“Because if they’re noticing your clothing”－Beth muttered as she rooted through the pile－“they won’t notice you.” A crow of triumph passed her lips as she picked up a dress in deep crimson. “Here we are.”
“Red?” Tay’s fingers stretched out and touched the fabric with nervous fingers. “Isn’t that a bit bright?”
“Not with your colouring.” Beth tugged the dress out of Tay’s hands and pushed her into a chair. “Now sit still as I do your hair and makeup.”
“How do you know how to do this?” Tay asked, as Beth set to work. “Aren’t you a scullery maid like me?”
“One of the perks of being sent to the Overseer’s house,” Beth explained, through a mouth full of hairpins. “You learn to do lots of different things.”
After what seemed like an age, Tay sat in an uncomfortable chair as Beth applied makeup and then combed, teased and pinned her hair into place. With each uncomfortable, and sometimes painful, tug at her hair, Tay drifted further away from the room, as her thoughts wandered to Lars and Cody. They had been very clear that they had no authority to transfer people from their assigned positions, which was why she had to see Darius about her father. Granted, she had never had an unshakeable belief in their trustworthiness, but with Beth’s arrival, the little faith she had, disappeared in a cloud of suspicion.
“Now for the dress.” Shaken from her thoughts, she stood and allowed Beth to dress her in the vivid, jewel-rich tones. “Stand up straight.” She glanced over and scowled at Beth, but her shoulders pressed back at the command. A hiss of pain escaped her lips as Beth drew the dress tight at the back. “Stop being a baby.”
“One more word,” Tay warned. She had to be here, but she was damned if she were going to take much more ordering around.
“There.” Beth stepped back and pointed at the mirror. “Take a look.”
Set into the side of one of the wardrobes, and etched in gilt, the full-length mirror gleamed slightly in the light. With a sigh, Tay stepped forward. Her image swam into focus, and she took a step back, startled at the reflection she saw before her. The slightly timid house maid had vanished, replaced by some richly dressed stranger. The deep crimson dress fitted in all the right places, and the rustling taffeta held a glossy sheen which glowed beneath the lights. Small clusters of jet and crystal were stitched across the bodice and full skirt, and they glittered as the light struck them.
Tay slid her fingers across the fabric before turning her attention to her hair. The dark locks had been twisted into a mass of corkscrew curls and pinned to the crown of her head beneath of jet and silver fascinator. Her makeup had been lightly applied, and her face almost vanished beneath the magnificence of the dress.
“Oh.” Barely able to speak, she turned back to face Beth. “I look…”
“Beautiful,” Beth answered, a slight hint of regret in her voice. “And not at all like yourself.” She walked forward and brushed an imaginary bit of dust from the back of the dress. “Now you’d better get going.” She stepped back and jumped slightly as Tay flung her arms about her.
“Thank you.” Now that the costume of nobility had been donned, she felt somewhat better about the whole situation. Despite the slightly underfed cast to her appearance, the dress altered her entire façade. Visions of immediately being denounced as an imposter began to fade as she stepped back, and headed for the living room. She pushed open the door and stopped at the sight of Darius sitting in one of the chairs. As the door swung open, he jumped to his feet. Tay was gratified to note that his mouth opened slightly in shock as he took in her appearance. A moment of stunned silence fell over the pair of them as each regarded the other. Darius had also dressed for dinner, and Tay ran her eyes across his elegant garb in stupefied appraisal. He had been handsome before, but now, she closed her mouth as she realised that she was staring.
“Do I look okay?” she asked, nervous with the silence that fell over the room.
“You look…” He paused for a moment, and she could almost see his mind working as his gaze slid over her. “…the part,” he finished lamely, before he turned and headed for the door. “It was a good choice.” He depressed the door handle, and opened the door. “Shall we?” He held out his arm and gestured to her.
Tay swallowed nervously and glanced back at Beth. The other girl flashed an encouraging smile. Tay took a deep breath, before she walked across the floor, and joined Darius in the corridor.
The door closed quietly behind them, and they walked in an uncomfortable silence toward the elevator.
