Chapter Thirty

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Chapter 30

One well-dealt blow settles the whole matter.

~ The Habits of Good Society: A Handbook for Ladies and Gentlemen (The Last London Editor; 1860)

“Good God, do you not have a shawl?”

Vicky scowled at Étienne darkly and deliberately hugged her arms over her very exposed bosom. It was not her fault that the modiste that had designed and tailored the garment had taken her measurements incorrectly. The man was simply odious pointing out the plunging, tight V of her neckline. “No,” she told him pertly.

“Étienne,” Adrienne Girard reprimanded her son cantankerously, “you are much to forward. Miss Colton could not help that the dress she had ordered specifically for this occasion would be a size too small.”

God, that was an understatement. For the most part, the dress fit adequately. It was unfortunate that it did not around her breasts. It was designed in a way that would be regarded risqué for even without the minuteness of the bodice the deep neckline left much bare skin exposed. Though Vicky was not overly endowed with womanly assets, she was bestowed with ample enough cleavage to be showy should she deem it so. The ensemble was crafted from aesthetic yellow mull, embroidered intricately and intermittently with silver tinselling that thickened extensively at the hem. The sleeves were gathered and pinched somewhat off the shoulder, pronouncing the curve and leaving most of the arm unadorned and some of the back. The waist was unusually high, the bodice coming to an abrupt end just under her breasts, cinched and sewn with a silver cord that was knotted slightly to one side and left to hang, embellished with little tassels. But it was the bodice that was most astounding and eye-catching, what with the deep V that angled down directly between the bosom and sewn exactly to where the cord joined the waist. So it was significant that the gown be made to the exact size of the person donning it and not a few sizes smaller.

Étienne smiled grimly. “How unlucky for Miss Colton then that the overwhelming demographic present at Arceneau’s party is male,” he said drolly. His words struck home with a clarity that only a quick surveillance of those present in the grand assembly hall could verify. Indeed, there appeared to be a disproportionate number of gentlemen bustling about in disjointed groups whereas there was merely one lonely bevy of girls huddling abashedly to one corner where the refreshments were spread out on a glistening table. Long arched baroque windows stretched towards the ceilings along the length of the hall, heavily draped with gold and cream curtaining, pulled back to reveal a starry sky and several small terraces romantically and atmospherically lit with lamps.

Given the disparate amount of men to women and the widely believed rumours that Arceneau’s self-declared bachelordom was merely a front for something altogether unmentionable, Vicky came to the conclusion that the majority of men present at the ball were for their host’s benefit and not for the entertainment of the ladies. Any aspirations to find a match here tonight for any lady were quickly set aside only moments after entering the hall, not that something like that was an issue for Victoria. Indeed, it would seem she had one more proposal than she would care to handle.

“I don’t see how that is unlucky,” Adrienne remarked, frowning at the room at large. Nobody was dancing despite the snippets of music being played as encouragement. “Where the devil is Arceneau? Strange that the host is missing from his own party.”

“Yes,” Étienne drawled, casting Vicky a shameless wink as he finished with, “missing.”

The implication was blazingly apparent from his caustic tone and she had to cup a hand over her lips to keep from smiling. Prior to the event, Étienne had blatantly divulged all the sordid scandals the Lord Arceneau had been a part of including a licentiousness affair with his valet and twice removed cousin, Pierre Dupont, before proceeding to regale her with an in-depth narrative regarding why Arceneau had inexplicably scampered onto one of the terraces with a leer on his face that could have shamed a prostitute.  Although amused, Vicky was also pleased that Étienne could still treat her as a friend after her rejection of his proposal a few days ago and revealing all the gossipy titbits was reminiscent of their relationship before he had proposed.

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