"Take one of Rose's old dresses. You have two hours to make it fit."
"But, my lady..."
"But, Mama..." Rose said at the same time.
"Hush!" Lady Cullpepper turned to her daughter. "You know you must be there, after your disastrous performance last week. Be grateful that Lady Randolph took pity on you and invited you. She has her own box at the opera, and you will meet all the important lords and ladies there. And mind you, no fainting this time!"
Rose looked like she was about to burst into tears. "It's not like I can control it. And I didn't want to faint at the ball last week."
Lady Cullpepper turned to Mira. "Mira. I implore you. You have worked in this house for the past seven years and have proven yourself reliable. For tonight only, you are not a maid, but Rose's companion. The entiretonwill be assembled, and the Prince Regent himself will appear. You must behave accordingly. You must pretend to be a lady."
"I'll do my best, my lady."
"Keep your eyes averted. Don't stare. Don't say anything a lady wouldn't say." Lady Cullpepper paced up and down as she lectured. "No, the best thing is to say nothing at all. Don't attract unnecessary attention. Walk straight with your chin up, as if you were carrying an invisible book on your head. Why, oh, why can't we have more time to train you?"
Mira swallowed as Lady Cullpepper's nervousness began to spread to her.
"Show me your fingernails."
Mira held out her hands.
Lady Cullpepper stared at them and slapped them away. "Terrible. You need to clean them better and cream them to make them soft. Nothing gives away your status as a housemaid as easily as your hands. I shall give you gloves. Wear them."
"Yes, my lady."
"Always remember that you are a lady of genteel birth. When people approach you and speak to you, smile with your lips closed and nod. You will always be one step behind Rose, making sure she has enough air by fanning her and having the Hartshorn salt ready. You must hold it in your hand at all times and push it under her nose as soon as she becomes pale. You will sit behind Rose in Lady Randolph's box. Make sure she is seen. She is healthy, beautiful, and available. She. Must. Not. Faint. Is that understood?"
Lady Cullpepper dug her sharp nails into Mira's upper arm.
"Yes, my lady. I'll do my best, my lady."
"But Mama!" Miss Cullpepper wailed. "I don't want to be available!"
"Hush, child. What on earth are you saying? Of course you want to be available and marry a handsome lord. There, there. Go to your room and get ready. Help her, Mira. Rose should wear the apple-green dress. It will suit her very well. You should wear the lavender one. Take the matching scarf and gloves. Emma will help you with your disastrous hair. And for God's sake, take that cap off!"
"Yes, my lady. Very good, my lady."
ChapterThree
The Haymarket Opera Housewas teeming with people.
Everyone claimed to be there to see Angelica Catalani's phenomenal performance in Mozart'sThe Marriage of Figaro.The truth, of course, was that the gentlemen of thetonwanted to show off their new waistcoats, and the ladies of fashion their stylish gowns. Gallant gentlemen visited the ladies in the boxes and courted them in the gallery. One flirted with fans and batted their eyelashes. One made note of whom to call on next morning and whom to send a bouquet of flowers. Thus, the opera house became a stage for amorous performances of its own, where hearts entwined, and new matches emerged.
Mira swallowed nervously and clutched Miss Cullpepper's arm for support.
"You don't need to grab me that tightly," she informed her, "I don't feel unwell yet. I'll let you know when I do."
"Yes, miss," Mira replied, loosening her grip. She clutched her reticule instead, which contained a vinaigrette of smelling salts. She feared that she might need these for herself rather than for Miss Cullpepper.
Remember, you're a lady,she repeated.
Head up. Chin up. Small steps. Graceful movements. Smile with closed lips.
Heavens! It was difficult to remember all that.
She nearly tumbled into Miss Cullpepper, who came to a full stop.
"We have to go up there now." Her voice wavered as she pointed to the marble stairs leading up to the boxes. "Lady Randolph looks impatient already." Lady Randolph had walked ahead of them, almost losing them in the crowd. She was a tall, haughty-looking woman who walked around with her lorgnette raised to her eyes.
