Free Rushed to the Altar by Jane Feather

grateful for your help. This is all new to me, and I really don’t know what to expect.”
    “You really are new to the business?” Emily looked astonished. “How could you have attracted Blackwater if you haven’t been around?”
    “An accident.” Clarissa improvised quickly. “I was hoping to find some custom in the Piazza because Mother Griffiths had said I could have the room but none of the house services until I could pay her a proper rent. I needed to find some regular customers of my own. And then . . . well, while I was walking I suppose I took the earl’s eye, because he followed me back here and made an offer for me.”
    She was astonished at how easily the story tripped off her tongue. And she could see that it had satisfied her visitors.
    “Oh, that’s all right.” Maddy put a reassuring arm around her. “We all know what it’s like at first. But you struck lucky first time, so let Em do your hair. She’s a magician with the curling iron. Your hair’s a gorgeous color, but it needs a touch of curl, don’t you think, Em?”
    Emily was already heating the curling iron in the fire’s glowing embers. Clarissa had often wondered how she would look with curled hair; now might be the timeto find out. She sat back on the bed. The faint smell of singeing hair perfumed the air while Emily worked, but after a few moments she stood back and declared, “There now. Lovely, isn’t it, Maddy?”
    “Beautiful,” Maddy agreed. “Are you sure you won’t wear the sprigged muslin, Clarissa? Those ringlets would look lovely drifting over your shoulders. They’d draw the eye to your boobies just perfect.”
    Clarissa was about to protest that drawing the eye to her rather insignificant bosom had never been the primary purpose of her wardrobe choices, but then reflected that since she was playing this charade, she should probably make it as authentic as possible. “I’ll try it,” she conceded, unlacing her bodice.
    The sprig muslin was unlike any gown she possessed. It was laced at the back, and by the time Maddy had tugged and tied until Clarissa could barely breathe it fitted like a glove. She looked down at the pronounced swell of her breasts over the lace edging to the neckline, if, indeed, you could call it a neckline; it was so low it barely concealed her nipples. She felt almost naked. Her breasts were quite small, but in this gown they seemed the most prominent aspect of her appearance.
    “I don’t know,” she muttered doubtfully. “I don’t feel like myself.”
    “You’re not supposed to. Wait here.” Maddy disappeared and reappeared in a few moments with a mirror of beaten copper. “Now look, see the ringlets against your skin . . . it’s so white.”
    Clarissa looked. She thought she could get accustomed to the ringlets—they did frame her face in an attractive manner—but she was not happy with the expanse of flesh exposed by the gown. She shook her head firmly. “No, the hair’s nice, but not the gown. I’ll wear my own.” She reached behind to struggle with the laces.
    “I think it’s a mistake, but if you insist . . .” Doubtfully Emily helped her loosen the bodice and Clarissa stepped out of the gown with a sigh of relief. She stepped into the bronze muslin again, laced it up, then looked at her reflection in the copper mirror.
    “That’s better; I least I can recognize myself. But thank you.” She smiled at the two young women. “I do appreciate your help.”
    “We’ll see you later then.” Maddy gathered up the rejected gown, smoothing it over her arm with a rather regretful air. “I expect the earl will buy you an entire wardrobe of gorgeous gowns.”
    “And jewels too,” Emily put in as she went to the door.
    “Yes, but once he’s tired of you, he’ll want those back,” Maddy declared matter-of-factly. “So enjoy them while you have them.” The sound of their footsteps on the stairs receded and quiet once more descended upon the attic.
    But not for long.