How To Marry A Werewolf (Claw & Courtship #1)(16)

“His Gamma,” explained Teddy, who was sitting nearby and watching the fitting with interest. “You’re so lucky to be tall, Faith. I could never carry off such a severe style.”

The ball gown Miss Honeybun was draping was based only loosely on a Parisian fashion plate Faith picked out. Faith had pointed and explained, “Like this, only without all the frills. Very simple, Grecian almost, shows the fabric to advantage.” She’d fallen in love with a bolt of sea-green velvet, a mermaid color. Biffy had instructed her to stick with spring shades only. No pastels and nothing too dark. “Spring will do you proud, especially as it is spring.”

Faith thought the color looked well with her fair skin and hair. Her eyes were always a little difficult, slightly too dark a blue for the rest of her – better suited to a brunette, her mother was prone to lamenting.

If Miss Honeybun had time, she would appliqué silver and white flowers about the neck and the hem of Faith’s gown. But the ball was only a few days away, and she would be rushed to even finish the basic dress in time.

“I could loan you Minnie,” suggested Faith, hoping she did not offend either woman with the offer. Minnie had a keen eye for fashion, and Faith thought she might enjoy spending time in a seamstress’s shop, as opposed to enduring her normal maid duties.

“Oh, what a good idea,” said Teddy.

Minnie perked up from where she had been watching the fitting avidly. “I’d love it, miss!”

Miss Honeybun looked cautiously relieved. “Are you adept with a needle, girl?”

Minnie nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Miss Honeybun’s smile was tight-lipped, but not mean. “I cannot ask for more. Are you willing to leave her with me immediately, miss?”

“Minnie?” asked Faith.

“Yes, please, miss.”

“Teddy, will I do without a maid for tonight?”

“I’ll loan you Emeline for your hair if necessary.”

Mrs Iftercast stood at that. “If that’s settled? I think we had best get on, my dears. You’ll need white gloves for that dress, Faith. Do you have opera-length?”

Faith nodded.

“Oh, good. I’m assuming you have dancing slippers? Yes? Good. Then we only require something for your hair and a ribbon for your neck. Miss Honeybun, can you whip up something to match or should we shop further?”

“I am a full-service concern, Madame, and with this one’s help, all should be ready in time for your ball.”

“You’re terrific,” praised Faith, because she was. Also, Miss Honeybun seemed to be bristling slightly at an assumed insult to her skills, and one did not want one’s dressmaker in a snit.

It worked. Miss Honeybun blushed. “You haven’t seen the finished product yet, miss.”

“I have faith in you,” said Faith, because she felt the woman needed it. And then: “Have fun, Minnie. Let me know how it goes and if you require anything, please.”

“Yes, miss.”



The big night had arrived and Mrs Iftercast was patently nervous on the way to the ball. With Faith’s mother, this would have meant tiptoeing around her for fear of a slap or a cruel rebuke. But with Mrs Iftercast, it only manifested in the form of her talking nonstop in the Isopod. She issued instructions to her three children without pause for the entire quarter hour’s drive. Faith imagined her as a small, round brigadier hell-bent on strategic attacks of virulent politeness.

“Theodora, do not talk overmuch of horses. You know horses and werewolves are not compatible. It might offend the supernatural guests.”

“Yes, Mums.”

“Cyril, please don’t disappear immediately into the card room. You must dance at least once with your sister and once with Miss Wigglesworth. And check back as the evening progresses. I expect both my girls to have full dance cards, but you must do your duty to the family first, before you go gambling away the family’s money.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Colin, try not to bumble. You will keep bumbling your Viennese waltz. Better not to undertake it at all than be a bumbler. And do not pay too frequent address to that young Miss Fernhough. She’s too young. You both are.”

“But Mother! Miss Fernhough is a pip.”

“Such vulgar language! One dance and one dance only. Now, Faith dear…”

“Yes, cousin?”

“Of course, you look absolutely ravishing, but perhaps no mention of rocks right away?”

“Not a single sedimentary sequence shall pass my lips, I promise.” Faith attempted to look grave.

“I don’t know what that means, dear, but thank you. Now, are we ready?”

The Isopod hissed to a stop.

Papworth House was a large concern with a most excellent aspect and desirable address. Faith would have known all this as they trod up the stairs even if Mrs Iftercast hadn’t seen fit to tell her of it at length.

They arrived fashionably late, although not so late as to have missed the receiving line.

It was one of the first prestigious events of the season, so everyone who was anyone was in attendance. Either Mrs Iftercast or Teddy constantly explained precedence in Faith’s ear as they waited. Before they even gave over their wraps, Faith counted nearly a dozen explanations as to who else important was arriving alongside and who was who in the receiving line. Once through that hubbub and into the ballroom itself, it became a constant barrage of who was everyone and anyone of note.