Ember hesitated. Bonnie didn’t know she’d been able to attend the ball after all, and Ember wasn’t certain how to react. Finally, she settled on simply turning her face away and trying to keep her tone light.
“Och, well, it was nice to have the evening off at least.”
“Oh, Ember, ye dinnae need to pretend ye arenae heartbroken. I wanted ye to attend too, ye ken. The ball was dreadfully boring and—”
“There ye are!” Vanessa flounced into the garden, her scolding tone making it sound as if Ember were at fault for not being wherever she’d looked first. “Is it no’ a glorious day?”
She spun once in a full circle, smiling up at the branches of the old oak tree, which shadowed the ancient well the inn used to rely on back when it was a manor house. Ember had to admit that this stepsister of hers did look as though she was having a glorious day; she looked well-rested, her coiffure was perfect, and there was a spring in her step.
“Have ye come to help me with the laundry then?”
Vanessa stuck her tongue out pertly, before declaring teasingly, “And ruin my fingernails? Dinnae be silly. I’m a lady.”
“So am I,” muttered Bonnie around a mouthful of clothespins.
“Aye, but I’m a lady who cares what I look like.”
Giggling, Vanessa settled against the mossy stone lip of the well. Ember was certain if she were ever to do that, she’d either come up with a big muddy spot on her arse, or she’d fall in. Vanessa, on the other hand, looked much like something out of a painting, as she traced the old stones with one slender perfectly manicured finger.
Venus Rising From the Well, perhaps. Or Venus Among the Lilies.
Actually, who was that Greek myth who stared at his reflection in the water until he wasted away, awed by his own beauty? Narcissus? Aye, that one. Narcissica and the Kitchen Garden Well.
Still staring dreamily into the well, Vanessa sighed. “Oh, Ember, the ball was glorious.”
“It was boring,” Bonnie murmured consolingly, which caused her sister to glance sharply at her.
But as if she understood Bonnie was trying to make Ember feel better, her expression sharpened. “It was no’ boring, but I saw Mother pushing ye to dance with all those men.”
“I didnae want to.”
“Ye’d likely prefer to be back at home with a book, aye?” Vanessa shook her head. “I am sorry ye werenae able to go, Ember. I am certain that tangerine gown would’ve fit ye perfectly.”
Aye, it would have, because Ember had ensured it would. But it wouldn’t have been right with her coloring, not the way the perfect white gown had been. And that one had fit like a glove as well.
She forced herself to shrug. “Bonnie was just telling me what I’d missed.”
Vanessa sighed happily again. “It was incredible. The decorations! The flowers! Oh, Ember, the flowers! Everything was perfect!”
Ember and Bonnie listened in silence, finishing hanging up the last of the laundry, as Vanessa rhapsodized first about the flowers—which she made out to be considerably more exotic than Ember remembered—then about her dancing partners.
“Oh and the gowns! Remember the gowns, Bonnie?”
Without giving her sister a chance to respond, Vanessa began to describe some of the more flamboyant costumes, although Ember noticed she left out Laird Oliphant’s chicken costume for some reason.
“Yer shoes were verra popular of course.”
Ember was in the process of dumping out the dirty laundry water when she heard her sister’s words. “Really?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “Did anyone mention them?”
“No’ to me,” Vanessa declared. “I was too busy dancing.”
“Three of my partners complimented me and asked where I’d received them.” Bonnie spoke from behind her book. “I told them all I kenned the designer, who would be happy to accept orders.”
Ember huffed as she planted the tub back into place. “Aye, but I need women to be interested in them.”
Maybe she could find some time to hide in the workshop and begin work on another shoe to replace the one she’d lost last night. Or perhaps it’d be better to start on a new pair entirely, in order to have something to show potential customers.
“I’m certain they were only asking for their wives or daughters.” Vanessa waved her hand dismissively. “And I’ll admit I did hear some whispers as I swept in. They were the perfect complement to my gown and”—she patted her hair with a smile—“beauty.”
“Thank ye, milady.” Ember managed to make her bow sarcastic enough her sister snorted.
“Oh stop it, I’m just trying to tell ye how popular they were. Of course, I’m no’ certain Mr. DeVille noticed them. He’s the man ye need to impress, aye?”
“Aye,” Ember admitted with a sigh. She hadn’t had a chance to explain the shoes to him last night during their dance. “Maybe I could try to arrange a meeting with him.”
“I dinnae think he noticed much of anything last night.” Bonnie finally lowered her book. “He was far too entranced by that lady in white.”
Ember froze. “What?” she croaked.
Vanessa waved her hand again. “If I’d had my sights set on him, I would’ve been quite put out. Once he saw her, Mr. DeVille had eyes for nae other.”
“Her?” Ember whispered hopefully.
“The lady in white,” Bonnie declared matter-of-factly. “She showed up late and danced only the one dance—with Mr. DeVille—but everyone was watching them. Her gown was so intricate, so different, and it was a perfect backdrop for her long red hair.”
Self-consciously, Ember pulled her simple braid over her shoulder, as if she could hide it from her sisters. “She sounds…lovely.”
“Mr. DeVille certainly seemed to think so.” Bonnie lifted her book once more. “She suddenly disappeared, and he went charging out the door after her. When