As the elevator door closed, she turned to face him. “Now what?”
“You eat dinner,” he replied, his voice maddeningly calm. “Quietly and with no fanfare.”
“What about the others?” Questions and fears rose up to strangle her, and she wished she could talk more freely.
“What about them?” He looked down at her and modified his tone. “Talk if they talk, answer questions if asked. The tables are also mixed, so you may be seated next to someone of a higher rank.” The elevator door opened, and faint sounds of music and conversation drifted toward them. Darius stepped out into the hall, but Tay hesitated, nerves freezing her in place. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get you out of it.” At his apology, Tay felt some of her anger melt away. “It’ll be fine.” He held out his arm and nodded encouragingly. “I won’t be too far away.”
Slowly and with reluctance, she stretched out her fingers and took hold of his arm. Together they walked down the corridor in silence. Tay’s fingers shook as they gripped his arm, and she was grateful for the makeup, as it hid her pasty and terrified face.
“There you are.” Darius stopped by a wide, closed door and let go of her. She felt her hand drop to her side with something akin to loss, and she looked up at Darius, wishing that he would remain with her. The thought of navigating the social whirl beyond that door was more than she could bear. “I’ll be next door.” And with that, he left her there.
Tay dithered on the threshold, wondering if she could feign some sudden illness. From beyond the heavy door, she could hear the sounds of laughter and conversation, and panic rose within her.
“Don’t just stare at it.” Tay jumped at the sound of the voice, and turned to face the speaker. A girl in a long dress of fuchsia and black walked toward her. “Open the door,” she continued, as she drew level.
“Sorry I’m just a little nervous,” Tay said, trying to control the quaver in her voice. She reached out and pushed the door open. The girl swept past her and walked sedately into the room. Tay followed slowly, taking in a room packed with more nobility than she had ever seen in her life. At each of the circular tables sat groups of young women, dressed in their finest.
“Your name, Miss?” Tay jumped and turned to face the smartly dressed footman by the door.
“T…Lyana James,” Tay said, almost fumbling her assumed name in a hurry to speak.
“This way.” Seemingly heedless of her slip, the footman led her to the other side of the room, and one of the smaller tables. Five other girls sat at the table, and they regarded her curiously as the footman smoothly pulled out her seat and she sat down. “Would you like a drink, Miss?” he asked, after he had placed the napkin on her lap.
“Water please.” Ignorant of the choices available to her, she went with the safest option. The footman nodded and stepped away, leaving Tay to the curious stares of the other women.
“So”－Tay turned to face the speaker, a young woman with jet black hair and dusky skin－“where are you from?”
“I’m Lyana James. My father’s the Overseer of the Manufacturing sector.” Her answer had been drilled into her by Lyana, and later on, Darius. Snobbery, they had explained, ran deep within the nobility, and making mention of the Factory would certainly not endear her to any of the others.
“How fascinating,” one of the other girls noted, with a too-sweet smile. Tay felt heat rise to her face at the implied insult but managed not to respond. “I’m Talia Winnic
k. My father leads the Clockwork Temple.” Tay swallowed as Talia spoke. The Clockwork Temple was responsible for all of the gadgets that maintained life. It designed lighting, token readers, and other wonders that she had only ever heard about. In the hierarchy of nobility, The Clockwork Temple was second only to the King. “I’ve heard so much about the Factory,” Talia continued, with a nasty smile. “Can you tell me all about it?”
The rest of the girls at the table leant forward, vicious anticipation in their eyes. Tay felt her palms grow sweaty as she struggled to come up with a response. If this had been the Frazers’ kitchen, she would have had no trouble in formulating an answer, but here in this strange nest of vipers, she felt lost. Talia smiled broadly as the silence lengthened, and colour rose in Tay’s cheeks.
“There’s not a lot to tell,” she said finally. “It’s a Factory, it makes goods.” The waiter appeared at her elbow with a tall glass of water, and she sipped it gratefully. “It doesn’t tap dance or anything, so why are you so interested?” Talia’s face reddened slightly at her words, and she opened her mouth to speak.
