Romance Novel (Untitled)

Prologue

         “Elizabeth,” she said again, gently, as though talking to a simpleton. “Are you sure you are up to the task of dressing me for tonight?”

         “Of course, Miss,” answered the homely girl, coming back from her own fantasy of love, marriage, life with a gentleman… “I let my mind wander; I’m sorry. What do you need of me, Miss?”

         “The combs, Elizabeth. Richard will hardly be able to think of a future with me if I arrive with my hair looking as though I had been dragged by it from one end of Southampton to the other.”

         Despite the mild censure, both girls giggled. Susannah Claverly was clearly in charge and in control of the staff that tended to her, but she was also compassionate toward them. Why, it was not long ago that she and Elizabeth were bosom friends, the two swearing to never keep secrets from one another, to remain solid partners for all eternity. As she had approached the days of her young adulthood, then those of her majority, Susannah was troubled and confused by the lines that had to be drawn between herself and the staff—Elizabeth particularly. But society ruled out in the end, as it always does, and she was now clearly a Lady, and Elizabeth clearly a servant.

         But both were still girls, and as such apt to fits of giggling over such things as the thought of how one’s hair would look if dragged through town, or the prospect of marriage…or even the way a dust mote twirled in the sun. For Susannah (and Elizabeth, for that matter) was a happy person, full of joy and optimism, and as ready to share out such feelings as to receive them. So why not giggle? And why not tonight, of all nights?

         Elizabeth brought herself under control first, though the exaggerated decorum she put on afterward sent them both reeling again.

         Recovering with hitching breaths akin to both sobs and hysterics, the two young women set about getting the one young Lady prepared for the evening. Elizabeth brushed and re-brushed Susannah’s long black hair, pulled it tightly about her forehead and temples, and placed the small combs to pin it in place. Then, with infinite care, she wound her mistress’s hair about a hot, moist iron; and removing the iron soon after left Susannah’s hair in long, tight curls down her slender back and shoulders.

         Susannah opted not to powder her already fair skin, and instead turned to her wardrobe with relish. She and Elizabeth occupied a full two hours rejecting gown after gown, revisiting shoe after shoe, while, in the midst of it all, bringing each other up to speed on the latest news of the household servants (from Elizabeth) and the new dirt about the local upper crust (from Susannah).

         Susannah finally found the gown that was perfect, with shoes to match: a white bodice with a modest and understated skirt of lightest crystal blue. The outfit made her look and feel older and wiser than she was, and that was just fine with Susannah this night!

         “Oh, Elizabeth,” sighed Susannah. “It won’t work.”

         “Why not, Miss?” Elizabeth asked with some dismay. Although she had known it was possible, she was actually growing weary of gossip and clothes for the time being.

         “Just look at the front!” Susannah complained. “This was clearly bought with the assumption that I would be able to fill it out more fully than your fourteen-year-old sister!”

         Elizabeth hid a grin behind her hand as she tried to put on a serious face. She was familiar with this line of conversation. They had both been excited when they began to “blossom,” but Susannah’s garden seemed lack some important fertilizer. Now, at 21, though not as voluptuous as much of her competition, she was no less lovely. Elizabeth said as much, bringing her pouting childhood playmate back to reality.

         “Besides,” Elizabeth continued, “Rupert has already seen you in every other dress ever created. I should know; I’m the one who’s tied you up in them! It’s not like you’re meeting him for the first time.”

         Susannah Claverly considered the girl’s reassurance, and gave in to the compliments.