Viola's eyes widened and she slapped her fingers to her lips.
This odd reaction was not lost on Jenny. It was almost as if Lady Viola had erred and said something she shouldn't have. But Jenny couldn't think what that might have been.
Lady Letitia hugged her sister to her. "Now, now, Viola, you've done nothing wrong by simply admitting the joy we glean from observing love in blossom."
Lady Viola smiled meekly then and nodded her head. "Quite right."
Still, Jenny watched the old woman's countenance carefully. Something wasn't being said. Oh, how she wished she had the gumption to probe deeper. But she knew she had to remember her place.
She was a lady's maid in the household. Nothing more.
Jenny glanced down at the dress once more and smiled with delight.
Meredith gave her a little nudge. "Well, go on. Run and try it on. I am quite beside myself waiting to see how it will look upon you."
Jenny smiled so broadly that her cheeks actually smarted. With the gown hugged tightly to her chest, she dashed below stairs.
99
******************
Not a full day later, the opportunity to wear the midnight-blue evening gown presented itself. Lady Viola had extended an invitation to Lord Argyll to join her and her sister, Meredith and Lady Genevieve in their private box at the Theatre Royal.
While Jenny had certainly seen the theatre's imposing entrance on Beaufort Square, she never dreamed she would ever attend a performance there. Let alone in a gown that could have inspired an entire page of description in La Belle Assemblιe.
That night, their party entered the Feathertons' private box, one of only twenty-six, Jenny noted proudly, through a private home adjoining the theatre. A suite of retiring rooms, including a saloon, adjoined the private box to ensure the occupants complete and luxurious comfort.
In fine gentlemanly fashion, Lord Argyll assisted the two Featherton ladies to their seats. Within an instant, Lady Letitia's plump finger directed Meredith to sit between them, a measure no doubt intended to more easily monitor the untamed young lady's conduct.
Only then did Jenny realize that she and Callu m were to sit behind the others, quite out of sight of the Feathertons' watchful eyes.
Had this been any other eve, this situation would have suited Jenny quite nicely. But not tonight. Despite the fact that she was clothed in the most exquisite gown in Bath, Callum had hardly glanced at her.
It wasn't hard to discern why, after their emotional exchange at the abbey. Still, understanding his reason-
100
ing did nothing to make his inattention easier to bear. For now, when she craved his notice more than ever, he was all but ignoring her.
Ridiculous tears began to fill Jenny's eyes, and she turned away from the viscount, pretending to peer through the gilt lattices separating the Featherton box from the next. But when the play began, this ploy was no longer feasible, and she focused her blurred eyes on the cast-iron pillars at the edges of the box. Soon, her tears threatened to breach her lower lashes and she was all but forced to study the fancifully painted ceiling in order to maintain her dignity.
Bah! Why was she acting so foolishly? She should just wipe her eyes and concentrate on the stage play. After all, she'd never seen one before, and it would serve her well to imbibe a little culture, now wouldn't it?
And so, without looking away from the ceiling, she loosened the cinch of her reticule, and jammed her fingers inside for her handkerchief. Unfortunately, her new and therefore rather stiff kid gloves made her perception by touch virtually nonexistent and she was forced to peel down one glove and remove it completely to accomplish her aim.
Then he touched her.
Callum's own bared hand grasped hers and squeezed it reassuringly. Without thinking of the tears poised in her eyes, she tore her gaze from the ceiling and looked at him with astonishment.
With the downward momentum, two heavy droplets spilled over
This odd reaction was not lost on Jenny. It was almost as if Lady Viola had erred and said something she shouldn't have. But Jenny couldn't think what that might have been.
Lady Letitia hugged her sister to her. "Now, now, Viola, you've done nothing wrong by simply admitting the joy we glean from observing love in blossom."
Lady Viola smiled meekly then and nodded her head. "Quite right."
Still, Jenny watched the old woman's countenance carefully. Something wasn't being said. Oh, how she wished she had the gumption to probe deeper. But she knew she had to remember her place.
She was a lady's maid in the household. Nothing more.
Jenny glanced down at the dress once more and smiled with delight.
Meredith gave her a little nudge. "Well, go on. Run and try it on. I am quite beside myself waiting to see how it will look upon you."
Jenny smiled so broadly that her cheeks actually smarted. With the gown hugged tightly to her chest, she dashed below stairs.
99
******************
Not a full day later, the opportunity to wear the midnight-blue evening gown presented itself. Lady Viola had extended an invitation to Lord Argyll to join her and her sister, Meredith and Lady Genevieve in their private box at the Theatre Royal.
While Jenny had certainly seen the theatre's imposing entrance on Beaufort Square, she never dreamed she would ever attend a performance there. Let alone in a gown that could have inspired an entire page of description in La Belle Assemblιe.
That night, their party entered the Feathertons' private box, one of only twenty-six, Jenny noted proudly, through a private home adjoining the theatre. A suite of retiring rooms, including a saloon, adjoined the private box to ensure the occupants complete and luxurious comfort.
In fine gentlemanly fashion, Lord Argyll assisted the two Featherton ladies to their seats. Within an instant, Lady Letitia's plump finger directed Meredith to sit between them, a measure no doubt intended to more easily monitor the untamed young lady's conduct.
Only then did Jenny realize that she and Callu m were to sit behind the others, quite out of sight of the Feathertons' watchful eyes.
Had this been any other eve, this situation would have suited Jenny quite nicely. But not tonight. Despite the fact that she was clothed in the most exquisite gown in Bath, Callum had hardly glanced at her.
It wasn't hard to discern why, after their emotional exchange at the abbey. Still, understanding his reason-
100
ing did nothing to make his inattention easier to bear. For now, when she craved his notice more than ever, he was all but ignoring her.
Ridiculous tears began to fill Jenny's eyes, and she turned away from the viscount, pretending to peer through the gilt lattices separating the Featherton box from the next. But when the play began, this ploy was no longer feasible, and she focused her blurred eyes on the cast-iron pillars at the edges of the box. Soon, her tears threatened to breach her lower lashes and she was all but forced to study the fancifully painted ceiling in order to maintain her dignity.
Bah! Why was she acting so foolishly? She should just wipe her eyes and concentrate on the stage play. After all, she'd never seen one before, and it would serve her well to imbibe a little culture, now wouldn't it?
And so, without looking away from the ceiling, she loosened the cinch of her reticule, and jammed her fingers inside for her handkerchief. Unfortunately, her new and therefore rather stiff kid gloves made her perception by touch virtually nonexistent and she was forced to peel down one glove and remove it completely to accomplish her aim.
Then he touched her.
Callum's own bared hand grasped hers and squeezed it reassuringly. Without thinking of the tears poised in her eyes, she tore her gaze from the ceiling and looked at him with astonishment.
With the downward momentum, two heavy droplets spilled over
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