And what of Mrs. Mills? Would she be disappointed that her son was involved with someone who backed out of a ball? She could almost see the knowing frown on the woman’s face, proven right about how incompatible a maid was with her son.
Indiana. Mrs. Mills. Cody. Misty felt a small wave of anxiety over how many people were expecting to see her step up to this occasion. Was this the sort of responsibility her employers felt when they attended events? Misty used to shake her head, quietly wondering why people insisted on going to events they had no love for. Attending because others expected to see you there was something that never quite made sense to her. She would certainly be slower to judge their predicament in the future.
“Misty!” Indiana peered around the door expectantly.
Misty sighed and squared her shoulders, making her way into the shop with as much dignity as she could muster. If she was serious about being Cody’s bride, she was going to have to show an entire town that she was fit to live in his world.
And that was going to have to start with a gown for the ball.
* * *
Misty tried not to tear up as she ran her finger over the delicate cream colored lace that they found in the dress shop. It had not even been unwrapped from a recent shipment, yet when Indiana charmed the woman into looking through her latest fabrics. Two other customers browsing the shop had shot them envious looks.
Indiana had decided upon a shimmering green satin, with cream lace for the hems and bodice, and small pearl beads. Misty was overcome with the idea this was to be a dress for her.
“The lace will look wonderful layered with the satin,” Indiana gushed as she held the two together to show the seamstress what they had in mind. “I wish we had more time to elaborate on it, but I think this will do wonderfully. What do you think, Misty?”
Misty managed to nod as she admired how the two pieces looked together. The emerald green peeked through the lace perfectly, showing off the delicate pattern in a way she never dared dream in a gown for herself. “I cannot thank you enough, Indiana.”
Indiana beamed. She tapped Misty affectionately on the arm. “Mr. Mills is going to faint clear away when he sees you. The green will really bring out your eyes. I have a necklace that will go with it. I shall lend it to you for the night.”
As Misty made to speak, Indiana held up her hand. “No more protests. You shall not talk me talk me into changing my mind. The fabrics here were a wonderful surprise, are they not?’ Indiana asked, changing the subject.
Misty had to laugh softly as she and Indiana turned their attention to the dress. They talked to the seamstress in great length about the style and cut. The dress would be a classic, modest cut with elegant, long sleeves. While Misty was grateful and amazed at the fact she would have her own gown, she was not ready to plunge into the latest sleek, form-fitting fashion. To her relief, Pioneer Town was a great deal more conservative in fashion had been in San Francisco.
“It is a shame the ball is such short notice. I can only imagine what we could have done had we more time.” Indiana beamed proudly at the design that Misty had finally chosen after much discussion. “Mr. Mills won’t be able to take his eyes off you. I am sure even his mother will be convinced that you are suitable for her son. Well, perhaps I have set my hopes too high. Yet I am sure she will be a little more open to the idea once she sees you.”
“I imagine she will not be especially pleased,” Misty said softly as she gazed at the design, then quickly covered her mouth when she realized she said it out loud.
“What do you mean?” Indiana asked.
Misty glanced toward the seamstress to make sure she did not overhear. She was only too aware that one of the unfortunate things about high society is how easily a loose comment can be relayed to the wrong people, often in the wrong context. Luckily, the woman was busy preparing the measurements to make a start. Indiana had offered a handsome price to have the dress done as swiftly as possible.
“Mrs. Mills does not seem especially pleased with my presence,” Misty continued in whispered tone.
Indiana nodded. “I have heard that Mrs. Mills can be difficult. She is likely wanting the best for her son. And when she sees you are the best, things will get easier.”
Misty bit her bottom lip uncertainly. It did not feel as if the rift between them would be healed by a dress and good manners. But was it too much to feel hopeful over the idea?
