Late that night, I hear footsteps. I wake with a start, my heart thudding in my chest. I look up and see Curtis, tip-toeing between our cots. I look up, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. "Curtis," I call out, "is that you?" He looks up from his position between Lily and Mama's cots, and nods. He smiles and puts a finger to his lips, shushing me. He gently turns a heavy breathing Mama over and examines her.
Then he tiptoes back over and leans down next to me. "Papa sent me here to check on your mother. Sorry for waking you," he whispers, smiling gently. After that, I fall asleep.
The next morning, I wake up. I grope around blindly to get a feeling of my surroundings, and I feel a piece of paper next to my cot. I pick it up, read it and blush. It's a letter from Curtis that says:
Rosalie-
You look pretty when you sleep.
-Curtis
I'm so caught up in the letter that I don't even realize that Lily is up and reading over my shoulder. She sees me blushing and teases, "Ooooh, Rosalie has an admirer." She dances around the shop, chanting, "Rosalie has a suitor, Rosalie has a suitor." Eventually, she wakes up my mother, who turns over with a groan.
I rush over. "Lily, you cretin, shush," I scold. "Mama, are you okay?" I ask worriedly.
She smiles. "I'm fine," she says, kissing me on the top of the head. "Now, what is this about you having a suitor?" she asks, smirking.
"Oh, it's nothing. Just this," I say, handing over the letter.
She reads it, smiling. "Oh, how cute! My daughter has an admirer! I've waited for so long for this," she gushes, coughing a little bit.
After her coughs, I eye her skeptically. "Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.
"Yes," she says, coughing, "I-I'm fine."
"Well, either way, I have to go to work. Be careful," I say, practically reversing the roles of mother and daughter with my scolding.
I go to work. Alexander is waiting outside his family's mansion. He smiles when he sees me approaching. My heart leaps in my chest. Curtis or no Curtis, Alexander knows how to play with my heart.
He ushers me in. "The dressmaker's started the dress. She wants you to come for a fitting. Come with me," he says.
"My, Alexander, I'm not even inside yet. My house burned down last night. My life is in tatters. One thing at a time, please," I complain.
"Your house burned down? Sorry," he says shrugging indifferently. At this point, I feel he could really use a good punch to his well-defined jaw. But I know that one more outburst will have me fired. So I just stew silently, as we walk down the hall and through the dress fitting.
The next week passes in a blur. Curtis and I begin to sit by the brook in the evenings, chatting. He always compliments me and I always blush, which always makes him laugh. I tell him about the plan and the ball. He doesn't seem to like Alexander much. Despite the fact that our little flirtation offers a distraction from hunting for a new house and Mama's sickness, I always have Alexander in the back of my mind. Meanwhile, at work, there have been more dress fittings and etiquette lessons from Alexander than actual work. I feel like my position at work is suddenly elevated. No longer am I a lowly maid. I am now a society girl, prim and proper.
Finally, the day of the ball arrives. We've yet to find a house, are still sleeping in the apothecary's shop, and Mama's condition is worsening, but I wake up with excitement in my heart. I tell everyone that I will be home late tonight, then I skip to work, excited for the day ahead. When I reach work, it is at first a regular day. My mistress hands me a to-do list, and I get to work. In the late afternoon, however, things change from ordinary to extraordinary.
At around three o' clock., I go to the dressmaker's room. We lock the door to make sure no one comes in. When I turn around, I see, lying on a chair, the most beautiful dress ever. And I'm going to be wearing it. It is blush pink, with a fitted waist, and billowy, long skirts. It looks like something a princess out of a fairy tale would wear. The dressmaker ties me in to a corset, which is mildly hard to breathe in. Then I slip on the dress. It feels soft on my skin, and I turn to the mirror.
"Miss, if I do say so myself, you look quite beautiful," she says quietly.
I jump up and spontaneously hug the dressmaker out of pure joy. "Thank you, thank you," I say, repeating it over and over as I envelop her in a bone-crushing hug. Then she helps curl my hair and put on some bizarre, cakey makeup. We get my shoes on, and I look in the mirror. And I. Look. Really. Good.
Then Alexander comes in, dressed up in a tuxedo. He looks extraordinarily handsome, handsome enough to reverse all my negative thoughts about him. He practically gasps. "You certainly do clean up well for a maid," he says, practically speechless. I glare at him from beneath my painted eyelids.
He takes my hand and leads me out to where the carriages are waiting. We had devised a whole plan, changing my name and giving me a backstory. "Mother," Alexander says, "This is Anna. Her family recently moved here from Ireland."
His mother examines me, then says, "You are looking quite lovely tonight, Ms. Anna. You will be a welcome addition to our family." With introductions made and pleasantries exchanged, we embark on our ride to the ballroom.
When we get to the ball, everything is in full swing. Elegantly dressed couples are whirling across the parquet floors effortlessly. Alexander immediately takes me straight to the dance floor. He whirls me around, and I'm proud to say that I only tripped or stepped on his toes a few times. A few girls on the side are tittering, wondering who this mystery girl is. His hand slides down from my waist to my hips a few times, and I feel very uncomfortable about it. I don't know if it's because of Curtis or just because I feel a boy shouldn't be allowed to touch my hips just yet. But, I take his hand and put it back on my waist.
At a lull in the music, we linger on the dance floor. He whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my face. "You look extraordinary. Pardon me, but I cannot keep my hands off of you." His touch sends tingles through out my body, but there is a pit of guilt in my stomach. I turn away from him, and look through the wide windows. A figure is lurking in the bushes around the ballroom. When I turn back to Alexander, he cups my face and kisses me, his kisses wet and sloppy. I turn away, and slap him. Out of nowhere, Curtis stomps in to the ballroom. He pushes Alexander away from me and stabs a finger in to his chest.
"What do you think you're doing with my girl?" he yells, right in Alexander's face. They tumble on to the shiny floors, struggling with each other.
Insults are being hurled.
"Bloody ass!"
"Dunce. Go back to your village!"
"Cussed fool!"
Back and forth, back and forth. All the ladies are looking on in shock. Curtis grabs my arm and pulls me out, leaving a bruised Alexander on the dance floor.
Curtis drags me out, panting. Just as I'm about to yell at him, he says, "Your mother has passed away."