Sarah Booth Delaney
Page 171
She held my gaze for a long moment before she released my hands and stepped back. "I'll pick you up in an hour. I need to see Oscar and change my own clothes."
"Thank you, Tinkie, but there's no need to pick up me." I called after her retreating back. "I'll see you both at the party."
She was barely gone when Jitty appeared at my dressing table, adjusting a truly unattractive mop cap fitted over what looked to be unwashed curls. Her dress was a harsh blue cloth, loosely fitted and covered with a dirty white apron. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked. Jitty was prone to numerous costume changes, but she always wore elegant and attractive clothes.
"The revolution happened, that's what. Even a ghost could lose her head if she showed up in too much finery."
"Sounds to me like you stayed at the ball too long." I slipped into my black jeans.
"At least I had the courage to attend."
I stopped and turned to look at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Tinkie was giving you some good advice. The only thing you ever regret is what you don't try."
"Tell that to Marie when her head rolls into a basket. She could have done without that 'let them eat cake' comment, and she might have lived to raise her children."
Jitty smiled. "You really aren't a student of history, are you?"
"Somehow I think I'm going to get the lecture no matter how I answer."
"Right. The monarchy of France was doomed not by the actions of Marie and her husband, but by the intrigues of men who lusted for power. The rabble was roused by those with an agenda. If you don't get history, take a look at what's happening in Washington D.C. today."
Politics was the furthest thing from my mind, and I was a little shocked that Jitty would take an interest in them. "Can I please get ready for this gathering without having to think about rabble and rousing and baskets filled with wigless heads?"
"Of course." She stood up. "I have an appointment, anyway. Just remember, Marie might not have paid attention to the warning signs, but when she goes to her death, she'll do so with courage. "Jitty shimmered out of the room.
"I hate your freaking enigmatic last lines!" I threw a brush at the place where she'd been standing. She was gone, though, and no antics would bring her back. I slipped into my shirt and set to work on my make-up. I had a celebration to attend and an apology to give. I wanted to look my best no matter what the night—or the future—threw at me.