herself. She blushed, she fidgeted, she rambled, and she even kissed . She just wasn’t herself.
She lost control.
Control of the situation, control of her emotions, even control of her very body seemed to vanish while in Duncan’s presence. And at such a crucial time in her life, she could hardly tolerate lapses in character or judgment. She needed to settle upon a husband—soon, while the choice was still hers to make. Every Season that she remained unmarried forced her toward a moment when she would no longer have choices available to her. Her beauty would one day fade and she would no longer be the master of her own fate with the world as her oyster and every man an option. Every Season that she remained unmarried brought her a bit closer to losing control and her future would no longer be hers to influence.
The Earl of Bristol was an unwarranted complication and a wholly unwelcome distraction.
And of all the evenings to be distracted—this was certainly not one of them. Ambrosia knew the motives behind tonight’s ball all too well. She had seen the guest list, a flagrant display of influential parental match-making. All of London’s finest bachelors would be in attendance. Lord and Lady Tisdale couldn’t have been more obvious than if they had placed her upon a silver platter and presented her at dinner to a room full of men.
Her fourth Season.
And there could not be a fifth.
A knock at the door startled her back to the task at hand.
“Oh, Lilly,” Ambrosia breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
“Of course it’s me. Who else would it have been?”
“Mama,” Ambrosia answered bluntly. “Rose maybe?”
“Or worse, Tamsin.” Lilly settled into the chaise facing the vanity. “You’re lucky she’s not yet old enough to attend. I fully expect the girl will shock us all and make her debut in a pair of breeches.” She hesitated before continuing on. “Is everything all right? You seem nervous.”
Ambrosia balked, dismissing the accusation with the back of her hand. “Don’t be absurd. I am certainly not nervous . After all, I never get nervous.” She bit her lip. “But it is incredibly warm. I dare say I am absolutely wilting from this heat. A lady never wilts . . . or perspires for that matter. Good gracious, why is it so warm in here? Is the fireplace lit?”
Lilly eyed her suspiciously. “It’s nothing but embers. And I do not feel warm.”
“If it gets any warmer, I’ll simply have to make my appearance clad only in my chemise and nothing else,” her voice had escalated and was bordering upon shrill.
Lilly picked up a fan from a nearby table and worked on creating a breeze. “Now, now, there’s no need for such rash behavior . . . or state of undress. Ambrosia, are you certain that you are not unwell? Your face is quite flushed. Perhaps it is your choice in gown? It does cover you quite completely from neck to ankles. And what is that fabric—wool? Or perhaps it is burlap?”
“I would appreciate it if you could please stop harassing me regarding my choice in gowns. I looked like a common Cyprian in the last one you chose for me. This is a proper gown, with a proper cut. All questionable parts are properly contained.”
“Properly hideous. What is that color? Baby excrement? Is that what is popular on the continent right now?”
Ambrosia looked down at what she had regarded as dark mint colored sleeves. “What is wrong with the color? It’s a lovely shade of green.”
“Lovely? Your gown looks seasick. Now heed my warning—that color will most certainly repel men. Is that what you want? To actually repel men?”
“Of course not. I want nothing more than to find a suitable husband, tonight if at all possible. What else would you have me wear?”
Lilly made her way into the closet and came out with an ivory gown with gold trim about the skirt and bodice. “This gown is divine! You absolutely must wear this one. I’d change into it myself if I
She lost control.
Control of the situation, control of her emotions, even control of her very body seemed to vanish while in Duncan’s presence. And at such a crucial time in her life, she could hardly tolerate lapses in character or judgment. She needed to settle upon a husband—soon, while the choice was still hers to make. Every Season that she remained unmarried forced her toward a moment when she would no longer have choices available to her. Her beauty would one day fade and she would no longer be the master of her own fate with the world as her oyster and every man an option. Every Season that she remained unmarried brought her a bit closer to losing control and her future would no longer be hers to influence.
The Earl of Bristol was an unwarranted complication and a wholly unwelcome distraction.
And of all the evenings to be distracted—this was certainly not one of them. Ambrosia knew the motives behind tonight’s ball all too well. She had seen the guest list, a flagrant display of influential parental match-making. All of London’s finest bachelors would be in attendance. Lord and Lady Tisdale couldn’t have been more obvious than if they had placed her upon a silver platter and presented her at dinner to a room full of men.
Her fourth Season.
And there could not be a fifth.
A knock at the door startled her back to the task at hand.
“Oh, Lilly,” Ambrosia breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
“Of course it’s me. Who else would it have been?”
“Mama,” Ambrosia answered bluntly. “Rose maybe?”
“Or worse, Tamsin.” Lilly settled into the chaise facing the vanity. “You’re lucky she’s not yet old enough to attend. I fully expect the girl will shock us all and make her debut in a pair of breeches.” She hesitated before continuing on. “Is everything all right? You seem nervous.”
Ambrosia balked, dismissing the accusation with the back of her hand. “Don’t be absurd. I am certainly not nervous . After all, I never get nervous.” She bit her lip. “But it is incredibly warm. I dare say I am absolutely wilting from this heat. A lady never wilts . . . or perspires for that matter. Good gracious, why is it so warm in here? Is the fireplace lit?”
Lilly eyed her suspiciously. “It’s nothing but embers. And I do not feel warm.”
“If it gets any warmer, I’ll simply have to make my appearance clad only in my chemise and nothing else,” her voice had escalated and was bordering upon shrill.
Lilly picked up a fan from a nearby table and worked on creating a breeze. “Now, now, there’s no need for such rash behavior . . . or state of undress. Ambrosia, are you certain that you are not unwell? Your face is quite flushed. Perhaps it is your choice in gown? It does cover you quite completely from neck to ankles. And what is that fabric—wool? Or perhaps it is burlap?”
“I would appreciate it if you could please stop harassing me regarding my choice in gowns. I looked like a common Cyprian in the last one you chose for me. This is a proper gown, with a proper cut. All questionable parts are properly contained.”
“Properly hideous. What is that color? Baby excrement? Is that what is popular on the continent right now?”
Ambrosia looked down at what she had regarded as dark mint colored sleeves. “What is wrong with the color? It’s a lovely shade of green.”
“Lovely? Your gown looks seasick. Now heed my warning—that color will most certainly repel men. Is that what you want? To actually repel men?”
“Of course not. I want nothing more than to find a suitable husband, tonight if at all possible. What else would you have me wear?”
Lilly made her way into the closet and came out with an ivory gown with gold trim about the skirt and bodice. “This gown is divine! You absolutely must wear this one. I’d change into it myself if I
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