‘Especially considering the fact that my brother, for some mysterious reason, is the most eligible bachelor in the entire British Empire and there are droves of unmarried young women hunting him wherever he appears.’
‘Yes.’
‘It probably won’t be long before one of them gets their claws into him, and she’ll give him compliments, and money, and will do anything in her power to-”
‘Adaira?’
‘Yes?’
‘Shut up and get the next dress!’
‘Yes, Ma’am!’
We continued to rifle through racks of ready-made dresses, balls of cloth and other finery. It felt extremely strange. All my life I had been on the outside looking in, wondering why other girls put so much effort into dressing up and looking pretty. Now I was on a desperate quest to do exactly the same. And why? To catch the attention of a man, in the hope that he might perhaps maybe perchance possibly if I was very, very lucky dance with me.
How the mighty have fallen.
Fallen indeed.
Fallen in love.
It was a terrifying feeling, and even more terrifying was to acknowledge it. I wanted - no, needed - Mr Rikkard Ambrose. Needed him with a bone-deep intensity that surpassed even my love for solid chocolate. But I had rejected him. He was not the sort of man to take that lightly. What if, with him, it was everything or nothing? What if, now that I had refused his offer, he no longer wanted me? It was a scary thought. But even scarier: what if he still did?
What if he asked me to dance tonight? What would I tell him? What could I possibly say? Hello there! I’m sorry I don’t want to marry you, but would you like to just live in sin with me instead, because I’m head-over-heels in love with you, you stone-faced son of a bachelor?
Already tried that. It hadn’t worked out so well.
So…what else could I say?
Baby steps, Lilly. Baby steps. After turning a man down like a ton of bricks, he most likely isn’t inclined towards a passionate affair. First get him to dance with you. That is, if you can get him to unclench his teeth. Then worry about what to say to him.
All right.
Get him to dance with me. Get him to dance with me. Get him to dance with me. The words repeated over and over in my head, but I still had no clue how to do it.
I needed to attract his attention somehow. I needed just the right dress, the right make-up, and, most of all, the right style. I needed to become so stunningly beautiful that he couldn’t possibly resist me. But…how?
You need help organising a demonstration for women’s rights? I’m your girl! You need someone for a bit of target shooting? Great, I’m in! But dressing up? As a female?
Where did you even begin?
‘Adaira, please!’
Desperately, I stared at the endless racks of clothes stretching in front of me. ‘What am I supposed to do? What could I possibly wear that would attract his attention?’
‘Well…’ Turning in a circle, she gave the clothes all around a thoughtful look. ‘You could always ask the tailor if he could stitch you a dress made from five-pound notes.’
‘Adaira! This is serious!’
‘I know. And I know my brother. If you want him to be unable to take his eyes from you, and to tear your dress off the moment the two of you are alone, that’s the way to go.’
‘I want him to tear my dress off because he wants me, not because he wants the dress!’
‘Oh.’ She clucked her tongue. ‘Well, that’s a little more tricky.’
‘Serious suggestions. Please.’
There must have been something in my tone. Or maybe Adaira just knew exactly how I felt about her brother, because she instantly stopped teasing and started searching. She hadn’t been joking when she said her mother had given her carte blanche. Without hesitation, she went through the most expensive dresses in the shop, everything from the latest London creations to rare and insanely expensive imports from Paris. Apparently, Lady Samantha had a quite definite preference as to which among her lady guests she would like to see as her daughter-in-law. Poor dear. I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had turned him down already. Oh, and there was the little fact that I really, really didn’t have enough money to pay for a ball gown, myself.