“I’m Amira.” Another girl spoke, interrupting the impending tirade. “My family deals in the trade in exotic goods.”
“Nice to meet you.” Tay smiled, and with that, the rest of the table began to talk. The other three girls, Annetta, Cara and Linnett, were the younger daughters of landowners from the South Western provinces. By the time the first course had been laid on the table, she had made an enemy in Talia, a friend in Amira, and was cautiously optimistic about befriending the other three. The second course had been served and eaten when the sound of a gavel striking wood caused all conversation in the room to stop.
“Good evening.” A tall woman stood up from one of the larger tables and addressed the room. “I am Matron Caline.” There was a brief murmur from the room at the sound of her name. “I maintain the dignity of this household, and its affairs.” Dressed in tones of grey and black, the matron certainly looked the part, and Tay watched with interest. “Tomorrow, the betrothal ball will be held.” An excited chatter rose but with one wave of her hand the noise stilled. “And at that time you will flirt, dance and amuse yourselves to your heart’s content.” She stopped speaking and glanced about the room. “However”－silence followed, as her piercing gaze landed on each table in turn－“until that time, you have no need to be seen alone in the company of a man you claim no relation to. Your parents have placed you into our hands, and they expect certain behaviour.” Her eyes landed on Tay’s table, and the group shivered at the severity in her gaze. “So woe betide any that is discovered in places they should not be. You have your apartments, and amusement can be found in other areas of the palace. Keep to these areas, and we will have no problem. Stray from these rules, and the penalties for disobeying will be severe.” Speech exhausted, the woman sat back down and conversation slowly resumed.
“I’ve heard of her,” Amira noted, after taking a sip of wine. “Last year she found the Winterson heir with the Rosen heiress, and she sent them both packing.” She lowered her head, and everyone leant forward to catch hold of her words. “Both lost their betrothals.”
“I heard that she’s the reason the Princess is not attending this year,” Linnett butted in, her voice alive with gossip. “Apparently she was caught in a compromising situation with her tutor.”
“Well, I heard…”
Tay tuned out the gossip and focused on the newly arrived dessert; a warm chocolate cake with ice cream. Their talk was petty, full of dresses, dances and betrothals, and she could not feign interest in such things. All of her life had been concerned with the difficulty of finding food, and worry about the future. In contrast, worrying about finding the right pair of shoes seemed childish. She took a forkful of cake and chewed thoughtfully, content to let the conversation drift past her.
“So, what do you think?” She jerked out of her thoughts as Linnett spoke to her. Her head snapped up from the swirling pattern of chocolate and ice cream, and stared about her. All of the other girls were staring, their eyes fixed and waiting for an answer.
“Err…” She stammered slightly as she struggled to recall anything from the conversation. The only thing she remembered concerned the matron, and talk had certainly moved past that. The other girls shifted slightly in their seats as the silence lengthened. She wracked her brains for an answer, but nothing occurred, and before the silence grew too uncomfortable, she asked. “What about?”
“The Prince,” Cara said with incredulity. “What do you think?”
“I…” Once more, the sensation of feeling trapped rose in her, and she swallowed, trying to get her emotions under control. “I haven’t met him yet,” she uttered, hoping that she would be let off the hook to continue with her thoughts.
“Well, I haven’t met him,” Amira butted in, “but I have seen him.”
“And?” A small chorus surrounded her announcement, and all of the other girls, Tay included, leant forward to hear more.
“He’s very handsome,” Amira said, with a sigh. “And funny.” She rested her back against the chair and continued. “He came to open a new mill on my father’s estate.”
“So”－the group moved even closer－“details.”
“He’s got the most wonderful eyes,” Amira gushed, as she revelled in her place, at the centre of attention. “And he seems to be laughing all the time.”
“We want to know about his body,” Linnett groaned, exasperated by the sentimentality that Amira seemed to display. “Is he…” She mimed something with her hands. “You know…?”
Amira blushed slightly and lowered her gaze. “Yes,” she whispered as the small group around her gave genteel giggles of appreciation.
“Well, come on,” Cara prodded, “tell us more. What’s he like?”
