Page 35 of When She Loved Me
It was beginning to make sense to Nicole. “Do not fret, Lorelei. ‘Tis just the earl and me to dine. The muslins will be fine.”
“I have never seen muslin at a dinner, milady. At least we have these two.”
Nicole shrugged and rinsed her face in the basin Lorelei had brought up. She dabbed the towel against her skin and then allowed the maid to help her remove the cotton gown, hardly able to not recognize the young woman’s excitement.
“It’s my first time dressing a lady,” Lorelei confided and slid the chosen blue silk over Nicole’s head and arms. It fell down to the floor, and Nicole glanced down at the buttons at her chest. Lorelei had already moved over to the dressing table, pulling pins and brushes and combs from the drawer.
“We should—” Nicole began.
“We must hurry, milady. We have less than an hour and I’ve never actually fixed a proper lady’s hair—I’ve only ever practiced on my sisters.”
“Lorelei,” Nicole called her attention. “We have plenty of time.” And she giggled a bit here, “We even have enough time to dress me properly.” She held out her arms to show that the gown was on backwards.
Lorelei’s pretty eyes widened. “Egads.”
They laughed together then and Lorelei did settle down. The gown was righted, and the buttons closed appropriately at her back and then Nicole sat down upon the stool in front of the mirror at her dressing table.
Lorelei began to unbraid and brush out Nicole’s long hair.
“When I lived in London, my maid was Amelia. She worked my hair every day,” Nicole said, “but it didn’t always conform to her intentions. Ofttimes, she’d spend thirty minutes on a certain style only to have us both decide that it was unbecoming, or unlikely to hold, or just outright awful, and she’d end up just whipping it into a neat chignon—or as neat as my hair would allow—and that would be that.”
“Oh, but I’ve wanted to get my hands on your hair since first I saw it,” Lorelei promised her. “I have many ideas.”
“But only one at a time, I hope.” Nicole made a face at her friend in the mirror.
Lorelei giggled. “Yes, miss—ugh, I mean milady.”
“Is that also a directive from the earl? The ‘my lady’ bit?”
“It is. He came to the kitchen and scolded all of us—” she caught Nicole’s frown in the mirror and was quick to make clear, “not at all mean-like, milady, just reminded us of our roles. I’ll admit, I was rather afraid of him when he came, but I think hejust pretends at the lordly stuff mostly, but is really nice, as you are.”
While they might be friendly, Nicole hadn’t any intention of discussing her marriage, or lack thereof, with the girl. It was her own humiliation and she’d prefer to keep it that way. Likewise, she imagined that Lorelei now guessed it wasn’t her place to inquire where her ladyship’s husband had been for the past year.
At ten minutes before seven, Nicole walked into the drawing room, where she assumed she was to meet the earl before dinner.
Her husband awaited her, lounging in the blue damask side chair, not the lord’s ornate arm chair. He stood when she entered and offered a respectable bow. Nicole managed to sketch a brief curtsy without causing damage to her precarious coiffure.
Franklin approached them, his bent form only reaching to the earl’s chest. He offered up a tray with two glasses on it, first to Nicole, who carefully chose one and waited for the earl to take the other. Trevor then stepped to the side and swung his arm to indicate that Nicole should sit. She did so, moving carefully as to not upset her hair.
“Is there something wrong with your neck? You seem to be... stiff,” he said, and she could just sense his concerned frown.
Nicole moved her eyes, though barely her head, around the room, and saw that Franklin was still the only other person present, his hands tucked behind his back, which seemed to straighten him a bit.
“This is Lorelei’s first attempt to manage my hair. It’s not going to hold, I fear. And it’s not her fault—Amelia had worked with it for years and struggled so often she had taken to calling it rather unladylike names.” She glanced down her nose at her drink, forgoing actually lowering her head lest the entire mass ofit fall forward. “I’m hoping it makes it through dinner, until she attends me later. I don’t want her to consider her first endeavor a failure.”
“It has some—er—great height. Is there something... in there?” He’d moved closer to inspect it. He lifted his hand.
“Don’t touch it.” She jerked away, though managed to tilt her head not at all. “It might topple.”
She heard Trevor chuckle and saw him sit down across from her, in the chair he’d employed only moments ago.
There was some silence then, not uncomfortable.
“What had you—”
“What brought you—”
They’d spoken at once, and Nicole melted back into her chair, biting her bottom lip until he tipped his head, allowing that she should proceed. “What brought you into the village today?”
