Princess of Glass - Jessica Day George [21]
“And so am I,” Ellen said.
They turned to look at her.
“I’m an eligible young lady,” she said louder. She thrust her chin out. “And you know that I wasn’t born a maid.”
Poppy gave a low whistle. She had to admire Ellen’s bravery. Sullenness was one thing, but coming right out with her grievance in front of her employer was quite another.
Lady Margaret, however, was not in the least bit nonplussed. She smiled at Ellen and gave a little nod.
“That is true, my dear,” she said. “And there is no reason why you should not attend the balls. We will have some gowns—”
“I don’t need your charity, thank you,” Ellen interrupted, her face turning red. “I’ll get my own gowns.”
Dropping her knitting, Poppy leveled her gaze at Ellen. “You could be a bit more gracious!”
“It’s all right, Poppy,” Lady Margaret said gently, handing Poppy her needles and snarl of yarn. “If you do change your mind, Ellen, please tell me. I would be happy to help you find some suitable gowns.” She smiled at the young woman.
“I don’t need charity,” Ellen repeated, her face cloudy.
Ellen stumped out and they could breathe again.
“You’d think she would be a little more grateful,” Poppy said. That was as gracious as she could manage.
Lady Margaret shook her head. “Poor child. Life has been hard for her.”
“It would be awful to go from having maids to being a maid,” Marianne agreed. Then she wrinkled her nose. “But I wish she wouldn’t snap at us. We’re not responsible for her father’s downfall!”
Poppy pursed her lips. “What if you had a ball gown made—supposedly for me—and we gave it to Ellen so it wouldn’t go to waste? Since I’m not going to the gala.”
“Yes, you are!” Marianne poked Poppy in the ribs.
“An interesting idea, though, Poppy,” said Lady Margaret. “I don’t know where she’ll get a gown otherwise. Perhaps I’ll have one of Marianne’s made over for her, so it doesn’t seem too overbearing.”
“Just don’t let Ellen help,” Poppy said. “It won’t do her any good if she sets it on fire trying to iron out a wrinkle.”
They heard a scratching sound at the door. “The dressmaker, ma’am,” said the butler, and they followed him to the sitting room where the fussy little man was waiting with his pattern books and measuring tapes.
“All three of us need gowns for the upcoming royal gala and the masquerade,” Lady Margaret told him. “Even Her Highness. That’s in addition to the gowns we ordered for Marianne’s birthday ball, of course.”
“Ah, a charming pair of young ladies,” the man said. “With such dark hair and fine figures, they could be sisters. And you, Lady Margaret—a third, only slightly older sister.” He bowed and kissed her hand.
Poppy snorted, but she did consent to look through the book of patterns. “Who knows? I might decide to attend,” she thought. “If only to keep Marianne and Dickon Thwaite out of the rose bowers.”
Goddaughter
Hardly able to believe her luck, Ellen slipped back up to the narrow bedroom she shared with one of the other maids. Lady Margaret had said that she could go to the royal gala! Her Ladyship had even offered to have gowns made for her, but Ellen had another plan.
This was her chance. The foreign prince would be there; she’d seen Prince Christian when he came to call on Marianne and Poppy, and he was very handsome, and kind. Moreover, he wouldn’t know about her family, about her past, and he could take her away from those who did know. Mrs. Hanks never let her wait on him, in case she spilled something on His Highness, and that was all for the good now. She wouldn’t want him to recognize her at the gala.
But Ellen would need to be dazzling to draw his eye away from all the other ladies. And that meant not just a gown that had been given to her out of charity, but jewels, fans, dancing slippers, and a costume for the masked ball that would stun all who saw her. The Seadowns, despite their kindness, were unlikely to do that much. They certainly wouldn’t set her up