“Besides, she did invite you to the ball. That has to count for something, right?” Indiana asked encouragingly, though a glimmer of uncertainty seemed to shadow her optimism. “Surely she should have known you might not have time to find a dress. Then again, she knows we are friends. Maybe she just assumed you would borrow one of mine. I certainly would not have minded a few stitches to make it fit. But you deserve a dress of your own.”
Misty had to wonder if Indiana was prattling on to convince herself, rather than Misty, that the woman meant well. Even if she had managed to borrow a dress from Misty, they were far from identical in height, among other measurements. Had they been a perfect match, it still would be a stretch. It was one thing to borrow a dress for town or a small ball. But a ball gown? That was no small thing to lend to another person. She could not imagine anyone in Pioneer Town keeping more than one or two ball gowns, unless they were meaning to show off their wealth.
“I wonder what went through her head. She seemed so pleased to invite you.” Indiana touched a long, slender finger to her cheek and tapped it thoughtfully, trying to find a sensible explanation.
“Perhaps that I would not show.” Misty felt a little saddened by the idea. Mrs. Mills was clearly discontent with the fact that she was only a maid.
“Maybe she thought me ignorant enough to show in my Sunday clothes.” Misty furrowed her brow as she tried unsuccessfully to shake the thought away. It rattled and buzzed in her head like a bee caught in a jar, adamantly trying to release itself. But the thought was ridiculous. She was appalled that she would think so little of Cody’s mother. No matter how badly they got along right now, it was no excuse to assume that the lady would think so poorly of her.
“You’d know better than that,” Indiana said dismissively, though there was a hollow ring to the words. Neither of them wanted to believe it of the woman. “What woman wouldn’t know that Sunday clothes don’t fit in a ballroom?”
“A scullery maid, perhaps.” Misty gazed thoughtfully at the picture. “You were raised as a young lady of quality, so you know this. And as a lady’s maid, I had to know such a thing. Yet I am sure others might make the mistake. In a normal event, it would make sense to simply wear the best one has, especially if one does not have the means to attain the proper dress.”
“You would be made the joke of the town,” Indiana gasped as she gazed at the dress fabric. “Surely she would not be so cruel.”
“Surely you are right. I am likely just making something out of nothing at all,” Misty said, but the words caught in her throat. She remembered Mrs. Mills as she smiled and invited her to the ball. How different was her manner from the scowl she had worn when Misty was introduced!
Indiana did not look reassured, either. As they tried to steer the conversation back to the dress and its design, Misty was burdened with thoughts that she could not quite bring herself to voice at length, especially not on a mere assumption.
One thing was for certain. Misty was disturbed by the feeling that Mrs. Mills had a motive of her own for inviting her to the ball.
Chapter 10
Misty regarded the house with an anxious knot of foreboding lodged in the pit of her stomach. The home itself looked welcoming. It was easily the grandest of the homes she had seen in Pioneer Town thus far, with beautiful, white Grecian pillars standing sentinel along the spacious porch. It was freshly painted, without a blemish or a wayward shingle. A neat path that led all the way to the bottom step. From what she could see in the fading light, there was not a weed to be seen.
The perfection of the house reflecte
d the strict standards of its mistress. Misty could not help but feel a little intimidated as she checked her gown for wrinkles and non-existent loose threads. Mrs. Mills had made her disapproval of her plain enough. The house only seemed to affirm the former maid’s worries of an uphill battle. Cody’s mother would not accept her anytime soon.
“It’s a shame that Mr. Mills was unable to escort you to the ball,” Indiana said with a small measure of disappointment.
“He was needed urgently at his ranch,” Misty replied as she slowly tore her eyes away from the house. It was for the better that she had the distraction. The building seemed to seem more stern and imposing the longer she gazed at it. If she thought too hard upon it, she would lose her nerve and retreat after all.
“I know, but it is a shame he could not get away soon enough. The evening is so lovely, I think you two would have enjoyed the drive together.”
“I apologize.” Misty gave her friend and her husband an apologetic look. “I’m sure you both would have enjoyed a private moment yourselves.”
