Marianne leaned her chin on her palm, staring out the window dreamily into the park across from their townhouse. She was unused to the sights and sounds of the city, and they filled her with a secret thrill of delight.
All the world seemed spread out before her; the streets full of people passing arm and arm, arguing over the price of a carriage ride, or striding purposefully to one meeting or another. It was all so strange and different from the place where she had grown up, where she could peer out the front window of their vast country estate and see only rolling hills dotted with sheep, a lazy river that connected with a faraway village, and orchards along the lake.
She had been to London before, but only on visits with her father when she was younger, back when London was a chance to see a play or go to a museum for a few days; nothing more. Now, everything was different. Now, the world outside Marianne’s window held the promise associated with her first-ever Season in London.
The air outside was still crisp and cold, but she could smell spring on the breeze and knew that soon all the people below in cloaks and velvet would be walking beneath cherry blossoms in the throes of romance and intrigue. She was a young woman at last being introduced into official society, and the idea was exhilarating.
“My Lady?”
She turned and saw her maid standing in the doorway, arms full of white muslin.
“Millie, is that it?” she cried, coming from the window and taking the gown up in her arms. “I haven’t seen it since the tailor shop.” She ran to the mirror, letting the dress fall in front of her. It skimmed the floor, elegantly tailored in the latest fashion; the sleeves capped with tasselled tops, the bodice low and lovely, trimmed in pearls like the hem and the ribbon cinched tight about the chest before the gown fell in shimmering folds to the floor.
“It is, My Lady,” the maid said, blushing prettily to the roots of her blonde hair. “It’s a pretty thing, and perfect for a first coming out gown. Are you quite ready to dress? Your father asked that you come down to his study afterwards, and I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
Marianne nodded with a quick smile. “I am indeed ready. Will you help?”
The maid unbuttoned her plain housedress and helped her into the much grander gown, lacing up the undergarments and back separately before putting the final pearl buttons in place. Marianne smoothed her hands along the front, feeling like a princess.
“Now for your hair, My Lady,” Millie said, leading her to a seat in front of the toilette and expertly twisting up her long, thick red hair into a knot atop her head. The curls were unruly under normal circumstances, but Marianne had worn hers in careful rag curls the night before to tame them, and when the style was done, a few perfect curls fell to frame her pale cheeks. Her eyes looked out of her face, grey and deep. She reached up and slipped a few white roses into her hair, holding them in place while Millie pinned them so that they would not move.
When she stood again, she sighed happily. “You’ve made me into a princess, Millie.”
“I didn’t have to make you into anything,” Millie said with a sigh. “You’re practically royalty, My Lady; the daughter of a baron appearing for the first time in London society. Everyone will be eager to know you.”
Marianne felt a twinge of nerves at the idea of all the strangers she would be meeting for the first time and smiled weakly. “It is all going to be very new and strange,” she said quietly.
“My Lady, you’ve been to balls before,” Millie interjected.
“Country balls, where the village square is ringed in banners and the room is lit with candles,” she said with a smile. “Nothing like a London ball before; nothing as grand as what I will attend tonight. It will be obvious to everyone, I’m sure, that I am new.”
Millie reached up and adjusted a strand of hair carefully.
“It should be obvious, My Lady,” she said at last. “This is your first time officially out in society at a London Season. The entire room should notice.”