Lachlan didn’t deign to explain himself, but rose to his feet and approached Isla, his eyes narrowing on the blue gown. “This isn’t the gown you intend to wear to Lady Bagshot’s ball, is it?”
“I’d thought to, yes. Why, don’t you like it?”
Lachlan’s gaze shifted to Hyacinth, who was standing behind Isla, then back to his sister. “Not for you, no.”
Isla ran a reverent hand over the skirt of the sky blue gown. “Well, it’s up to Lady Chase and Hyacinth, not me.”
“What’s wrong with the white one? It’ll do—” Lachlan began.
“Of course you should have it.” Hyacinth was aware of Lachlan’s gaze fixed on her, and she forced a smile, ignoring the pang in her chest at the thought of losing the blue gown. “You look lovely in it. Doesn’t she, Grandmother?”
Lady Chase’s eyes were misty. “Do you recall your final fitting for this gown, Hyacinth? I do. You reminded me so much of your mother that day. She used to wear that shade of blue. Well, well, Miss Ramsey must have it, of course. Such a lovely gown must be worn, mustn’t it? I don’t mind saying I did long to see you dance in it, Hyacinth, but there, never mind my sentimental ramblings.”
Hyacinth turned hastily away to hide the sudden tears pricking her eyes.
It’s just a gown. It doesn’t matter.
But the whisper she’d been trying to silence ever since she’d agreed to go to Brighton insisted she hadn’t just given up a gown.
She’d given up her season. Perhaps her future.
“There will be other gowns,” Hyacinth murmured, though she wasn’t certain if she meant to reassure her grandmother, or herself. “Can you alter it to fit Miss Ramsey in time for Lady Bagshot’s ball, Madame Bell?”
That poor lady was still trying to recover from Ciaran’s slur about the lace caps, but she rose from her chair, drew herself up with as much dignity as she could muster, and nodded to Lady Chase. “Because Madame is such a valued client, I will forget the grievous insult dealt me today. Send the gown to my shop in Bond Street, and it will be done.” She snapped a finger at the footman, who’d been stationed by the door. “See my carriage is fetched at once. Come, Eliza.”
“Andyou, Mr. Ciaran Ramsey.” Lady Chase pointed the tip of her cane at Ciaran. “You will escort Madame Bell to her carriage, and beg her pardon for your unspeakable rudeness today. Lace caps, indeed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ciaran offered Lady Chase a meek bow. “I can’t imagine why you should all be in such a fuss over Mrs. McGurty, but I can safely promise you, Isla, never to attend another dress fitting as long as I live. I’ll save my energies for ladies without gowns.” Ciaran frowned. “That’s notquitewhat I meant to say, but it’s, ah…something like that.”
Isla groaned. “For pity’s sake, Ciaran, will you hush?”
Hyacinth, who thought it wise to separate Ciaran and Madame Bell as soon as possible, gathered up the measuring tapes and pins still scattered across the floor, handed them to Madame Bell’s assistant, then followed them all down the hallway and saw them safely turned over to Lady Chase’s butler, Eddesley.
When she returned to the parlor, she found Isla Ramsey wringing her hands, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I beg your pardon, Hyacinth. Ciaran is…well, he nearly killed your modiste, didn’t he? I’m not sure how one begs pardon for that.”
“No, me either.” But Hyacinth couldn’t quite resist the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Ciaran Ramsey was an awful tease, but there was no denying he was entertaining. “Oh, never mind, Isla. Gentlemen are notoriously ill behaved at dress fittings. Perhaps next time we’ll make Ciaran hold the pins, and stick him with one every time he misbehaves.”
Isla laughed. “He’d be bled into a swoon before midafternoon.”
“Lady Chase.” Lachlan had been standing with his back to the company, looking out a window, but now he turned and bowed to Lady Chase. “I see there are a series of pathways off the terrace that wind around behind those hedges. It’s a dry day, and warm enough. May Ciaran and I escort you for a walk while Miss Somerset takes Isla upstairs to change? The ladies can join us when they’re ready.”
“Yes, all right.” Lady Chase pushed the ottoman aside with her cane and got to her feet. “Miss Ramsey, please do join us when you’re ready, but Hyacinth, you look weary, dear.” Lady Chase tutted, and patted Hyacinth’s cheek. “A short rest will put some roses back in your cheeks.”
Hyacinth thought she heard Lachlan Ramsey make a soft, impatient sound, but when she risked a glance at him, his face was expressionless.
“Mr. Ramsey.” She curtsied to him, and then to Ciaran, who’d wandered back into the drawing room, looking rather chastened. “And Mr. Ciaran. Thank you for your…lively company this afternoon. Grandmother, I’ll come to you after I’ve rested.”
Hyacinth’s maid, Jenny, accompanied them upstairs to help Isla out of the blue gown without upsetting the pins. Isla was quiet as Jenny laced her back into her own gown. Isla’s face was thoughtful, and once she was tucked back into her day dress, she took Hyacinth’s hand in hers. “Forgive me, but I must ask. Are you certain you wish to give up the blue gown? You looked at it so wistfully while it was being pinned.”
They both turned to look at the blue gown, which Jenny had laid carefully over Hyacinth’s bed, along with a few dinner gowns, and another cream-colored ball gown Isla had chosen. Hyacinth’s chest swelled with another pang of regret, but she shook her head as she turned back to Isla. “That gown was made to be worn, and for the lady who wears it to be admired. It was made to be danced in.”
“Yes, it was. Byyou, Hyacinth, not me. Any one of your other ball gowns would do for me, but that one…well. It’syours, isn’t it?”
“Not anymore. If you don’t wear it, Isla, it will only go to waste.”
“It doesn’t have to. Wear it yourself, Hyacinth. Come to Lady Bagshot’s ball with me, and dance in it.”
Hyacinth didn’t answer, because how could she explain to a lady like Isla—a lady confident enough to hold her own with her two giant brothers, a lady brave enough to face down thetonafter a scandal—that even if she did wear the gown to Lady Bagshot’s ball, she wouldn’t dance in it. No, she’d hide behind a column, or cower in the ladies’ retiring room.
