That seemed rather squandering, but in this instance, it was certainly true. The pearls at her neck were the perfect accessory to those interlayered about her gown, and the neat yet lax knot of them just at the base of her throat could not fail to attract attention. Her dark hair held loose ringlets prominently displayed in the front while her hind hair had been dressed low, just as she had felt. What she had not expected was the reason for it.
Several damask roses had been placed at the crown of her head near the back, she would venture a true garland of them, all told. Scattered about them were pearl hair pins to accentuate the sable darkness of her hair. The gentle rise of color there only heightened the pristine appearance of all else she wore, and the color of her cheeks, naturally rosy, now seemed ready to bloom.
Charlotte Wright could have been a diamond of the first water looking like this, and she had never been that before. She might have been wealthy, might have been lovely, might have had several willing suitors from the beginning, but she had never been the best or brightest or most beautiful in a room.
Tonight, that would change.
“Heavens,” Charlotte breathed, looking herself up and down. “I look remarkably tall.”
Grace laughed in disbelief and put her hands on Charlotte’s arms, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Is that all you have to say? Charlotte, this is a transformation!”
Charlotte nodded, fighting for the wit she usually had so at hand. It would not be prudent to show overt emotion now, particularly when she was expected to be so very charming and polite later.
“Yes, and now we shall have to carry this on for the rest of the Season at every public appearance,” she snapped, though her words lacked the snide edge she had hoped for. “I do hope you will remember that when I become habitually cantankerous with an aching head and a bruised waist.”
Grace’s eyes narrowed as Charlotte stepped away. “I think you’re hiding your true feelings, Charlotte, under a blanket of wit.”
“Hmm,” Charlotte said simply as she reached for her reticule and fan nearby, winking her thanks to Annette. “Well, you may think that all you like. Why should tonight be any different?”
A huffed exhale escaped Grace as she followed Charlotte out of the room. “Meaning?” she demanded.
Charlotte paused at the top of the stairs. “I always hide my true feelings under a blanket of wit. Surely you know that by now.” She winked and descended the stairs without any of the grace a woman in such a gown should have. She couldn’t bring herself to care, not with the picture of comportment following her.
Grace could fall down the stairs in a gliding manner and receive praise for doing so. She’d have to avoid her friend the whole evening if she truly wished to get anywhere.
“What was that I heard?” Aubrey, Lord Ingram, asked as he came to the stairs. He smiled a warm, friendly smile at Charlotte and bowed. “Stunning picture, Charlotte. Well done.”
Charlotte favored him with a curtsey, a rarity indeed for her more familiar friends. “Many thanks, my lord.” She snickered and tapped her fan into her hand. “We were talking of blankets and wit.”
Aubrey raised a brow as he moved past her to help his wife down the remaining stairs, though she did not require the assistance. “What in the world for?”
Charlotte ignored the way her heart stumbled as she witnessed the quick but fervent look between her friends, the secrets that only those who shared a heart could know.
Had Aubrey offered his hand to Grace simply to touch her? He was a gentleman to his core, but there was nothing particularly complicated requiring his specific attentiveness to his wife. Was it his way to ensure she was always safe? Did he wish for her to know instinctively that he would always be there? Did he test himself by waiting for her to take his hand, still breathlessly wondering if she would after being married to him this far?
There was a connection she could not understand or translate there, and she was instantly envious. Delighted for her friend, but envious at her own lack. Did that make her ungrateful?
“I am rather fond of both,” Charlotte told Aubrey. “Blankets and wit.”
His mouth curved in a smile. “Well, it is a rather underrated combination in the evenings, I will allow.”
Charlotte looked at Grace with some superiority, and her friend only rolled her eyes at them both.
“Are we the last ones down?” Charlotte asked Aubrey, returning her attention to him. “I am sorry you have had such a wait.”
Aubrey waved it off with a quick expression of dismissal. “Not in the least. I am married to Grace, so waiting for the appearance of resplendence is quite a normal thing for me now.”
Charlotte sputtered and turned to Grace. “Is he always like that?”
“No,” Grace said simply, smiling sweetly at her husband. “He is showing off at present.”
“To answer your question,” Aubrey went on, ignoring his wife’s commentary, “no, you are not the last ones down. Your father kept me company, but when it was clear it would be some time, he retired to his library. Your mother was down but forgot something so went back up. Your brother, I have yet to see.”
There was no surprise in anything he had said, and Charlotte could only sigh. “All that fuss and bother, and still Charles takes more time than I do to be presentable for Society. I do not understand it, nor will I. What can he possibly have to prepare?”
“You would be surprised, my dear sister.” Charles strode down the stairs, smug expression on his face, her mother on his arm. “There, we are all looking our finest. Would you send for Father?”
“No need, no need,” came the sound of their father’s voice
