She wished she could say the same for herself.
The trifle was chilled in its silver bowl by the time Amanda arrived with two footmen carrying boxes. The French hairdresser was waiting, and less than an hour later, Amanda's once knee-length hair reached only the middle of her back. She watched in Juliana's dressing table mirror as her golden tresses fluttered to the floor, her face white as linsey, her eyes wide and apprehensive.
Juliana scooped trifle into a cup, thinking it might distract her friend. "Eat this. It will make your cheeks rosy."
"What is it?" Emily asked, adjusting Herman on her shoulder. "May I have some?"
"It's trifle, and yes, you may."
The girl cocked her blond head. "Our cook's trifle has cake and fruit."
"This is a very old recipe."
"Our cook is probably older," Emily said, then spooned the sweet into her mouth and smiled. "It's good. Your hair looks pretty, Lady Amanda."
Amanda drew a sharp breath. "Do you truly think so, Miss Neville?"
"Absolutely," Juliana answered for the girl. "Shorter hair is the thing. I cannot imagine why you hid those gorgeous curls in that plait." Juliana had always despaired of her own stick-straight hair, but at least she knew better than to scrape it all back into a braid so tight it looked plastered to her head.
Amanda grimaced at another snip.
"Hold your head still, if you will." Madame Bellefleur clipped off a final inch. "Parfait."
"It's trifle," Emily corrected. "Not a parfait."
"In French," Juliana told her, "parfait means 'perfect.' That length will be so much lighter and easier to put up."
Madame smiled and nodded. "Now, some shorter tendrils around the face, oui?"
"Brilliant." Juliana resumed unpacking the boxes, admiring all the dresses they'd ordered. The seamstress had sent only one of the ball gowns, but promised the rest would be ready next week. "Your hair will be stunning," she assured Amanda.
Amanda responded with a rather maniacal laugh.
Juliana winced. "You must practice a new laugh. An alluring laugh, like tinkling bells."
"Like this?" Amanda attempted a girlish giggle—and even Herman recoiled.
By the time they'd perfected the new laugh, Madame Bellefleur had experimented with different hairstyles, ultimately choosing one in which Amanda's blond mane was loosely gathered, twisted up, and pinned, with the remaining curls arranged artistically on top of her head. The hairdresser left, and Juliana swept the ball gown off her bed.
Amanda looked from the lavender silk dress, to Emily and Herman, and back to Juliana. "I'd prefer not to disrobe in front of a snake," she said stiffly.
"So that's why you refused to strip to your chemise in order to be measured." Juliana saw a chance to use this as an example. "The seamstress, Mrs. Huntley, also wasn't very keen on working with Herman in attendance. People don't wish to be in the company of your snake," she pointed out to Emily.
"I don't care," Emily said.
Juliana called her maid and asked her to walk Emily and the creature home. But after Juliana and Amanda were alone, it turned out Amanda didn't want to undress in front of her, either.
"Turn around," the older girl instructed.
"It's just me."
"Turn around."
Sighing, Juliana did so, hoping this didn't mean Amanda would be unwilling to bare a little skin in front of the man she chose to compromise her.
Much rustling followed, evidence of Amanda's struggles dealing with garments that weren't meant to be donned without help. "Gracious me!" she finally exclaimed, sounding anything but gracious. "I cannot wear this."
Juliana spun around to find her friend staring down at her chest in dismay. "Of course you can. You look beautiful." She could hardly wait to see society's reaction to the new Amanda. "Turn around and let me button you up in back. Once you see the dress properly fastened, you're going to love it."
Unfortunately, turning around brought Amanda face-to-face with the looking glass. Her hands flew up to cover her cleavage. "This is entirely too low," she complained. "I'll have to wear a different gown."
"You have no other suitable gowns. Besides this, Mrs. Huntley sent only a few day dresses. The rest of your order won't be ready until next week."
Frowning, Amanda yanked up on the bodice. "I'm certain the example Mrs. Huntley showed me had a much more modest neckline."
Of course it had, else Amanda would never have approved it. But that was before Juliana gave Mrs. Huntley her instructions, which, thankfully, the seamstress had followed to the letter.
Although Juliana had always considered her friend a bit chubby, Amanda had a surprisingly lovely shape once she was rid of her baggy clothes. And Juliana intended to show that off, the better to snag a young husband. "It's not too low," she said, reaching around to tug the bodice back down.
"It is so." Amanda pulled it higher.
Watching her friend in the mirror, Juliana could only laugh. "Look at yourself!"
Amanda's neckline was indeed very near her neck—which meant the ribbon sash that was supposed to ride beneath her breasts was perched absurdly on top of them. Her mouth quirked, then spread into a reluctant smile, followed by a nervous titter.
"Tinkling bells," Juliana reminded her, and Amanda responded with her new, practiced laugh.
"Much better." Juliana reached once more to pull the bodice into place, dragging it a bit too low in the process. When an unusual fleur-de-lis shaped birthmark was revealed on Amanda's left breast, a delighted smile curved Juliana's lips. "Quite seductive," she murmured, raising a brow.
"Pardon?" Amanda looked down, then tugged the lace-trimmed bodice up to cover it. "You weren't supposed to see that."
"Whyever not? It's a delicate, pretty thing. I'm sure a man would find it enticing."
"Enticing?" Clearly scandalized, Amanda blushed. "It's private."
Tying the sash, Juliana sighed, wondering again if—in spite of her newfound beauty—Amanda might be rather too reserved to attract men. But at least the blush brought out the roses in her cheeks.
She gave her more trifle, just in case. And brushed on a little extra rouge, as Corinna had suggested. As she applied the rest of her
