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Leona laughed. “Well, then at least we know there is warm blood in her veins, for haven’t I heard you doubted that in the past?”

Betsy dropped her head down, a bright red blush staining her cheeks.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease you, but I have promised, and I’m certain your services will be in great demand this evening with all the other guests. At least you will have the opportunity to see many of the other women and their gowns. Perhaps you might even spy a new hairstyle that we might try.”

Betsy lilted her head, the sparkle coming slowly back in her eyes. “Oh, yes, miss, I might at that.”

Leona laughed at the change in her demeanor and sent her on her way. Finally, blissfully, she was able to lie down. To her surprise, she fell deeply asleep. She didn’t awaken until more than an hour later—after several repeated loud knocks on her door.

“What?” she called out, disoriented and coming awake groggily.

It was Sarah Jewitt at the door. “Lady Lucille sent me to discover what was keeping you, Miss Leonard.”

“What? Oh, the ball!” She rolled out of bed, stretching. “I overslept. Tell her I shall be along directly.”

The dresser stood impassively, her hands folded in front of her. “May I take your gown and things?”

Her colorless voice grated on Leona’s nerves.

Leona frowned a moment, wondering what Lucy could find to recommend this woman.

Her skills must be excellent, indeed. She gave permission and waved her toward the wardrobe where the new gown, commissioned by Lady Nevin, hung.

Silently the woman gathered all her accouterments for the ball and left the room.

Watching her go, Leona suddenly wished she hadn’t made her promise to Lucy.

Miss Jewitt’s sour face could spoil anyone’s excitement.

Maybe that was why Lucy asked her to join her.

Leona crossed to the washbasin and poured water into the bowl.

With a cool cloth, she bathed her face and upper body, chasing the last of her sleep and lethargy away, This was Lucy’s special day, and Leona would do all she could to help make it memorable.

Thinking back on the events of the last week, she only hoped no other mischief was planned by Howard North and his associates, whoever they might be.

Funny. He mentioned a Sally, but Leona didn’t recall meeting any Sally on the Castle Marin estate.

She bit her lower lip. Why should she think of her now?

She’d even forgotten to mention the name to Deveraux.

It had waited this long. It could wait another day.

A betrothal ball was not the time to bring up bad memories.

Now was the time to join the bride-to-be to soothe her jitters, grant compliments, and share friendly, excited laughter.

As Leona expected, Lucy was in a high state of anticipation.

She talked nearly incessantly, speculating on the evening and the guests.

There wasn’t much for Leona to do but laugh, nod, or sigh at the appropriate moments.

Sarah Jewitt wordlessly went about her tasks, her colorless appearance in striking contrast to Lady Lucy and Leona.

Lady Lucy’s gown of India gauze shot with silver, was pale blue, so pale as to be almost white.

Medallions of dark blue silk embroidered at the hem and on the bodice gave the gown an elegance that lifted it above debutante status.

Jewitt massed her black hair on top of her head to complete her toilette, her luxurious hair held in place by gleaming polished silver combs.

Leona’s gown was gold raw silk embroidered with gold metallic thread.

Gold lace was set on at the hem and on the bodice.

The dress’s color was a perfect foil for her dark golden hair and the flecks of gold mingled with green and brown in her eyes.

Jewitt dressed her hair a la grecque —a more elaborate style than Leona had ever worn—and threaded it with bright gold ribbon.

To her surprise, Leona was entranced with the new style.

“Oh, Leona,” breathed Lucy. “You look so. . . so regal!” Leona laughed but privately agreed the style gave her a polished elegance she’d never had before. She turned toward the dresser standing passively by her side. “Thank you, Jewitt. You truly are as gifted as Lucy says.”

Jewitt bobbed her head once in acknowledgment, then turned to straighten the room. Lucy grabbed Leona’s hands, squeezing them, her own blue eyes sparkling.

A knock on the door interrupted them. “Lucy, it’s Nigel. May I come in? I have something for you.”

Lucy exchanged glances with Leona, then shrugged. “Yes, of course.”