“Not at all!” Indiana waved off Misty’s concern with a gloved hand. “We all likely would have made the trip together. Won’t that be exciting once things are settled and official.”
“Though I imagine it would have been these two that would have wanted a private moment of their own had the opportunity presented itself,” Morgan pointed out to his wife with a smile.
“Oh! You are quite right!” Indiana’s eyes lit up at the revelation and she nodded in agreement. “I got so caught up that I didn’t even think of it.”
Misty smiled as Indiana chattered on about the ball and how wonderful it ought to be, with a light joke about how Misty would actually be able to enjoy one for once without having to chase corset strings in a back room.
The realization of how big the event was hit her all at once. Misty had been to her fair share of balls as a lady’s maid, but that was not the same as actually attending a ball as a lady. The help was never seen at a ball. For one of her station, attending a ball was watching from a curtain or back hallway out of sight, always ready to rescue their ladies should a bead come loose, or if a corset needed tightening after a dance.
As yet another wave of anxiety hit, Misty held her breath and reminded herself that she knew everything there was to know. She only need act how she had observed ladies doing, and everything would be fine. She hoped that such a thing worked well in practice.
“Still,” Indiana said thoughtfully, shaking Misty from her thoughts, “he will need to make this up to you. He owes you a dance. A dozen dances!”
“My feet would fall off at the ankle!” Misty protested at the thought. She could at least feel confident in her ballroom dancing. Indiana’s mother had her instructed along with Indiana’s sisters.
“Then he could carry you!” Indiana stated, earning a laugh and an affectionate kiss on the cheek from her husband. Distracted, the young woman dropped her plotting for the time being.
Misty had to smile as well. It had felt like ages since she had seen Indiana so alive. Her spirit had been all but crushed right after her father’s death, smothered by the weight of her responsibilities. Morgan had certainly made a difference in the young woman’s life in a hurry. It was so good to see her dear friend laugh and speak her wild ideas so freely. She could only hope to have such a transformation herself one of these days.
“Are you certain you do not want my husband to go find him? You both ought to be announced together, at least.” Indiana asked thoughtfully.
Misty shook her head with a soft smile. “This is for the better.”
Morgan and Indiana exchanged quiet glances as they politely avoided asking Misty to elaborate on the details. It was clear to Misty that they both knew what a strict and traditional woman Cody’s mother was.
Even in Pioneer Town where class lines were blurred, Mrs. Mills had standards that Misty could not meet.
* * *
Misty did her utmost best to keep her composure as she made her way into the elaborate ballroom. It was almost surreal to hear her name announced at the door as a servant politely took her shawl.
The ballroom was smaller than most that she had seen. Especially in San Francisco, where the vaulted ceilings could reach well over the guests’ heads and whole string orchestras might play in the background. Still, it was certainly a large affair for a town of this size.
Not to mention it was the only ball she had ever attended as an actual guest. The flickering candles and the soft sound of the piano were mesmerizing as she gazed over the crowd. The ballroom was breathtaking with polished dark wood trim and crystals dripping elegantly from the chandeliers overhead. The tables were laden with flowers and luxurious tablecloths. There were servers offering guests drinks from exquisite glasses and small appetizers on fine china plates that had to have come from overseas.
It was not the biggest or most elaborate ball in the world, but to Misty the detail that Olivia had managed to put into the event was amazing, especially for a town of this size, so far removed from other towns and cities. She could not help but admire the woman’s ability to organize such an elaborate event, especially given the short notice.
As Misty made her way across the room, she could not help but feel dozen of pairs of eyes on her. She felt her face color as she tried not to study her observers too openly. There was a strange mix of emotions on their faces. Some seemed openly curious about her, a little surprised in a town where everyone would know each other. However, a few seemed to smolder as they regarded her, as if they were vexed with her for a personal slight.
