White Swans A Regency World

Chapter 4

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Kendíka held on to the mahogany bedpost while Cordova fussed with the strings and stays of the corset.

“Ow!”

“Hold still, milady.” The abigail tugged the strings again. “Almost done.”

“You know, if I could just have the clothes I wore when I came, I could wear my bra instead of this stupid thing.” She took a deep breath. “This is ridiculous. It covers my whole stomach. I don’t even think my grandmother wore something like this.” She wiggled away.

The woman dragged her back to the bedpost with the strings. “A lady of your standing must look perfect during such social events as a ball.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You will learn. We all do.”

The abigail helped her into a white silk dress trimmed with gold and made sure the bowholding her cascading curls was perfect. The silver candelabra with five burning candles on the dresser cast shadows on the tall mirror, which reflected an image Kendíka didn’t recognize. She pulled at the low neckline, uncomfortable with how much it revealed.

The woman smoothed the gown into place. “Now, now, let’s not wrinkle the dress.”

The puffy sleeves reminded her of the designer clothes her mother put on her as a child. The girl in the mirror couldn’t be her. She looked like one of those Barbie dolls in costume—the collectible kind she kept in the box to retain their value. Finding it hard to fill her lungs, she brought her hands to her chest.

Someone knocked at the door. Her heart fluttered at the expectation Duke Deverow would accompany her. Although she still schemed to run away, she liked her guardian, who treated her with respectful kindness. Maybe she could convince him to go with her. If she took the time to figure out why the small community behaved so strangely in the twenty-first century, she might have a better chance to escape.

“Come in,” Cordova said.

The door swung open, and the duke stood at the threshold. A smile brightened his features.

“Are you ready?”

From his hand swung a small gold chain. Even the dim candlelight struck the teardropdiamond, sparking a small rainbow. He let the abigail fasten the jewel around Kendíka’s neck. “Every young girl should wear something special.”

As she fingered the brilliant gem resting on her bare skin, heat rose to her ears What is he trying to tell me with this gift? Marriage popped into her head. The word had her inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly to keep her wits about her.

He offered his arm. She took it, and he guided her out into the hallway and down the staircase.

In the grand hall, women wearing colorful gowns entered on the arms of their escorts, who sported navy blue or black tailed coats with baggy, old-fashioned trousers. Chatter filled the room.

A sense of familiarity settled over her. As an ambassador’s daughter, large formal parties had been a way of life for her. Her shoulders relaxed, but tensed once again when Charles directed her to the ballroom.

Her gaze moved up to the arched cathedral ceiling, and over to a full orchestra positioned in an alcove opposite a wall lined with french doors. The gold variegated white marble floor sparkled from the many Strauss chandeliers filled with lit candles. Men twirled their ladies around the dance floor. Whiffs of various perfumes swirled through the room, filling Kendíka’s nostrils with the various fragrances.