounded almost fevered. And now there would be another round of boring dress fittings. Again.
Her mother prattled on excitedly about the upcoming ball, but Ara tuned out, staring down at her plate. She didn’t want to go to this Duke’s ball, but she simply had no choice. It would be just another stiff and dull affair, like they all were, the ton circling each other like roosters in a cock fight, sizing each other up. Everyone was so boringly polite.
She sighed deeply. And she had to try to be enthusiastic about it. She had so faithfully promised her father that she would try.
She could see by Ruth’s body language that her cousinwasgenuinely excited. Ruth was leaning forward across the table, staring at her aunt as if she had just descended from Mt. Sinai with the Ten Commandments in hand. Her cousin’s complexion was still flushed, and her pale blue eyes were shining.
Ara sighed again. It was going to be madness in the Nott household in the lead up to this ball. It was going to simply be bedlam. And she must grit her teeth and endure it.
***
Her mother wasted no time. Within an hour, they were bundled in the carriage, heading towards Bond Street.
“Not just new gowns,” said Mrs. Nott, staring out the carriage window. “We must look at accessories as well. Interesting and noteworthy hair ornaments. And the jewellery must carefully match the dresses…”
“Do you have any preference for what colour the gowns should be, Aunt?” asked Ruth quickly.
Mrs. Nott took a deep breath. “You both must look like swans, gliding on a lake! Pure white, girls. It always suits both of you so well.” She frowned slightly. “However, they must be in different materials and styles. I do not want you to look identical…”
Ara tuned out again. Talk of gowns and accessories bored her to tears. A dress was just a dress, wasn’t it? They truly looked all the same to her. She simply couldn’t see the point in rhapsodising over different styles and materials, like her mother and Ruth loved to do.
I am so different, she thought glumly, for the thousandth time.Why can I not love fashion, like all other ladies seem to?
It had always been a mystery to her, why she didn’t like the things that all other ladies seemed to adore. Fashion was only one. She also hated needlepoint, and drawing, and couldn’t play an instrument to save her life. Ruth loved to embroider and was accomplished on the pianoforte.
She lived for the outdoors, and always had. When she was a little girl, she had hated rainy days when she was housebound. She had learnt to ride early and loved it passionately. If a day went by when she didn’t ride, she always felt as if something was missing. That was one of the reasons why she hated being in London so much.
Within ten minutes, the carriage was in Bond Street, pulling over in front of one of the most exclusive dressmakers in London. Ara only knew that it was exclusive because her mother had told her so. She had whispered the name of the dressmaker as if the woman was some kind of famed magician.
“Mrs. North,” she had breathed, her eyes agog. “We must go there immediately. If we are lucky, she will be able to make an appointment for fittings for us all.”
Ara stepped out of the carriage, peering down the street. It was early morning, but already it was teeming with ladies and gentlemen going about their business. She spotted tailor shops, haberdasheries, and jewellers. There were also street stalls along the dirt road, with sellers calling out their wares.
Mrs. Nott bundled them into the dressmakers quickly. The shop bell tinkled merrily as they entered.
A woman approached them, smiling neutrally. “Good morning. Do you have an appointment?”
Mrs. Nott took a deep breath. “I am afraid that we do not. We have only just arrived in London for the season, and I was hoping to secure fittings for these two young ladies and myself as soon as possible….”
