The Book of Spells (Private 0.50)

“Here, Miss Eliza,” Helen said suddenly, lifting something off the dressing table. “Don’t forget these.”

In the palm of her hand were Eliza’s garnet earrings. Eliza smiled gratefully and fastened them in her earlobes.

“My mother always says that if I keep daydreaming, I’m going to miss out on my real life,” Eliza said with a laugh. “She says May didn’t get engaged by sitting around thinking.” She looked at her reflection wistfully, imagining May seated right in the very same place the year prior. Had she been excited to see George at the welcoming dance? Had they already had some kind of understanding then, or was it just a new flirtation like the one she’d thought she had with Harrison Knox?

Instantly, Eliza’s gaze flicked to Theresa, who was busy checking her hair.

Stop thinking about him, she reminded herself. Stop, stop, stop.

“You look beautiful, Eliza,” Catherine said, startling her.

“She’s right,” Helen added. “I’m sure your dance card will be fuller than anyone’s tonight.”

Eliza laughed under her breath. “You don’t have to humor me, you two,” she said, dropping her gold compact into her evening bag. “I know I’ll never be a true beauty like my sister.”

“May?” Catherine’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, you’re far more beautiful than May.”

Eliza was incredulous. “No one is more beautiful than May.”

Helen shook her head. “Miss Catherine is right.” She reached over and plucked a satin ribbon from the dressing table, running it through her fingers. “Your sister . . . Miss Williams’s beauty is expected,” she said, frowning thoughtfully. “Yours, Miss Eliza, is far more exotic . . . unique.”

The blush rose through Eliza’s chest, up her neck, and into her face. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if it could possibly be true. The shape of her eyes, their deep green color, her gleaming brown hair . . . she supposed these features were rather exotic next to May’s blue eyes and blond hair.

Eliza glanced at Helen again. She was gazing, her head tilted, at Alice and Viola in the reflection of the mirror as the two of them practiced waltz steps in the center of the floor. The silk ribbon still slipped through her fingers methodically, over and over again. Eliza was clearly not the only daydreamer in the room. Perhaps she had misread Helen from the beginning. Perhaps the maid wasn’t always staring at Eliza, but merely daydreaming.

“You should come along to the dance,” Eliza offered.

“Oh, yes! I’m sure one of the girls has a dress you could borrow,”

Catherine agreed enthusiastically.

Helen’s tilted head snapped upright, and she blinked down at the ribbon in her hands. “Oh, no.” She quickly replaced the ribbon and stood, smoothing the front of her plain gray skirt. “Thank you, but the headmistress would never allow it.”

“Perhaps there’s a way we could convince her,” Eliza said pointedly, looking at Catherine.

Catherine smiled, immediately understanding Eliza’s meaning.

“No,” Helen said again, more firmly this time. Eliza could have sworn the maid glanced at her necklace once again. “No, thank you, Miss Williams. Please don’t.”

Eliza’s face fell as she looked at Helen. “But you don’t understand. We may be able to—”

“No,” Helen snapped, taking a step back.

Stunned, Eliza was about to ask her what was wrong, but at that moment the headmistress walked into the room, her evening dress of old-fashioned black crepe nearly filling the doorway. Alice slammed her book shut and shoved it under her seat, perching on top of it. The room became so suddenly and deathly silent, Eliza was certain the headmistress was going to suspect something.

Quickly she stepped forward and threw her arms wide to block the view of the parlor. “Good evening, Headmistress Almay!” she said gaily. “My, how lovely you look.”

Miss Almay glared down her nose at Eliza’s sapphire blue dress. “As do you, Miss Williams.” Eliza could tell it pained her to say the words.

Eliza reached for Helen’s hand, intending to ask the headmistress if the girl could come along to the dance, but her fingers caught only air. When she glanced around, Helen was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, ladies,” Miss Almay said, lifting her chin to look past Eliza’s shoulders. “Shall we?”

Alice clapped gleefully. Eliza looked at Catherine, a sizzle of anticipation rushing right through her, pushing all thoughts of Helen out of her mind. The men of Easton Academy awaited!

Compliments

The dance was held in the solarium of Mitchell Hall on the Easton Academy campus. The mar