Page 46 of Daisy and the Duke
“You look beautiful,” Daisy told her when she was done helping her dress.
“I suppose,” Bella replied, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. She did not appear delighted, but then, she so rarely displayed strong emotion. “I do hope he’ll like it,” she added in a soft tone, more to herself than Daisy.
Then Daisy hurried to her stepmother’s chambers, to see if the baroness needed anything else. But when she arrived there, the lady looked perfect. In her way, Lady Rutherford was just as resplendent in her costume. She was dressed as a peacock, complete with long, showy feathers in her mask and headdress. The aubergine and teal-colored outfit flattered her complexion and she seemed extremely pleased with the result. “The vicar is dressing up as a raven. Won’t that be fun? We’ll complement each other nicely during a dance. I don’t know what the duke will be, but I am sure Bella will look splendid beside him.”
“Bella looks splendid all on her own,” Daisy noted.
“True, true,” the baroness said, smiling at Daisy. “It should be a memorable evening. We shall bring you back a piece of cake.”
Cake?Daisy thought.Bella gets the duke and I get a dessert?But she nodded and thanked her stepmother for the thought. It was very hard to push against the politeness she’d been taught was so important. She asked, “If you are both ready, shall I tell Jacob to bring out the carriage?”
The baroness glanced at the mantel clock. “Yes, indeed. It is all well and good to arrive fashionably late to society events, but we do not want to miss a single minute tonight!”
So Daisy went downstairs and called for the carriage, and helped the baroness and Bella get in without damaging their outfits. And she watched the carriage drive off, taking them to the one place that Daisy wished she could go.
Tears threatened to fall, but Daisy fought them back. She stood in the doorway of Rutherford Grange, watching until the carriage disappeared entirely. Then she began to turn back into the house.
A new sound stopped her short.
A cart had rumbled up the road from the direction of the village and had just stopped at the gates. A man got out and pulled a large wooden box off the cart. Daisy ran to him.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said. “What is this?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know, miss. Just delivering it to the place it says. There was a mistake and the package got held up for a day. Hope nothing inside has spoiled.” He was already off down the road before she could ask more.
The large box was unmarked, aside from a stamp indicating that it originated in London. She brought it inside to the kitchens, assuming it must be some kind of household necessity she’d forgotten about. Elaine and Jacob gathered to view the opening, drawn by the unexpectedness of it. Daisy opened the inner pasteboard box to expose a layer of undyed muslin. Elaine said, “What’s underneath?”
Daisy pulled aside the dull muslin to expose a rainbow. “Oh!”
Daisy took hold of the colors and held them up. The rainbow took shape. It was a dress, far more fabulous than anything she’d seen in years.
“Where did this come from?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
The dress was a bewitching mass of silk, woven in such a way that the color was uncertain. Depending on how one looked at it, the shade ranged from a ruddy orange to a dark, dreamy violet. The colors shouldn’t have worked together, but they did. Daisy kept tilting the fabric different ways, mesmerized, trying to see how it was done.
“Miss Daisy!” Elaine said, pulling out another item. “There are wings!”
And indeed, Elaine held a set of wings, made of silk and shaped with fine wire, painted with care to resemble the pattern of an orange and gold and black butterfly.
“That’s so beautiful,” Daisy murmured, touching the wings. She also found little black dancing slippers with flowers embroidered onto them, and gloves of a silk so thin that they were nearly transparent.
“Daisy!”
She jumped. It was clear her name had been repeated several times. “Yes! What?”
“Aren’t you going to try it on?”
“This dress can’t be meant for me. There’s a mistake.”
Elaine held up a card that had been nestled in the muslin. “Miss M. Merriot. One ball gown. Charges paid.”
“Yes…itsaysthat. But I know it can’t be so.”
“Sometimes, miss, you must accept what Providence bestows. Someone wants you to attend the masquerade.” Elaine held up a mask, designed to cover the top half of the face, again patterned like a butterfly’s wings, with cunning antennae of thin wire extending above. The whole effect was like magic.
“I just wish I knew who sent it,” she said. “Who is my fairy godmother?”
In her room, she tried the dress on with Elaine’s assistance. It fit as if it had truly been made for her. The explanation of fairy magic sounded more plausible by the moment.
