way.
It would lend itself to a headache later, which could be a convenient excuse to leave the Martins’ ball when it all became too much. Provided Grace and Aubrey could be convinced to quit the gathering. They were far and away more social than she would ever be, and this was widely rumored to be the last important gathering before the Season began. It would be the place to be for those fond of such affairs.
Grace and her husband also happened to be some of the most considerate and caring individuals Edith had ever known. She had passed the winter with them in Derbyshire after Christmas, which had been a lovely retreat from her cares, though the return to them afterwards had been all the more brutal for the respite.
The Ingrams wouldn’t know that, though. All they knew was that Edith was attending this evening and that this Season would be different from the rest.
She was through with hiding from Society now.
She had to be.
“Nothing too ornate, Simms,” Edith said with a sigh as she pulled her arms free of her drab gown, watching as her maid began to pull every outdated ensemble from the bureau. “Simple elegance.”
Simms paused and gave her a bewildered look. “With my options, madam? I’ll be fortunate to manage elegant, though simple is easy enough.”
Edith frowned at the plump woman who had become both friend and advisor over the years. “I meant my hair.”
“I’m sure you did, madam.” Simms shook her head, pulling a familiar gown from the bureau.
Edith froze at the sight of it, her throat clenching. The boulder in her stomach rolled from end to end, and she swallowed as she stepped out of her dress. “That one.”
Simms looked at her with wide eyes. “Madam… I was only moving it. I wasn’t…”
“That one,” Edith said again, more firmly. She cleared her throat and nodded. “It’s the finest I have, and only the finest will do tonight.”
Her maid looked at the gown, faded from what it had once been, but still elegant in its cut and color. “It’s at least three years out of fashion, madam.”
Edith blinked, her hands settling on her hips as she eyed it. “Will it be that noticeable?”
Simms pursed her lips in thought. “I could pull some tufts in the sleeves, and if we tighten your stays, your form might give you more of the shape that is fashionable…” She tilted her head from side to side. “If I set your hair aright, madam, it might be passable.”
“I will take elegantly passable,” Edith said with a wry smile. “If it can be done quickly. More permanent alterations will have to wait.”
The pair of them got to work, and the tighter set of stays was uncomfortable enough that Edith’s nerves vanished in the face of them. The yellowed cream of the gown appeared almost intentional due to the pristine condition of the fabric, and the black dots scattered along it had lost none of their luster. Black lace overlay on the sleeves and bodice, draping elegantly down to tufts at the hem, added to the evening elegance that had attracted her to the gown in the first place.
She hadn’t known it would be her wedding gown. Black in her wedding gown should have warned her off the affair.
Not that she’d had any say in the matter.
“There’s not time enough to do what I would wish to your hair, madam,” Simms sighed as Edith sat before the looking glass. “I daren’t even attempt curls…”
“Just plait and pin what you can,” Edith insisted, smiling at her in the glass. “Plaits are always in fashion, no?”
Simms chuckled and undid the massive length of Edith’s dark hair, her fingers flying through the tendrils as she worked it into a simple, sturdy, somehow still elegant updo. It would hardly be worth commenting on in any Society gossip sheets, nor would it get her any envious looks from other ladies, but it wouldn’t scandalize any, either.
She would accept that gladly.
“The pearl combs, madam?” Simms asked with a satisfied exhale as she stepped back from her work.
Edith shook her head and rose quickly. “Not tonight. This will suffice.” She turned to take the gloves from Simms, wincing slightly as a muscle in her side clenched against the stays. “Just my cross, please.”
The delicate gold necklace was fastened around her neck, and Edith felt the weight of it pressing against her chest, comforting rather than weighing her down. She’d had it since she was twelve, and it was one