The Duchess and the Diamonds
by Rhianon Jameson
July 2008
I was late to the ball, and the music had already started when the coachman let me
out at the marbled steps in front of the Duchess’s residence.
Gathering my skirts and
summoning my courage, I...
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The Duchess and the Diamonds
by Rhianon Jameson
July 2008
I was late to the ball, and the music had already started when the coachman let me
out at the marbled steps in front of the Duchess’s residence.
Gathering my skirts and
summoning my courage, I walked past the stone lions, chipped and weathered with age,
up the steps, and to the doorway, where Bartholomew, the butler, waited to greet me.
My late arrival was not because of habitual tardiness on my part.
Rather, I was
new to Caledonian society – or, here, Society – and spent far too long ensuring my hair
and makeup were just right before slipping into the ball gown I could scarcely afford and
leaving my cottage for the waiting coach.
I had no lady’s maid of my own, being a
humble scrivener, so I had to apply the powders and unguents myself, then act as my own
critic.
Knowing I was running very late for the ball, my first important social invitation,
made my hand unsteady, lengthening the process still further.
“What can you t
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