Waltz in Time by Eugenia Riley

Author:Eugenia Riley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2014-01-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

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Late the following morning, Stephanie, garbed in underclothes and a heavy wrapper, was in Ebbie’s room putting the final touches on her coiffure. ‘There, you look divine. Andre will be charmed.”

Sitting in front of Stephanie, wearing a black silk dress, Ebbie peered into the dressing-table mirror, studying the curls arranged about her face, then turning to view the length of her hair, which was gathered with a turquoise ribbon at her nape.

“I’ve never worn my hair quite this way before,” she fretted.

“Well, you should,” Stephanie declared. “You have a lovely oval face, and those ringlets are the perfect highlight.” She turned to a nearby chair draped with accessories. “Now for the finishing touches.”

Stephanie arranged a turquoise shawl about Ebbie’ s shoulders and placed a strand of multicolored beads around her neck. “There, you look much more vibrant—”

“But I feel a traitor for brightening up my black—”

“Well, enjoy your black while you can,” advised Stephanie, “for I’m determined to see you shedding it.”

Ebbie chuckled. “Stephanie, you’re a martinet! And you really must go dress now. I realize Andre and I are leaving early, since he wants to take the pony out to the bluff for the children to ride, but if you don’t watch out, you’ll still be in your nightclothes when Henry calls for you.”

Stephanie nodded. “Are you excited about the outing with Andre?”

Ebbie nervously adjusted her beads. “Of course I am.”

Stephanie hesitated a moment. “Ebbie, have you thought about, well, trying to entice his interest more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, haven’t you said you hope you and Andre will eventually marry?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must get your message across to him.” Stephanie picked up a perfume bottle and dabbed Ebbie’s temples. “And here’s a start.”

Ebbie smiled.

“You could also try some feminine wiles.”

“Indeed?” Ebbie appeared shocked

“Yes. I’ll demonstrate.” Stephanie backed away and assumed a tragic pose. Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, she began playacting. “‘Oh, Andre, darling, I believe I’ve lost my handkerchief, and I do feel a monstrous sneeze coming on.’ “

Ebbie burst out laughing. “Stephanie, really!”

“Or try this.” Stephanie wavered on her feet and went bug-eyed. “‘Oh, my dear Andre, I feel faint. May I hang on to big, strong old you?”

Ebbie was doubled over with mirth. “Stephanie, you silly goose! I can’t believe you’d suggest I stoop to such tactics.”

“Why not? Men love to feel needed, to come to the aid of a damsel in distress. Haven’t such methods worked quite well for the female gender ever since the dawn of time?”

“Well, if I can’t win a beau unless I condescend to playing the simpering Southern belle, I’m just not interested,” Ebbie declared primly.

Stephanie felt troubled. “Ebbie, don’t you want to win over Andre?”

Ebbie turned away. “Certainly I do.”

But Stephanie felt far from reassured. Stepping closer and gazing into the mirror, she studied Ebbie’s image and again saw the sadness reflected in her dark eyes. Though she put on a good front, was Ebbie disheartened because she was secretly aware of the tremendous

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