The Dazzle of the Light by Georgina Clarke

Author:Georgina Clarke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oldcastle Books
Published: 2022-06-21T07:07:48+00:00

25

Friday, late morning

Harriet picks up a silk nightgown from the counter in Debenham and Freebody. The delicate fabric glides through her fingers. She touches the lace that decorates the edge of the décolletage and imagines it against her skin. Imagines Ralph’s face when he sees her wearing it. Then she remembers what happened when she wore that foolish and insubstantial dress at dinner a few weeks ago and snatches her hand away.

It will be different when they are married. She will be ready then.

‘Would you like to take a closer look, miss?’ The assistant behind the counter smiles pleasantly.

‘Thank you, yes.’ Harriet blushes and the heat rises on her neck.

The nightgown is plucked by its fine shoulder straps and laid out in full.

‘I should call it bridal,’ the girl says. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

It is lovely. Not quite white, but not dark enough to be cream, with scallops of lace.

‘Champagne, they call the colour,’ she adds, reading Harriet’s mind. ‘It will suit you, I think.’

Harriet asks the price and makes her decision. She shivers as the girl folds the gown lovingly, wraps it in tissue and fits it into a neat pink box.

*

Ruby stands next to a table of stockings, observing. It is the woman she saw – the one outside Enderby’s jewellery shop. She has a keen eye for recognising people, and it certainly appears to be the same woman. It is the outfit she remembers most, though. She watches, fascinated, as the elegant creature, wrapped in a honey-coloured coat and wearing a brown hat, runs her fingers over a very pretty nightgown. She’ll look lovely in that, too.

Ruby watches her talking to the assistant on the lingerie counter. The confident way in which she carries herself – like she knows her place, her worth in the world. Everything about her speaks of wealth and good taste. Her skin is plump and healthy, and her cheeks naturally flush pink as she blushes at something. She moves with an easy grace, tilting her head a little as she speaks.

Ruby tilts her own head, attempting to replicate the line of the woman’s swanlike neck.

Her belly is full again, but her face, she knows, is still pale and drawn. It will take more than a pot of tea and plate of bacon and eggs to put colour back into her cheeks. And she really needs a wash and a change of clothes. Everything feels grubby. She lifts a hand and examines her fingernails, grimacing at the thin crescents of dirt under each one. Even the perfume she dabbed on herself at the Guerlain counter cannot erase the grime. But at least she smells good. Mitsouko. A new perfume. It is already her favourite smell in the whole world.

The honey-coloured woman laughs softly, a clean hand against her chest, and turns to gaze across the rest of the floor. Ruby leans back, her shoulders touching one of the store’s wide, white-washed pillars, and catches a glimpse of a pearl necklace around a bare throat.

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