The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Chapter 22: Stolen Decisions and Sulking Brothers

It turned out that being asked for favours and being set upon by eager social climbers at every meal were to be the least of my worries. That very same grey-haired maid from that morning had showed up again that afternoon to oversee my preparation for the ball. Brenna was all forced smiles while Elspeth shrank into corners and darted around the suite like a frightened little mouse.

The grey-haired maid, whose name, I soon discovered, was Millie, had disdainfully rejected each of the three outfits Brenna had laid out for me. She'd turned her nose up as she perused my wardrobe, making it seem as if the dresses Andrew had commissioned from the best dressmaker in Paris were the work of amateurs.

"Her Majesty will doubtlessly request some additions to fill out such an inadequate wardrobe, but I suppose this will have to do for now," Millie said, her curled upper lip never once relaxing into a pleasant expression as she laid out a sapphire brocade gown. Brenna, clearly having heard the palace gossip about me, had been planning to dress me in a gown of such pale silver that looked it almost white. I knew she was doing her best to make me look regal and bridal at the same time, but clearly the queen had other plans by sending her maid down to inspect my wardrobe.

"Dress her in this and do her hair in a pile of curls. A string of pearls and something simple for her ears, but nothing more than that," Millie said, before she took her leave.

"And who exactly is she to be telling me how to dress?" I demanded, as a shaky Elspeth laced my corset while Brenna got to choosing the jewels.

"She's one of the queen's ladies' maids," Brenna said, as if that should answer the question.

"Well I don't care what this Millie character thinks, I'm wearing the silver dress," I said defiantly. Brenna shook her head, fixing me with a look as she sighed.

"While I would very much enjoy thumbing my nose at Millie as well, if you turn up in anything other than what the queen has requested, Elspeth and I will be sacked," Brenna said. Her words hit me like a slap.

"So now I can't even choose my own clothes?" I asked, looking over at the sapphire dress.

"If I may be frank, my lady?" Brenna asked. I looked over to her in surprise.

"You may always be frank, Brenna. And please, call me Libby," I said, wondering why she was suddenly twisting her apron around and addressing me so formally. Elspeth's tiny hands were still shaking as she tied off my laces.

"The rumours say that you're now Prince Andrew's favourite," Brenna said, holding up a hand to still my tongue when I opened my mouth, "It's to be expected that Her Majesty will be taking a much more active interest in your appearance, demeanour, and reputation if that is indeed true."

"But Brenna," I said, "We're not even engaged!"

"I know, my lady," she said. The hint of sadness in her eyes as she held the sapphire gown up to me ripped open that pit of terror in my stomach.

"Do you mean to say that this will only get worse?" I asked, looking down at the dress that I'd laughed at when I'd tried it on in Paris. It was beautiful and elaborate and seemed like it should be on display in a museum rather than draped over my impetuous shoulders. I could see why Millie had chosen it, for it was very much fit for a queen.

"I mean to say that Her Majesty will do everything in her power to ensure that whomever Prince Andrew chooses will be the perfect image of the ideal court lady. Refined and beautiful with exquisite taste, polished manners, and ladylike deference," Brenna said, handing the dress to Elspeth while she steered me towards the vanity table to start setting my hair.

I swallowed as I looked at myself in the mirror. While the dress and the jewels would do something to make me appear beautiful and tasteful, the ladylike deference was the one trait I knew I would never be able to gain unless the queen planned on sewing my mouth shut. It had taken nearly all of my willpower this morning to face her and maintain my composure, but I'd still let slip a few too many harsh words.