Page 34 of The Trouble with Anna

Josephine’s hand tightened sympathetically on Anna’s sleeve. “Many young women feel just the same, my lady.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “She doesnotwant to look invisible. She wants to look fast.”

Ivy launched to her feet with a scandalized cry. “Lady Charlotte!”

“Not fast, as in fast with gentlemen, although I notice she keeps sneaking off with my brother. I meant fast, as in speed. She’s a dream on a horse, Josephine. So light and quick, such style! Anna must always look as dashing as she does when she rides.”

Josephine considered, then gave a brisk nod. “Yes. I see it.”

“I don’t!” cried Anna.

“No lace, I think,” said Josephine. “Pleats, but not a single flounce. Perhaps the odd ribbon, but never a bow. Shako hats, braids, buttons, a plume or two, as many capes and pelisses as I can make. Military precision in every cut and detail. I see it most clearly! We must have a look at my fabrics.”

She disappeared through the door again, leaving Anna to confront the awful glare of her reflection.

Charlotte caught Anna’s expression and her smirk fell away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Braids, buttons, capes? Charlotte, do I look that much a man?” Tears crawled up Anna’s throat and she shrugged. “Never mind. Do your worst.”

“What are you on about?”

Anna shook her head, trying to shake the tears away. “You dressed me not long ago, remember? Your country dance at Mayne.”

“What, that? I only had a moment to snatch up a gown for you, and I chose the wrong one. With therightwardrobe, you’ll—”

Anna shut her eyes tightly. “It’s not the wardrobe. It’s me.”

“Oh,enough!” Charlotte grabbed Anna by the shoulders. “Look at yourself. What do you see?”

“I see myself! Standing next to a horrible bully.”

“Look at your face.”

“I know my own face!”

Pointy. Plain. A forgettable face. The mirror said such mean things to her.Do you really think a man like Julian could care for a woman like you?

Charlotte shook Anna, hard enough that her teeth clicked. “It’s clear that you don’t. Look! Find your best features andlikethem. Look at your eyebrows, for instance.”

“Ha! Even you must admit my eyebrows are strange.”

“Yes! Wonderfully dramatic and unusual. I’m desperately jealous of them. You mustn’t pick apart your face, Anna. You mustadoreit.”

Josephine returned, followed by two assistants carrying bolt after bolt of fabric. They laid their bundles down only to march back for fresh armfuls, filling the room until Anna began to wonder if they planned to dress her or to smother her under the teetering piles. There were watered silks, billowing cottons, and muslins shot through with gold and silver. One length of green velvet beckoned lush and deep, soft as the muzzle of a newborn foal beneath Anna’s furtive finger.

“Ooo, yes!” Charlotte snatched the velvet up. “Perfect!”

Anna closed her eyes and swallowed hard, yearning for her grotty old trunk with the slightly dingy fabrics from the village, the dresses a bit too big or a bit too small, the practical buttons and the rare halfhearted flounce. Her clothes waved the white flag at the world. They announced: NO NEED TO LOOK ANY CLOSER. THANK YOU AND GOOD DAY!

Charlotte, waist-deep in samples now, conferred happily with Josephine, examining feathers and snatching up frogging. They got into a rhythm, cooing over certain bolts, casting others aside, and holding length after length of fabric up against Anna until she began to feel like a wall in need of papering. When they began to debate the merits of what looked to Anna like two identical black buttons, she reached her limit.

“Charlotte!If I see another scrap of fabric, or measuring tape, or, god help me, even the tiniest pin, I will—”

“Pish! We’ve only just begun.” Charlotte stretched, catlike and pleased. “How long have we been here, Ivy?”

---