Stars Above (The Lunar Chronicles #4.5)(94)
Her stomach growled in its confinement.
“Are you all right?” Mary Ann whispered.
She bobbed her head, not wanting to waste any precious air to speak.
“Dress!”
Before Catherine could catch her breath, she found herself being squashed and wrangled into the red velvet monstrosity. When the maids had finished and Catherine dared to peek into the mirror, she was relieved that, while she may have felt like an encased sausage, she didn’t look like one. The bold color brought out the red in her lips and made her fair skin appear fairer and her dark hair darker. When Abigail settled the enormous necklace onto her collarbone and replaced her pearls with dangling rubies, Catherine felt, momentarily, like a true lady of the court, all glamour and mystery.
“Marvelous!” The Marchioness clasped one of Catherine’s hands in both of hers, that peculiar, misty-eyed look returning. “I’m so proud of you.”
Catherine frowned. “You are?”
“Oh, don’t start fishing now.” Her mother clucked her tongue, patting the back of Cath’s hand once before dropping it.
Catherine eyed her reflection again. The mystique was quickly fading, leaving her feeling exposed. She would have preferred a nice, roomy day dress, covered in flour or not. “Mama, I’ll be overdressed. No one else will be so done up.”
Her mother sniffed. “Precisely. You look exceptional!” She wiped away a tear. “I could scatter to pieces.”
Despite all her discomfort, all her reservations, Cath couldn’t deny a hot spark behind her sternum. Her mother’s voice was a constant nag in her head, telling her to put down the fork, to stand up straight, to smile, but not that much! She knew her mother wanted the best for her, but it was oh so lovely to hear compliments for once.
With one last dreamy sigh, the Marchioness mentioned checking on Cath’s father before she fluttered out of the room, dragging Abigail along with her. As the door to her chambers closed, Cath yearned to fall onto her bed with the exhaustion that came from being in her mother’s presence, but she was sure she would rip an important seam if she did.
“Do I look as ridiculous as I feel?”
Mary Ann shook her head. “You look ravishing.”
“Is it absurd to look ravishing at this silly ball? Everyone will think I’m being presumptuous.”
Mary Ann pressed her lips in apology. “It is a bit of butter upon bacon.”
“Oh, please, I’m hungry enough as it is.” Cath twisted inside the corset, trying to pry up some of the boning that dug into her ribs, but it wouldn’t budge. “I need a chocolate.”
“I’m sorry, Cath, but I don’t think that dress could fit a single bite. Come along. I’ll help you into your shoes.”