She hadn't gone down to breakfast, nor had she gone to tea or lunch. She hadn't left the room all morning. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair. Instead she sat at the vanity in the small guest room she'd been given and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Fiery red hair that usually hung silkily down past her shoulders sat in knotted clumps on her head. She looked paler than she had ever remembered looking back home in London. Her crystal blue eyes seemed dull and bleak staring back at her from the mirror. This was not how she had intended to spend her summer. After the humiliation however, her parents had thought a trip to visit the country relatives would be good. She needed to be away from London society and out of the spotlight for a time. The family in the country had a lackluster reputation that was sure to keep her hidden from the prying eyes of everyone she knew back home. No one would dream of looking for her here.
The sudden rapping at her door made her jump. That harpy woman was back. She spun about quickly to ensure that the chair was still securely wedged under the handle of her door. It wasn't that she didn't love her aunt or admire her for agreeing to put up her seventeen year old niece for a season in an already full house. She just couldn't stand the constant nagging to join in with Dorset country society. The rapping on the door came again, and she stared daggers at it from her vanity. She could just hear her aunt through the thick wooden panel. "Isabel Jane Merriman! Open the door this instant!"
She rolled her eyes heavenward before shouting back through the door. "I'm not going aunt! I don't want to be paraded about for a group of nobodies! I want to go home!" And with that she turned back to stare at her horrid reflection. It wasn't five minutes later when she spun around again, this time to see the door flying open and the chair broken to pieces. Her uncle stood in the doorway with his wife peeking over his broad shoulder. "Libby, your aunt insists you join us at Eastbury Park for the ball tonight. You will do just that." After that single statement, he turned on his heel and left. Almost immediately, Isabel's aunt and cousins swooped into the room and began fussing over her appearance. They went round and round for an hour trying to find something for Libby to wear and deciding how her hair should be done. Though Isabel wanted to scream and run from the room and from the house, she held her ground. She would endure tonight with the grace and dignity she was raised with.
Some hours later, the family carriage swayed to a halt before a large manor house. Libby and her cousins quickly donned their masks, each helping the other tie them on before leaving the carriage. They were quietly directed toward the ballroom by a few well placed wait staff in the halls. A shock of disgrace was the first thing to hit Isabel upon entering the room. Although it was customary for young women to wear white to formal functions such as this, it seemed she was the only one to have done so. Her eyes were assailed by shocks of color all around her. There was no white, nor ivory, nor cream. Not even a demure pale rose was to be seen. All the woman wore shocking and robust colors. Libby felt even more out of place now, knowing she was the only properly dressed lady in the room.
Quickly and quietly she slipped away from her family. She knew that within a few minutes her aunt would begin trying to broker deals. The woman would happily marry her daughters off to any eligible man between eighteen and eighty and Libby did not want to be caught in that net. Instead she found a quiet corner where her demure white dress helped her to blend into the wall. She lifted a light hand to her hair to ensure all of the pins holding her curls in place were still intact. Then her hand traveled to her face. The simple white lace of her mask was securely in place as well. Breathing a sigh of relief at being unharmed and safely away from her family, Isabel folded her hands demurely in front of her. Her blue eyes wandered the room slowly, taking in the band and the dancers and the buffet. If she could survive the night without being caught by her aunt and uncle and forced to socialize, everything would be fine.
The sudden rapping at her door made her jump. That harpy woman was back. She spun about quickly to ensure that the chair was still securely wedged under the handle of her door. It wasn't that she didn't love her aunt or admire her for agreeing to put up her seventeen year old niece for a season in an already full house. She just couldn't stand the constant nagging to join in with Dorset country society. The rapping on the door came again, and she stared daggers at it from her vanity. She could just hear her aunt through the thick wooden panel. "Isabel Jane Merriman! Open the door this instant!"
She rolled her eyes heavenward before shouting back through the door. "I'm not going aunt! I don't want to be paraded about for a group of nobodies! I want to go home!" And with that she turned back to stare at her horrid reflection. It wasn't five minutes later when she spun around again, this time to see the door flying open and the chair broken to pieces. Her uncle stood in the doorway with his wife peeking over his broad shoulder. "Libby, your aunt insists you join us at Eastbury Park for the ball tonight. You will do just that." After that single statement, he turned on his heel and left. Almost immediately, Isabel's aunt and cousins swooped into the room and began fussing over her appearance. They went round and round for an hour trying to find something for Libby to wear and deciding how her hair should be done. Though Isabel wanted to scream and run from the room and from the house, she held her ground. She would endure tonight with the grace and dignity she was raised with.
Some hours later, the family carriage swayed to a halt before a large manor house. Libby and her cousins quickly donned their masks, each helping the other tie them on before leaving the carriage. They were quietly directed toward the ballroom by a few well placed wait staff in the halls. A shock of disgrace was the first thing to hit Isabel upon entering the room. Although it was customary for young women to wear white to formal functions such as this, it seemed she was the only one to have done so. Her eyes were assailed by shocks of color all around her. There was no white, nor ivory, nor cream. Not even a demure pale rose was to be seen. All the woman wore shocking and robust colors. Libby felt even more out of place now, knowing she was the only properly dressed lady in the room.
Quickly and quietly she slipped away from her family. She knew that within a few minutes her aunt would begin trying to broker deals. The woman would happily marry her daughters off to any eligible man between eighteen and eighty and Libby did not want to be caught in that net. Instead she found a quiet corner where her demure white dress helped her to blend into the wall. She lifted a light hand to her hair to ensure all of the pins holding her curls in place were still intact. Then her hand traveled to her face. The simple white lace of her mask was securely in place as well. Breathing a sigh of relief at being unharmed and safely away from her family, Isabel folded her hands demurely in front of her. Her blue eyes wandered the room slowly, taking in the band and the dancers and the buffet. If she could survive the night without being caught by her aunt and uncle and forced to socialize, everything would be fine.