Improper (The Phoenix Club #1) - Darcy Burke Page 0,33
peach overskirt that exposed the center of the skirts of the gown, the garment was as heavy as it was unwieldy. Fiona was grateful for the support of Lord Overton’s arm.
“Careful there, Miss Wingate,” he murmured, his features creasing in a slight wince.
Fiona loosened her grip on his sleeve. “My apologies. This is a treacherous costume.”
Lady Pickering looked from the four pale yellow feathers in Fiona’s hair style to survey the room where perhaps a dozen other young ladies were already queued to see the queen. “Yes, four feathers was just right. And the cameo was a brilliant touch, if I do say so.” Her gaze dipped to the several necklaces draped about Fiona’s neck, which also contributed to her sensation of feeling as though she were a human anchor. Indeed, she’d wondered how she was going to leverage herself off the seat of the coach when they’d arrived. Thankfully, the earl had provided a great deal of assistance.
“Pardon me for a moment,” Lady Pickering said. “I must speak with Lady Hargrove.”
Fiona glanced about, wondering if any of the other young ladies felt as ridiculous—or frightened—as she did. And where was Cassandra? She was also being presented today.
A lady in her early forties and, presumably, her daughter approached them. “Good afternoon, Lord Overton. May I present my daughter, Miss Judith Nethergate?”
The earl bowed most elegantly, extending his leg in a way Fiona had never seen him do before. “Lady Corby, Miss Nethergate, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gestured to Fiona. “Allow me to introduce my ward, Miss Fiona Wingate.”
Fiona dipped into a rather shallow curtsey. She didn’t dare come close to the depth that would be required in the throne room.
Miss Nethergate was a very pretty and wholly proper English rose with pale blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her blossom-pink lips perfectly matched the ribbons and ruffles on her ivory gown. It was every bit as ostentatiously absurd as Fiona’s. In fact, Fiona suspected it might have been slightly larger. Miss Nethergate also had five feathers in her hair—four ivory and one pink.
Lady Corby’s gaze slid to Fiona. “I didn’t realize you had a ward. How charming.”
“Yes, I assumed responsibility for her after my father passed. Miss Wingate is enjoying her first Season so far.” He looked to Miss Nethergate. “And how is your Season?”
Miss Nethergate fluttered her lashes prettily. “This is my first outing, my lord. I am looking forward to the Basildon ball tomorrow evening. Will you be there?”
“Indeed we will.”
Fiona wondered if she could get her eyelashes to do what Miss Nethergate’s had done. She’d ask Cassandra to teach her. Surely she’d be able to do it.
“Your gown is lovely,” Miss Nethergate said, eyeing Fiona’s dress.
“Thank you. They’re quite large though, aren’t they?”
“That is the way of court dress,” Lady Corby said with a patient smile. “If you walk correctly and curtsy with grace, the gown will flow and sway beautifully. Like birds showing their plumage.”
Well, the feathers certainly brought birds to mind. Though they’d have to be particularly fat ones.
“Oh, it’s time,” Lady Corby said, her smile evaporating and her brow creasing as she pivoted toward the doors of the throne room, which had just opened.
“Good luck,” Miss Nethergate said before turning with an effortless poise that made Fiona want to weep.
Lady Pickering rejoined them. “Ready? We’ll wait to be called.”
Scanning the room again, Fiona saw that Cassandra had finally arrived. And it was a good thing because her name was called next. Fiona met her gaze as she walked past, and Cassandra winked at her.
“Good luck!” Fiona mouthed.
How did Cassandra look spectacular in her overlarge gown? White with minimal gold and red accents, her dress was simply magnificent. It was the lack of fussiness, Fiona realized, that made it look less…garish.
No, she didn’t look garish at all, especially given the way she glided across the floor as if she regularly walked around in such a dreadfully uncomfortable state. For even though Cassandra’s gown might be the loveliest one here, it was still a death trap as far as Fiona was concerned.
Suddenly, Fiona heard her name. Every part of her turned to ice, and she feared she was too frozen solid to move. But then the earl nudged her, pulling her along into the throne room.
Rectangular, with people lining the sides as if they