me. I’ve never worn clothing so fine.”
“Nonsense. Master Ashcroft is entertaining company tonight, and you will be expected to look presentable. Just be grateful we were able to find something close to your size, miss. There was such a fuss this morning, such a terrible fuss. Fortunately Lady Victoria’s niece is traveling abroad, and she’s an awfully tall young woman as well. We were able to borrow a few pieces of her wardrobe and make adjustments in the nick of time.”
Elisabeth’s attention had snagged on a single word. “Company?” she asked.
“You cannot expect such a great man to spend every evening at his leisure. Several members of Parliament, and their wives, are joining him for dinner.”
Her pulse quickened. “Are they sorcerers?”
Hannah gave her an odd look. “No, dear. Master Ashcroft’s guests are from the Parliament, not the Magisterium—and a good thing, too. I haven’t the nerves for all those demons. I know they’re necessary, but they’re such unnatural creatures.” She shuddered, and didn’t notice the way Elisabeth relaxed. “Now, let’s get this old dress off you. . . . Just look at that scratch on your shoulder, you poor girl. . . .”
An eternity later, Elisabeth had been groomed within an inch of her life. Her skin felt tender from Hannah’s scrubbing, and the long, hot bath in the claw-foot tub had left her fingertips as wrinkled as dried apricots. Her scalp alternately stung and throbbed from the torture Hannah had inflicted upon it with a comb. She smelled faintly, and unsettlingly, of gardenias.
Piles of sapphire silk rustled around her body as Hannah fastened the gown in place. It was beautiful, but it had a great deal of extra fabric; Elisabeth felt as though she were swimming in her own miniature sea. Then Hannah began to lace the corset up the back, and Elisabeth’s breath hitched.
“I cannot breathe,” she said, scrabbling at her chest.
Hannah firmly took her hands and set them aside. “It’s the fashion, miss.”
Elisabeth was deeply alarmed by the idea that not breathing was fashionable. “What if I have to run,” she said, “or fight something?”
“In the master’s house?” Hannah sounded shocked. “I know you’ve had some dreadful experiences lately, dear, but it’s best if you keep such thoughts to yourself. That kind of talk is quite irregular for a young lady. Why, just look at you.”
She wheeled Elisabeth around to face the mirror. Elisabeth stared at the girl reflected there, barely recognizing herself. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in smooth, glossy chestnut waves, and she was cleaner than she had ever been before in her life. Her blue eyes contrasted vividly against her pink, scrubbed cheeks. While she had never possessed much in the way of curves, the sapphire gown made her figure look proud and statuesque. Just like the Director, she thought, with a tightness in her throat. Even the gown’s color reminded her of a warden’s uniform. She didn’t understand why it was irregular to talk about fighting—not when she looked the way she did.
“How lovely,” Hannah sighed. “The blue brings out your eyes, doesn’t it?”
Elisabeth smoothed her hands wonderingly over the dress’s silky fabric.
“I daresay it’s time to bring you down for dinner. Don’t worry, I’ll take you there. It’s awfully easy to get lost in this house—oh, dear, don’t trip! Just lift the gown up a bit if you have to. . . .”
Twilight now painted the grounds in shades of indigo and violet, but inside the manor remained as bright as day. Perfume wafted through the halls, mingling with the fragrance of lilies arranged in vases on every table. When Hannah ushered Elisabeth into the dining room, its dazzle made spots bloom across her vision. Light shone from everything: the silver utensils, the jewels shivering like giant raindrops on the ladies’ ears, the rims of champagne glasses as guests turned to see who had just entered.
Ashcroft was deep in conversation on the other side of the room, but a beautiful, frail-looking woman rushed over to Elisabeth and introduced herself as Ashcroft’s wife, Victoria. Her auburn curls were piled atop her head in an intricate sweep, and she had a habit of self-consciously touching the string of pearls around her neck, as if to reassure herself that it was still there. With her light, nervous movements and glistening silver gown, she reminded Elisabeth of the dove that had nested in the stonework outside her and Katrien’s room one spring, warbling anxiously whenever one of them stuck their head outside.
“I’m afraid Oberon can’t