Rules for a Lady by Jade Lee

Author:Jade Lee [Lee, Jade]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781468025507
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Rule #10:

A lady does not hide in closets.

"Do not be nervous, Amanda. It is just a ball, and you will go to hundreds of balls this Season."

"Yes, my lady," Gillian answered automatically, her voice wooden as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. In her hands, just out of sight beneath her dressing table, she held her thin maid's cap, twisting it around and around in her fingers while the countess continued to prattle.

"You look absolutely perfect. That green netting is just the right touch. Hawkings, twitch that curl in place!" The old crone obediently tugged at Gillian's twisting, curling coiffure.

"Yes, absolutely perfect. See? There is no reason to be nervous."

"No, my lady."

"Just remember to use your fan the way I taught you."

"Yes, my lady."

"And do not dance with anyone more than twice."

"No, my lady."

"And for heaven's sake, mind your tongue!"

Gillian tossed a weary glance at the countess's reflection in the mirror. "I will make sure to leave my intellect behind."

The countess nodded until Gillian's comment sank in. Then she gasped in outrage. "You see! That is exactly the type of insolent remark I mean. You have been allowed entirely too much head, my girl—"

"Are you sure that tiara matches your gown, Mother?" interrupted Stephen's low, smooth voice. "Perhaps you should check it one last time before we leave."

All three women spun to look at the earl as he entered her room. Indeed, thought Gillian a little enviously, how could they not? She had never seen Stephen in his finest evening wear, and he literally took her breath away. Unlike her reflection, he appeared the perfect aristocrat. His dark blue dress coat and gold-trimmed waistcoat were the perfect complement to his twinkling blue eyes. His nearly black pantaloons hugged his muscular thighs while providing a striking contrast to the snow white linen of his shirt and the dark silk of his cravat.

Next to him, Gillian felt like a drab bird, washed out in white, her only color in the wispy green netting covering the silk slip.

His mother, of course, wore an elegant pearl gown that accentuated her dainty figure and creamy complexion. Stephen's comments notwithstanding, the pearl tiara was the perfect accessory. Gillian, however, did not say that as the countess suddenly touched her hairpiece with a startled gasp.

"Do you really think so? I could not decide between..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes suddenly narrowed on her son. "Well, you might have just said you wanted to be private with her, Stephen."

Her son bowed his head slightly. "My apologies, Mother. The tiara is perfect."

"Oh, piffle," returned his mother. "Come along, Hawkings." Then, with a disdainful sniff, the countess left the room, the maid trailing silently behind her.

Stephen watched them depart, a fond smile curving his lips. "I never could outfox her. She always found me out in the end."

Gillian did not answer. Her mind was too scattered to think.

What was wrong with her? Here she was, about to embark on her first society ball, and all she could do was stare at her reflection in the mirror.

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