Ward nodded. “I hope so.”
“Give her this.” Lizzie turned jerkily and pulled her bundled veil from under her pillow.
“I won’t be back for several days, Lizzie. I don’t want to take your veil.”
“I am giving it to her, to Mrs. Snowe.” Her peaked face was stubborn, her jaw set.
“Are you ready to stop mourning your mother?” He asked it gently, but thought it ought to be said aloud.
“I never wore that for Lady Lisette,” she said matter-of-factly.
Otis didn’t look up from Jarvis, who had emerged from the tunnel and was triumphantly eating his bread. “She began wearing the veil when Papa died.”
Ward grimaced. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t tell you,” Lizzie said.
She pushed the veil into his hands.
Chapter Forty-one
Monday, June 22, 1801
Fonthill
Susan’s answers began to arrive the morning after Eugenia’s arrival. The first letters demurred, but the fourth delightedly agreed to take over Snowe’s.
“I’m always here if you need me, but I intend to find a new challenge,” Eugenia wrote back. She had decided to entice away Monsieur Marcel and become his secret partner in an elegant pâtisserie in Mayfair.
She found she didn’t mind the idea of putting Ward to some inconvenience.
On a personal note, Evan was showing an entirely flattering interest. Never mind Villiers’s suggestion of an affaire, she had the distinct sense that if she gave Evan the slightest push, he would fall to his knees and beg to make her his future duchess.
What’s more, she had got through a whole day without crying. She could add it to the list of courageous things she’d done recently. Learn how to swim, have an affaire, not weep for a full day.
Just as her vision blurred, threatening her newly won award for courage, her bedchamber door opened and Harriet entered, a length of shimmering pink silk over her arm. “Look what I have for you, darling.” She put it on the bed.
“It’s exquisite!” Eugenia exclaimed, blinking away her tears.
“It was to be a surprise for your birthday,” her stepmother said, sitting beside her, “but I decided it was a good time for a present.”
“How on earth did you have it made without fittings?”
“Clothilde gave my seamstress one of your favorite gowns to copy. She’s been sewing madly for the last two days.” Harriet held up the gown beside Eugenia’s hair. “It’s perfect for your coloring.”
The gown was cut from a heavy silk so it would curve around the body and flare slightly at the ankles. A gauze overlay was embroidered with vines that curved and curled like the bordering images in medieval Bibles.
Clothilde entered, smiling. “Is it not délicieuse, madame?”
“Yes!” If Ward saw her in this, he would realize—Eugenia pushed the thought away. “What are all these small beads?” She peered closer. “Silver? Pure silver?”
Clothilde cackled delightedly. “There are shoes, as well, madame.” She held them out.
They were a misty silver silk, with heels and a complex patterns of leaves dotted with silver beads.
“The gown will look very well with the diamond necklace your father gave you when you turned eighteen,” Harriet said with satisfaction. “Remember you left it here to be repaired.”
“I suspect you have plans for when I should wear this magnificent ensemble?” Eugenia said, tracing the delicate embroidery with her fingers.
“Tonight! I’ve engaged a small orchestra and invited the neighbors.” Harriet twinkled at Eugenia. “Evan will not be able to take his eyes off you.”
“I don’t—” Eugenia began, but Harriet was already on her feet.
“The footmen will be bringing your bath in a minute, darling. Now I must go ready myself.”
“Don’t you think diamonds are too grand for an evening at home?” Eugenia asked.
“That necklace was your great-grandmother’s; it is not extraordinary except for its sentiment,” Harriet said. “I think it will make your father very happy if you wear it.”
After bathing, Eugenia stared absently into the mirror while Clothilde fussed with her hair.
What were Lizzie and Otis doing now? It was close to bedtime; perhaps they were in the nursery, playing at draughts and ladders with the new governess. Or Ruby might be overseeing Otis’s bath while Jarvis splashed in his own basin.
It was stupid, stupid, stupid, to feel so hollow around the heart, as if she’d lost a family, rather than a mere lover.
She’d only lost an acquaintance, really.
She felt better when she had on the new gown, with diamonds sparkling around her neck and in her hair. There had been life after Andrew, and there would be life after Ward.