“What about his voice?” Linnett interrupted and poured herself another glass of wine. There was a slight slurring, giggling quality to her voice. Tay reasoned that she had conquered tipsy, and was now racing toward being drunk.
“Screw his voice,” Annetta called out, the sound of her voice carrying further than their small table, drawing looks of disapproval from the rest of the room, Matron Caline in particular. Giggling like a naughty child, she covered her hand with her mouth and tried to stifle her chuckles.
Tay felt the energy of the group wash over her for a moment. Despite the wealth they wore, it was little different from the gossip that reigned around the Frazers’ kitchen table at the end of a long day. The cook would brew a large pot of tea, and they would sit at the long wooden table, chatting and gossiping as they polished off the remnants of that day’s cake. For one strange moment, she wondered if she could call these women friends, even privileged as they were. The conversation moved beyond the Prince, and they began to talk about the other men that would be at the ball. Tay followed the discussion with a little more interest, but less enthusiasm, as she suddenly remembered her task.
“Don’t you have a brother?” Talia broke into her thoughts, and she looked up from the coffee cup.
“Yes,” she answered finally, controlling the squeak in her voice as she readied herself to answer questions about Darius.
“Isn’t he betrothed to Kaylin Amstead?” Linnett asked, with a thoughtful expression.
“No,” Cara replied. “You’re thinking of Rogir Tamstein. Darius James is the handsome one.”
Tay felt a jolt of shock at Cara’s words. True, she did consider Darius attractive, but it hadn’t really occurred to her that he had made an impression elsewhere.
“He’s not betrothed yet is he?” Talia pressed on with the questioning, as though none of the others had spoken.
“I don’t think so.” Tay cringed at her wishy-washy words. She had to be making the worst impression on this small group of people, and she struggled to find some confidence. “He hasn’t said anything about it.”
“He is going to be at tomorrow’s ball?”
“Yes.” Tay managed to inject som
e surety into her voice, as the group broke out into excited giggles at her words.
“You’ll have to introduce me,” Cara demanded, as Amira chuckled next to her.
“Of course.” Tay felt mildly annoyed at the way the girls whispered and giggled, as they each asked pointed questions about Darius and who he would dance with.
The sound of the gavel struck again and the hall fell silent as the last of the crockery was cleared away. Matron Caline stood once more, and smiled across the crowd, a slow smirk that did not meet the eyes.
“Thank you for your attendance.” And with that, she swept out of the dining room and away.
“Nice to meet you.” Amira smiled as she pushed her chair back, and made ready to leave.
“I think we should meet for breakfast tomorrow,” Linnett called, as she dragged a lemon-yellow shawl about her shoulders.
“Breakfast will be served in your rooms,” Talia interjected, with a sneer. “Didn’t you read the itinerary?”
“Alright then,” Linnett continued, unruffled by Talia’s mocking tones. “We’ll meet in the library before lunch.” She glanced at Talia. “I believe lunch is a communal affair.”
“Deal,” Annetta replied, as she picked up her small clutch bag and started to head for the door. “Tomorrow at eleven?”
There was a general nod of assent as the group stood up from the table and made ready to leave. Tay followed behind them, acutely aware of the limitations of her knowledge. The thought of attempting further conversation left her cold. They walked out into the hallway and headed for the main staircase and elevators. The babble of noise felt strangely comforting as Tay followed the crowd and away from the dining hall.
Chapter 14
Tay made her way back to her chambers with some relief. The meal had been exquisite, but she couldn’t take any enjoyment from the evening. Despite her concerns about her cover, the indulgence displayed by every member of that room had sickened her. They dined well, on fine plates and in heated rooms, wearing jewels that could feed her family for a year, and still, they complained. She pushed open the door to her chambers, and walked toward the curtained windows, dropping her bag on one of the chairs as she did so. Pushing open the heavy fabric, she stared out across the grounds. Shrouded in snow, the grounds stretched away into the darkness, and the burning desire to escape once again filled her mind.
Amber Sky (C.O.I.L.S Of Copper and Brass Book 1) Page 14