Nigel entered the room slowly, a small wooden casket under his arm. Lucy’s eyes widened at the sight of the wooden box. He caught her expression and grinned. He walked over to the dressing table where Leona sat and set the casket down. Then he turned to face his sister.

“You are beautiful, imp. If you weren’t my sister . . .” he drawled. He looked her up and down, leering comically.

Lucy laughed delightedly, then stood up on tiptoe to kiss her brother’s cheek. She glanced down at the casket. “What did you bring that here for?” she asked breathlessly, but she already knew in her heart what the answer would be. She was bursting with happiness.

“This? Oh, that sentimental brother of ours wrote me a few weeks ago and told me to let you pick out a bauble or two to wear.”

“He did? And you didn’t tell me until now? Oh, Nigel, how could you!”

Deveraux laughed at the perplexed expression he spotted on Leona’s face. He reached down to flick open the latch and push up the top. The box was perhaps six inches deep and entirely lined with padded velvet. Nestled inside the box was a glittering array of gems. “The Nevin Jewels,” he proclaimed.

Lucy clasped her hands together and sighed loudly.

“I see you shall be some time making your selection. I’ll leave you to pick and choose. All I ask is that you not attempt to drape every piece upon your person.”

“As if I would,” huffed Lucy. “Besides, I know that some of the pieces are only to be worn by the current countess.” She reverently drew a diamond and pearl tiara out of the box.

“I remember when Emily wore this right after her marriage to Brandon. It has a necklace and earrings to match.” She scooted other jewelry aside with her finger in search of the other pieces to the heirloom suite.

“Do not be all evening at choosing. Our guests will be arriving soon. Have Miss Jewitt bring it to my man when you’re finished. He’ll see it is locked up.”

Lucy scarcely heard him, her attention on the sparkle and flash of jewels. “Oh, what should I wear? They’re all so beautiful! Jewitt, help me choose. Your taste is always exquisite.”

Her lips pursed and pulled forward like she’d just sucked on a sour lemon, Jewitt came up to look over Lucy’s shoulder. “Most of it appears quite old-fashioned. The earl should consider remounting. That tiara with its matching pieces is hideously out of style, much too heavy.”

“Out of style!” protested Lucy. “But it’s the heirloom suite, passed down from countess to countess!”

Jewitt looked at her impassively.

Lucy relented. “All right, but isn’t there anything here I could wear?”

Sarah Jewitt turned back to the box, picking up and discarding various items until she came to sapphires set in silver filigree.

“These, my lady, are quite exceptional stones. The balance is good, and it will not seem garish and tawdry.” She pulled out a delicate necklace for which most of the stones were modest in size save for the pear-shaped pendant in the front. There were matching drop earrings.

“Oh, yes! Yes! That’s perfect,” said Lucy. She turned around so Jewitt could fasten the necklace about her throat, then she leaned toward the mirror to put on the earrings. Done, she danced out into the center of the room and twirled around. “How do I look?” she asked Leona.

Leona rose from the dressing table as Jewitt gathered up the jewelry and replaced it in the casket. She went over to Lucy. “Like a princess, a princess in a fairytale about to meet your handsome prince.”

Lady Lucille laughed delightedly. “That is exactly how I feel! Oh, Leona, this is the happiest night of my life!”

“Yet, ” Leona reminded her impishly. “There’s still your wedding night to come.”

Lucy blushed and nodded happily. “Quick, get your shawl and fan and let’s go downstairs together. Jewitt, do you have the casket?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“You can take it to Nigel’s valet now, and then you can go enjoy yourself.”

“No, my lady, not until I see you safely in bed after the ball. You might need me to fix a hem or redress your hair. I’ll not desert you tonight. Nor you neither, Miss Leonard, should you need me.”

Lucy impulsively skipped forward to hug her dresser. “You may not sparkle and shine like those jewels do, but you are a gem.”

Jewitt murmured a thank you , her bland expression never changing.

Leona still thought Jewitt was a peculiar person, but she seemed dedicated enough to her mistress, and ultimately that was all that mattered. She hooked her arm with Lady Lucille’s, and together they went to stand at the top of the staircase for their grand entrance.