Eugenia (A Lady's Maid Trilogy Novella) Rough Draft

Chapter Eight

"I hope he likes me."

"What is there not to like? You are as pretty as any young lady of society," Mary said with admirable loyalty. In the mirror's reflection, I saw her bit her lip as she worked at arranging my unruly locks into a Grecian style so prevalent in society.

"You mustn't lie to make me feel better." I heaved a sigh. "I mean, honestly. How am I supposed to know if he likes me?"

A harsh tug on my hair caused me to yelp in pain. Before I could chastise her or ask what was wrong, I heard her voice. "A lady's maid keeps her attention on her work, and avoids causing her mistress discomfort." Nelson's tone was neutral, and she moved into my view. "Turn back around, Mary, if you're going to continue. Otherwise, please release Miss Burnham's hair before you pull it from her head."

Mary's scowl shifted to an expression of shock. Nelson made a spinning motion with one finger, prompting Mary to carry on with her task. I could feel the maid's hands tremble as she did so.

Why did Nelson not take over?

Saying nothing for several long seconds, Nelson studied my hair and then nodded. "Well done, Mary. Perhaps we will make a lady's maid out of you yet. Good evening, Miss Burnham."

Dumbfounded, I stared at her reflection as she walked out. Mary breathed out. "What game is she playing?"

"I don't believe there is any game," I said slowly. "She said you are doing well."

Looking skeptical, Mary quickly finished assisting me. I suspected she intended on quizzing Nelson as soon as I walked out the door. Nonetheless, I frowned at my reflection in the mirror. "Mary, I don't think I like this dress."

The fabric was a pale blue with lace and bows on the sleeves. There was nothing particularly wrong with the gown, and I couldn't point out what I didn't like. If anything, the dress was too elegant. I wasn't wearing the dress; it was wearing me. My cloak went a long way to making me feel better, though.

"You look very well, miss." Mary waited by the door, her manner impatient.

Heaving a sigh, I nodded in acceptance. With my fan in hand and my reticule on my wrist, I left my room and made my way down to the hall. Mama was there, fussing at her skirt. "Eugenia, what took you so long?" she asked as I approached her.

"Sorry, Mama," I said apologetically. "You look well tonight."

"Come along, come along," Mama said, a note of impatience in her voice. "An entrance is only good when there are ones to impress when it happens. We don't want to arrive at the Springers after the eligible gentlemen have moved along to the next event."

I held in another sigh. "Yes, Mama."

****

When we arrived at the Springers' dancing had already begun. Right off, Mama and I took a turn around the room. I did not have the height to see over the heads of the guests as I tried to see who else was in attendance.

What I did see, however, made my heart sink all the way down to my slippers.

Mr. Landon was dancing with Miss Ramsey, and in all the times I had encountered, I'd never seen him laughing so much.

"Do you know that young woman?" Mama asked, leaning close to me.

"We were introduced some time ago, Mama," I said honestly. "Her name is Phoebe Ramsey, and she came from the country for the season."

The corners of Mama's lip turned down, and she shook her head. "She's pretty enough for a country girl, I suppose. I wonder what kind of a dowry she has that would make her more appealing to Landon."