Callie murmured apologies from behind the curtain. Eliza, standing on a pedestal and holding up her arms as a seamstress stitched up the last of her heavy velvet midnight-blue dress, rolled her eyes in Genevieve’s direction. Genevieve, who had already been fitted for her costume, had changed back into her afternoon dress and was resting on a nearby pink-and-green-striped settee.
“Your costume is fabulous, Eliza. That blue matches your eyes perfectly,” Genevieve said.
Eliza’s cheeks pinkened with pleasure at the compliment. “Do you really think so? You don’t think Ophelia is too literary a costume, or too depressing? The poor woman does drown.”
Genevieve shook her head. “There have been plenty of Ophelias in past costume balls, I’m sure. I think Shakespearean outfits are quite common. It looks beautiful, Eliza; really it does.” And it did.
“Well, it certainly can’t surpass your costume, Genevieve. You might wind up being the belle of the ball.”
“Mine?” Genevieve looked in surprise at the large box that lay next to her on the settee, containing her gown for the ball. “But it’s so simple! Beautiful, of course,” she hastened to add, hearing Mrs. Brown’s muffled snort from behind the curtain. “And I am deeply appreciative of everyone’s efforts to create such a gorgeous costume on very short notice,” she called loudly.
She was grateful, very. After she and Daniel decided to pretend to be courting, Genevieve had sent notes to Callie and Eliza, asking if she could accompany them to their already-scheduled fittings. Callie and Eliza had been planning to attend the ball since they received the invitation and had put in their orders with Mrs. Brown weeks ago. Mrs. Brown, bless her, had thrown up her hands in dismay when Genevieve sheepishly trailed into the shop following her friends, but had come through like the professional she was.
“We do not have enough time to create anything truly complicated for you, Miss Stewart.” The older woman had surveyed Genevieve’s tall frame, clad only in her undergarments, with the eagle eye of a perfectionist. “But I think we can whip up something suitable.” And so she had. Unearthing a bolt of bright-white silk, snapping orders at seamstresses who buzzed around her like worker bees to their queen, Mrs. Brown had draped, hung, wrapped, and pinned the silk around Genevieve’s body until she was satisfied. Adding a few stitches here and there to secure the garment, she produced a long golden cord and wound it around Genevieve’s bodice and waist. Finally, she turned Genevieve to face the full-length mirror that hung in the dressing room, Callie and Eliza hovering in various states of undress behind her, exclaiming over the rapid results.
“There,” said Mrs. Brown in a satisfied voice. “Aphrodite. Make sure your maid dresses your hair high.”
She had just as quickly unwrapped Genevieve from the white silk and handed it to one of her apprentices, who scurried away to sew the gown up properly. Now her costume lay neatly folded and ready in a box next to her.
Eliza rolled her eyes again, this time at Genevieve. “We shall see,” she replied.
“Indeed we shall,” added Callie, stepping out from behind the curtain with a tired-looking Mrs. Brown following. “Though I tend to agree with Eliza, Genevieve. I think your costume will create a sensation. Oh, Eliza! How lovely you look!”
Genevieve and Eliza gaped at their friend. “Oh no,” murmured Genevieve in complete approval. “You will create the sensation.”
“Isn’t it just gorgeous? Mrs. Brown is a genius.” Callie beamed at the seamstress, who grudgingly nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment.
“I enjoy a challenge,” Mrs. Brown allowed, kneeling down to remove a trailing piece of thread from the gown’s hem before gathering her seamstresses and shooing them into the next room.
Callie was dressed as the Little Mermaid from the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale. Her gown, a deep emerald green that matched her eyes, was covered in a multitude of large, flat beads meant to resemble scales, which shimmered and flashed as she moved. There were no straps or sleeves on the dress, which hugged Callie’s curvy frame. A deep V plunged between her breasts, forming a heart-shaped bodice that descended into a shockingly snug gown, revealing the swell of Callie’s hips and derriere. Even more shocking, a slit was cut into the skirt that started just above her knees, widening in the front and eventually becoming two short, pointed trains of fabric that trailed behind her.
“See how clever? It’s supposed to represent the moment the little mermaid’s fish tail transforms into human legs. And I can secure the tail after the procession, fastening it to the back of the skirt so it’s not in my way when I dance.” Callie did a slow twirl so they could admire the costume from all angles. “Isn’t it amazing?”
It was amazing. “You will have no trouble finding a husband in that outfit. I guarantee it.”
“Callie, are you certain it’s wise to show quite so much leg?” queried Eliza, ever practical. Genevieve had secretly been wondering this as well. While slightly shorter skirts were often worn for fancy-dress balls, they typically stopped midcalf. One could see Callie’s rounded, creamy legs starting at her knees, a length unheard of for a grown woman.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, my loves,” Callie replied, gazing down at the gown. “You know my circumstances.” She looked furtively around to make sure Mrs. Brown and the other seamstresses had left the small dressing room, then whispered, “I’m not quite sure how Grandmama is going to pay for this, but she assured me she’d find a way.” Straightening back up, Callie turned a bit to the left to see the gown from a different angle, looking over her right shoulder. “I am terribly fond of this gown, though. It’s going to look smashing with the diamonds.”
“Your grandmother is really going to let you wear them?” Eliza asked.
“Oh yes. The necklace, earrings, and bracelet. The gown is really just
