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pas?”
    Sophie gave her a strained smile, which the woman took for an affirmative answer. “Ah, well. Not to worry.
    His lordship will take one look at you zhees morning and eet will be him who has zhee nerves. Miss Barrington looks vraiment belle this morning. Oui?” She looked to Heloise for confirmation.
    Her aunt nodded. “You do look lovely, dear,” she verified, setting the basket on the dressing table next to the untouched box of bonbons Lyndhurst had sent the day before. After pausing to watch mademoiselle wind a ribbon through Sophie’s coiffure, she wandered across the room to examine the primrose and lilac round dress that had been selected for her niece to wear.
    The next few minutes passed in silence: mademoiselle deciding whether to knot or bow the ribbon, Heloise debating if Sophie should wear pearl or hoop earrings, and Sophie wondering if she had pin money enough to buy passage to France.
    Just as Sophie came to the dismal conclusion that her funds might take her as far as Dover, mademoiselle stepped back crying, “Voila!” gesturing grandly at her masterpiece of hair and satin.
    And it was a masterpiece. Leaving a single curl at either side of her brow, she had drawn Sophie’s hair back from a center part and pinned it up on her crown in a cluster of perfect ringlets. The lilac ribbon, which had been used as a band around her head, terminated in a bow that rested above her left temple.
    Even Sophie, as dispirited as she was, had to admit that the effect was fetching. Too bad the effect was to be wasted on Lyndhurst.
    “Excellent!” Heloise exclaimed, leaving off rummaging through Sophie’s jewelry chest to take a closer look. “You’ve truly outdone yourself today, mademoiselle.”
    Not given to false modesty, the maid nodded. “Oui. I have. I now have only to dress miss in zhat charming gown and add zhee jewelry, and — voila ! — she is ready to accept his lordship.”
    Sophie made a face at the reminder of the horrid duty that awaited her. Never, not even with all the primping in the world, would she ever be ready for Lyndhurst and his cursed proposal.
    Unfortunately for her, neither of the other two women missed her sudden grimace of distaste. However, before her maid could comment upon it, and by the look on her face she was clearly about to do so, Heloise said, “You may go now, mademoiselle. I wish to speak to my niece in private.”
    “But zhee gown, madam! Eet has Spanish sleeves. Spanish sleeves must be arranged just so to be effective.”
    “I am perfectly capable of arranging sleeves,” her aunt countered, her voice ringing with a note of finality. When the maid still hesitated, she clapped her hands. “Chop! Chop, now, mademoiselle! There are delicate matters I must discuss with the girl before she goes down, and we mustn’t keep his lordship waiting any longer than necessary.”
    “Delicate?” A look of sudden dawning crossed the French woman’s face. “Ah! Zhee bridal talk, ouiV‘ “Bridal talk?” Heloise looked momentarily nonplussed. Then she flushed a dull shade of red. “Ur, yes. That talk, yes.”
    Mademoiselle chuckled and shot Sophie a knowing look. “You listen to your aunt, ouil She will tell you all about marriage so you won’t be frightened.”
    Sophie nodded, more wretched than ever at that prospect. Excellent. Just what she wanted to do, listen while her aunt told her of the horrors awaiting her in Lyndhurst’s bed. Filled though she was with repugnance, she still remembered herself enough to say to the departing maid, “Thank you, mademoiselle. His lordship shall no doubt be quite pleased with your efforts.”
    It was no lie, she thought, studying her reflection in the mirror. Despite the fact that she hadn’t slept a wink all night, she looked as fresh and rested as if she had just spent a quiet fortnight in the country. And a blessing it was, too. If she were out of looks, his lordship might have second thoughts about marrying her. Then she