Lark burst into a startled laugh. "Charlie?"
"Yes, Charlie." Gemma's smile was genuinely affectionate. "When he looks at you, he gets this particularly constipated expression on his face. I could drop an anvil on his foot and he wouldn't notice it if you were in the room."
"Charlie looked at almost every pretty girl in the rookery like that," she protested. "I hardly think it...."
She couldn't say the word.
Gemma met her gaze in the mirror. "Trust me. If there is one thing I know well, it's men. He might have noticed pretty girls in the past. He might have even chased them. But he never looked at any of them the way he looks at you."
For the first time in her life, Lark had nothing to say.
Not a word.
Except.
She started shaking her head. "No."
Gemma smiled sadly and began separating sections of Lark's hair and braiding others. "You can't believe it. Is it because you grew up together? Because you spent so many years wearing breeches?" She leaned down, setting her face next to Lark's. "Trust me. You're a very beautiful young woman. Maybe it took him a while to notice, but boys can be stupid. He's a man now. When he sees you in a dress—"
"He's seen me in a dress," she blurted, her cheeks flaming. "Honoria made me wear a gown for my sixteenth birthday and helaughed."
It had taken Honoria weeks to talk her into the foolish idea, and though they’d pinned the gown, she'd been thin and distinctly lacking in certain areas.
But for the first time in her life, she'dfeltpretty.
And then Charlie ruined it.
"When he sees you tonight, he's definitely not going to be laughing." Gemma began twisting sections of her hair up and pinning them elegantly. Her voice grew thick with satisfaction as she wove a strand of pearls through the thick mass. "Oh no. He's going to choke on his tongue once I am through with you. Here. What do you think?"
An elegant stranger peered back.
That was her first impression.
The hairstyle wasn't fussy. An elegant chignon with a sweep of braids securing it, it drew attention to the fine structure of her cheekbones. Lark blinked. She'd never thought she had any of her mother's features, but she could see it now, and it made her heart ache.Mamochkahad been so elegant and beautiful. When she was a little girl, Lark would play with her mother's pearls and jewelry, and choose the set her mother would wear to the ball.
Sometimes she wondered if that was why she had such an affinity for stealing fine gemstones.
Or maybe it was her only means of taking vengeance on the type of lords who'd slaughtered her family. Revenge by proxy.
Gemma draped a diamond necklace around her throat, and it all began to feel surreal. The gown, the hair, the jewels. Lark swallowed.
"Perfect," Gemma said. "It might feel strange at first, being laced in so tightly, but just remember, shoulders back, spine straight, chin up. Walk as if you own the palace. You're my younger cousin, fresh up from the country and a little wet around the ears, which should explain any slips in manners."
"You needn't worry." Lark tilted her chin up the way Honoria had taught her. "Charlie's sisters, Honoria and Lena, have been giving me lessons for years. I've never worn anything as fine as this, but I can mimic an aristocrat if needed."
"I'm sure you enjoyed those lessons," Gemma said dryly.
"Actually, yes. It's easier to steal a lady's jewels when you're dressed like one. I've never been to an actual ball though. Mostly the opera, or a play."
Gemma threw her head back and laughed. "Charlie said I'd like you, but I thought him merely infatuated." Her laughter faded. "Stand up and let me look at you."
Lark turned, sweeping her skirts behind her.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The gown sat just off her shoulders, and covered most of her back. Though she'd never fill it out the way Gemma would, the corset pushed her breasts high enough to make it seem as though she had some.
"Oh," she said.
"Liking you makes this difficult." Gemma examined her as Lark's brows drew together.