“Those fussy hens,” Indiana said in amusement as she stood by her friend, giving the woman an amused and overly wide smile. “It must be eating them alive that they’d never look as amazing as you do tonight.”
“Oh, do not be silly, Indiana,” Misty scoffed lightly as she gave the back of Indiana’s hand a light swat.
“Well, it is true!” Indiana stated resolutely. “I’m jealous of how well your gown turned out, especially with it under such a rush. I might have to steal the design one day, if it is all right with you.”
“Of course.” Misty said. Before she could get another word out, Indiana took her lightly by the elbow and started to lead her toward a friendly looking group.
“Allow me to introduce you to a few people while Cody is busy,” Indiana insisted. Misty did not have time to protest or become anxious over meeting strangers formally. Indiana proceeded to introduce her to one person after another, so swiftly that it was all she could do to keep up.
It felt as if she had been introduced to half of town.
“Well now, you can be quite full of surprises,” an all too familiar voice said from behind her.
Misty hoped her smile was convincing as she turned to see Olivia standing there, looking regal and sophisticated in her deep royal blue evening gown and perfect white gloves. Gems dripped along her neck and in her hair, making her look more like a queen than simply a wealthy woman.
“Mrs. Mills, it is a pleasure to see you,” Misty said pleasantly, trying to dispel her former paranoia out of her mind for the time being.
Mrs. Mills regarded her much like a school teacher studying a child who wallowed in a mud puddle before class. It took considerable effort not to wilt under the gaze and check her dress for a stain or other imperfection.
“Charmed,” the woman said shortly, yet her tone indicated that she was anything but charmed with Misty’s presence. Her lips puckered thoughtfully as she looked the young woman up and down, studying the dress. It confused Misty to no end why the woman would bother to invite her if she was so openly displeased.
“You could almost pass as a respectable young woman,” Mrs. Mills stated as she stood with hands folded perfectly in front of her.
“Thank you, Mrs Mills.” Misty could not think of anything else to say. The barely veiled insult was the closest the woman had ever come to paying her a compliment.
“Of course, it takes more
than a fine dress to make a lady of quality,” Olivia stated in a falsely pleasant tone. “A sow’s ear is still an ear, no matter how much lace you hide it under.”
Misty tried not to gasp at the rudeness. “I fail to understand your meaning, Mrs. Mills,” Misty said in an even tone. She was determined not to let this encounter ruin the evening.
“I did not expect you to, my dear. Do not think too much of it. I was merely musing out loud.”
No matter what the woman thought of her, Misty was still at the ball. That meant that the woman had to feel as if she were worthy of the invitation, no matter how obligatory it might have been. She had to prove she was able to serve as a good partner for Mrs. Mills’ son. She only had one chance to make the impression. If she failed, it would be with half the town watching. She could not afford to let the spiteful comments rattle her.
“I shall cast it from my mind then.” Even Misty could not believe how convincingly she faked the cheerful tone as she brushed away the conversation. “The ball is simply lovely, Mrs. Mills.”
“Oh.” the woman gave a soft laugh and waved a hand elegantly toward the room. “A little thing like this? I imagine it would seem amazing, especially to a maid who probably never saw more than a glance from the kitchens. But I do thank you for the compliment.”
“Actually, as a lady’s maid, I saw many balls. I assure you, this one is simply splendid.” Misty said pleasantly. “Please do not worry. I am possessed of enough experience not to embarrass you in front of your other guests,” she said haughtily, unable to resist the comment.
“That is... most reassuring,” Olivia said, though she seemed less than pleased at the claim.
Misty said scanned the room trying to find a hint of Indiana. It was almost as if Mrs. Mills had hoped that she would embarrass her at her own ball. But that was silly, wasn’t it?
Some sign or excuse to escape. Just then, she heard Cody’s formal name announced at the doorway. She could not conceal the sigh of relief at the sound of his arrival.
Misty's True Love (Mail Order Brides of Pioneer Town, Book 2) Page 5