Silver in the Blood by Jessica Day George Page B

get her nowhere. “There is a young nobleman from England visiting Bucharest. He and I . . . became very close when I was in London,” Dacia said, which was true. It made her blush, however, which just added to her story. “I would like to find out where he is staying, so that I can send him a message.”
    â€œWhy can you not ask Mr. Horia?” The maid’s eyes were suspicious. “He surely knows everyone in Bucharest. And if he does not know, then he can easily find out, young miss.”
    â€œWell,” Dacia said, leaning toward the maid in a confidential manner. “My family doesn’t exactly approve of—” She stopped, seeing Nadia’s face close off.
    â€œIf your family does not approve, it is not my place to interfere,” Nadia said.
    â€œBut surely there’s no harm—”
    â€œLady Ioana would not approve,” Nadia said, and would not say another word. She finished arranging Dacia’s hair, gathered up her used nightclothes, and left the room.
    â€œLady Ioana,” Dacia muttered, making it sound like a curse.
    But she didn’t have time to grumble any further about her grandmother. Aunt Kate fetched Dacia, hustling her down the stairs, along with Lou. They ate a hasty breakfast and went backup to Dacia’s room. The seamstress was already laying out two nearly finished Romanian costumes. They were thickly embroidered in what Aunt Kate told them was the traditional pattern for their family. They had been begun in advance, and now would only require a bit of alteration to make them ready.
    â€œAre we supposed to wear them tonight at the dinner?” Lou touched the fine linen with a finger.
    â€œIf they can be finished in time,” Aunt Kate said. “And there will be a special party at the family estate as well.”
    The seamstress, who until this moment had not said a word, crossed herself and whispered something in a hoarse voice. Aunt Kate gave her a look, which the old woman met with defiance that made Dacia admire her for more than just her skill with a needle.
    And the woman’s needlework was very skilled indeed. Though she preferred modern fashions, Dacia had to admire the intricacy of the silk embroidery on the smooth linen. The fabric was white, with scarlet embroidery in ranks around the neckline and down the wide sleeves. Aunt Kate helped them out of their dresses—which made Dacia grumble that they could have eaten breakfast in their rooms and avoided some of the dressing and undressing—and into the costumes.
    The traditional Romanian costume consisted of a long, pale gown decorated with brightly colored embroidery and gathered at the neck with a drawstring. Over it went a heavy dark-colored apron in the front and back, and a wide sash holding it all together. Though Dacia had seen a rainbow of colors on other women, she and Lou were now dressed alike in white and scarlet. Thesashes, aprons, and embroidery were so red they almost hurt the eyes, and made the white stand out just as starkly.
    â€œI always thought I looked better in lighter colors,” Lou ventured hesitantly as she took her turn in front of the long mirror.
    â€œGreen would suit you. Or blue,” the elderly seamstress said, nodding in agreement. Then her eyes squinted at Aunt Kate, whose mouth was decidedly pinched. “But red was ordered.”
    She fiddled with Lou’s gown and pronounced it a good fit, though the hem needed to be taken up just a hair. Dacia’s costume needed a bit more work. It was too short, and though the neck and cuffs had a drawstring that should have allowed it to fit almost anyone, Dacia was so slim that there was simply too much fabric bunched around her neck and middle, making her look bulky and feel as though she was being drowned in her own clothes.
    â€œYour cousin is shaped like a proper woman,” the seamstress said as she marked the seams of Dacia’s shift with sharp steel pins.