be even better on Saturday,’ her new friend returned, ‘because I will put your hair up like this and fashion it with flowers.’
Clever fingers arranged the curls in a way that gave the impression of far more hair than she had and Amethyst smiled.
‘See,’ Christine exclaimed. ‘With a simple smile everything comes together in exactly the way that it should.’
* * *
On the evening of the Herringworth ball Daniel Wylde and Lucien Howard waited in the salon downstairs with Robert Cameron.
‘My daughter will be down presently. Your sister, Lord Ross, is helping her to dress as we speak and I have been banned from going anywhere near the upstairs bed chambers.’
Looking at a clock on the opposite wall, Daniel nodded. It was still considered early in society terms and so they had all the time in the world to wait. Besides the brandy that Robert had plied them with upon their arrival was both smooth and rich.
He wondered as he took the first sip whether he should have asked his sister Gwen to help Christine with Amethyst’s preparation for the ball, but dismissed the thought as most unworkable. Perhaps after the wedding he could make certain that both Gwen and Caroline spent more time with them at either Montcliffe Manor or Dunstan House in the hope that his mother’s influence over the young girls might lessen. He envied Lucien for the smooth ease of the Howard family dynamics, in spite of Lucien’s contrary grandfather.
‘I have not known Amethyst to take quite this much trouble with her appearance before.’ Robert Cameron was peering at the clock.
‘It will be the influence of my sister, Mr Cameron, for she is meticulous in her observation of detail. Your daughter will not have a chance to take breath once Christine hits her stride.’
‘Well, people and things have been coming and going all day, my lords. Let us pray she won’t be disappointed with the outcome for her hair is still so...’ He stopped and fidgeted with the brandy bottle, seeming uncertain in the present company as to whether he should go on or not.
‘Short.’ Daniel finished the sentence off. ‘She told me of it whilst we were riding in the park the other day.’
Robert Cameron smiled and leant back in his chair. He was still far too thin, but he looked healthier and more relaxed. ‘Then that is a relief to hear, for I doubt my daughter has confided in anybody else and sometimes I wish she would.’
‘You have no other relatives at all?’
‘None. I was an only child and so was Susannah.’
Daniel thought for a moment how freeing that must be in the light of all the difficulties with his mother. Lucien’s frown had deepened, though. The Howards had generally always been a close-knit family and he was probably wondering at how the Camerons could have been so isolated. Robert, however, was expounding on their aloneness in a voice that sounded worried.
‘The business has taken much of our time, you see, but in the past week I have sold a great deal of it off to a competitor who has always expressed an interest in buying it. I hope now that Dunstan House might be my principal place of residence, a quieter life with the horses, you understand. A home where we might become part of a community.’
Their conversation was interrupted by a butler who appeared at the door. ‘Miss Cameron and Lady Christine have instructed me to tell you that they are ready, sir.’
The rustle of silk was followed by small steps on the marble floor and then his wife-to-be was before him. Daniel could barely recognise her.
Gone was the dull brown lustreless wig, replaced by light blonde curls tucked up into a band of small yellow roses, the honey, straw and gold of her tresses making her dark eyes and eyebrows stand out in a way they had not before. In the light of the candles her skin looked transparent, the previously sallow tone of her skin transformed now into almost alabaster.
Daniel found himself on his feet, speechless at the transformation. Her golden gown clung, too, displaying the curves only hinted at in the shapeless clothes she normally favoured. She filled out the bodice of her dress admirably though her waist was tiny. When she saw where he looked she began to speak immediately.
‘Christine assures me that this neckline is most tasteful and not at all racy and that other women wear far more revealing outfits.’ Her fingers tugged at the darker shade of material that swathed the bodice. Gloves, the lightest of gossamer lace, barely covered the glow of her skin.
‘You look...different.’ He hardly recognised his own voice as the dimples marking her cheeks deepened, her bones elegant and sculpted in the light. Her lips were painted with a quiet pink and it emphasised the fullness of them. He could barely breathe properly with the transformation.
Palms open, she gestured to the dress. ‘This is the result of hours and hours of work on Christine’s behalf, I am afraid, my lord. Tomorrow I shall be just as I was.’
But for Daniel time seemed to stand still, caught in astonishment and trepidation. Before Amethyst Cameron might have been largely invisible in a society ballroom, but now...now the knives could be out and sharper than they might otherwise have been.
When he glanced across he could see the same sort of astonishment on Lucien’s face that must have been evident upon his own. Christine simply looked as though she might laugh out loud.
God, he wished they did not have to go out at all, society and its expectations bearing down upon them with all its infatuation with beauty and grace. Her father was watching him too, eyes keen and his smile broad, giving Daniel the impression that he had known all along how truly lovely his daughter was.
‘I think we should ask Lady Christine to help again in the preparation for the wedding day, my dear. You have not looked so pretty in an age and I want a full report tomorrow on all the happenings at the ball,’ Robert said.
Only pretty? Daniel swallowed the words back and looked over at Lucien. There was a definite challenge in his green eyes.
‘I am more than certain tonight shall prove a most interesting experience, Mr Cameron.’ Lucien’s drawl was slow and languid.
* * *
‘Lord Montcliffe, Miss Amethyst Cameron, Lord Ross and Lady Christine Howard.’
As their names rang out across the ballroom the conversations filling the generous space quietened and heads turned their way.
This was exactly what Amethyst had been dreading, this exposure coupled with a public knowledge that she was from the lowly echelons of trade. She held in her breath and wondered if she might ever release it.
‘I always pretend there is a field of grass before me at this moment,’ Christine trilled, ‘and that the colourful gowns are flowers. And I never look anyone in the eye.’
Despite her trepidation Amethyst smiled and the awful horror of being so very visible faded into something she was more able to cope with. Daniel did not look even vaguely nonplussed by all the attention. Rather he seemed almost bored, an Earl who had graced countless ballrooms and endless society functions just like this.
His world, Amethyst thought. His heritage. Today he wore a large ring on the first finger of his left hand. She had not noticed him sport any jewellery before and this one was substantial— the crest impaled with a lion in red on one half and a series of white crosses in gold on the other. The family badges of a noble birth passed down from father to son. Just another small token of an exalted lineage and a further example of how unsuitably matched they were.
She had decided in the end not to wear any jewellery at all, letting the golden gown speak for itself with its intricate folds and detailing, but in this room with all the glamour of the ton she wondered if such lack was a mistake. Here, she felt out of place, the lessons from Gaskell Street leaving her totally unprepared for such opulence. She wanted to take Daniel’s hand and hold it close, an anchor in a world that was foreign and a man who could easily overcome any difficulties. But she did not, of course, for he had