Where am I? Where is the garden?he hissed.
“A garter snake.” I reached down to pick it up. “I’ll bring you back shortly,” I told him as he coiled around my hand.
Maddox looked at it in horror. “I-I...how did that thing get in there?”
A groan came from the bedroll on the other side. “What is it, Mad—agh!” Flannery screamed, face going stark white.
I winced at the high-pitched sound. “Take this to the garden, will you?”
“B-but I...snake!”
“He’s harmless. I promise.” I took Flannery’s hand and transferred the garter snake to his palm. “Garden, please.”
“Oooh,” Flannery whimpered, holding the creature at arm’s length as he half-walked and half-ran down the hall.
I knelt and picked up the dress, unfurling it. Instead of a ballgown, it was a plain work dress made of rough cotton. “Did Isabelle send this?” I asked, stifling a yawn.
Maddox frowned. “A servant did. She looked like she was in a hurry or...oh.” He nodded. “Isabelle. Should I report her?”
“Report her to whom? Her father?”
He opened and closed his mouth. “She can’t get away with this!”
“Of course she can. Besides, we’re leaving tomorrow.”
Maddox fumed. “I don’t understand how you can just...take this!”
“I’m going back to sleep.”
I did precisely that. After a moment of blissful slumber, Serena entered.
“Breakfast, milady.” She set a tray on the bedside table. “Preparations are going on downstairs. You won’t meet Mr. Turner until the ball tonight.”
“Who?” I mumbled, squinting as Serena drew open the curtains, letting white winter light into the room.
“Mr. Dominic Turner, the gentleman who arrived yesterday. He’s the son of General Killian Turner. You’ve heard of him, no?”
I jerked up at the familiar name, then groaned.
Just when I thought my stay here couldn’t get any worse, my former fiancé reappears after years of separation. I had spent countless balls and soirees from ages fourteen and up avoiding him ever since Mother broke off our engagement. I always hated the boy. He was pompous and irritating from what I remembered—and oddly attached to me despite my coldness toward him.
After informing me that Giselle will pay a visit later, Serena left me to dine in bed. A plate of fish was left out for Misty, who immediately went to the window to eat. I was carefully applying rouge to my lips when Giselle barged in.
“Good morning! Let’s get you in your corset, shall we?”
I jumped, smudging the berry red across my chin. “Is it that much work to knock?” I muttered, wiping the color away.
Giselle unslung her bag from her shoulder and removed several yards of royal purple velvet from within. “We have a fitting to do.”
“A fitting?” I demanded as she dug through the drawers for my corset. “The ball is tonight.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said, fishing out the garment. “I told you I sew quickly.”
I raised my arms as she pulled the corset over me. She made quick work of the laces. “That doesn’t mean you should,” I muttered, comforted by the snug support of the boning.
A torrent of velvet cascaded over my head without warning as Giselle tugged the gown down. When I emerged from the other side, it came into view. The bodice was a harmonious blend of elegantly curved seams and clever darts that hugged my figure. Rows of luminous seed pearls trailed down to a center point at my waist. I blinked, surprised at how different my reflection looked.
“Let’s see,” Giselle said, stepping back with a scrutinizing gaze. “A little loose under the arms, but otherwise, perfect!”
