Prada and Prejudice

Chapter 13

I am in heaven. Well, as close to heaven as you can get in 1815. After watching what must have been eight different servants bring bucket after bucket of hot water up to my room, I have a full tub of gloriously warm water to soak in. And I'm not leaving until it's cold and I'm all wrinkly.

There's some kind of scented oil in the water, and if I didn't believe in aromatherapy before, I do now. This is the most relaxed I've been in over forty-eight hours.

Since I didn't get to go to the club with Angela, Mindy, and Summer, I'm going to make up for it tonight, Regency-style at the Pommeroy dance. I'll dress to the nines and flirt with some hot guys, and have the time of my life.

When the water gets too cold to tolerate, I get out and put on a cotton nightgown the maid left out for me. Emily insisted that we get ready for the dance together, which is probably a good thing — I need major help figuring out what I'm supposed to wear to something like this.

I've never even been asked to homecoming. Tonight will probably be the first time I ever actually dance with a guy. Crazy. I had to travel two hundred years to go to a freaking dance.

But whatever. I'm going to make the most of it and dance the night away, even if I am wearing weird clothes and they don't play any music I recognize.

I grab a string that disappears into a hole in the wall. It's supposed to connect with a bell somewhere and tell Eliza that I need her. I can't hear it, so I just have to assume it's ringing in some far-off land. I heard Emily once call it 'below stairs,' but I have no idea which stairs she was talking about.

In any case, it must work because Eliza arrives a few minutes later and immediately sets to work on my wet hair, combing and putting it into little rags that are supposed to help give it a curl, until there are so many they're piled all over my head. I feel very fifties retro when she's done.

"Aren't you supposed to be off today?" I ask.

"I was, miss. The whole afte'noon."

I scrunch my brow. "Well, I think you should take tomorrow off too. If anyone has a problem with that, send them to me."

She looks confused, like this has to be a trick.

"You deserve a day off. Don't worry."

"Yes, miss," she says, suddenly looking very, very happy.

"Just promise me you'll sleep in," I say.

Her lips curl into a smile as she curtsies. "Yes, miss."

"Great. Well, I think you can go. I'm going to be getting ready over in Emily's chambers."

As soon as she's gone, I'm ready to go to Emily's room. I walk toward the door in my cotton nightgown, but stop halfway there. It seems .. . bizarre to leave the room like this.

I'm wearing a thin nightdress that barely covers my butt. I haven't seen my bra since day one, so until I get the corset back on, I can't possibly walk out my bedroom door.

I stare at the bell pull again, wondering if I should call back Eliza and ask her for something else to put on. And directions to Emily's. Why hadn't I thought of any of this before I sent her away?

But I feel kind of bad, bugging her so much. I'm not used to having someone at my beck and call. It's kind of weird. So the only solution is to grab one of the blankets off my bed. I look silly, but I wrap it around my body until I look like a big burrito.

Yeah. Modest. That's me.

I peek out my door and look both ways. No one is around.

I'm pretty sure Emily said her room is in the opposite wing, and that if I take this back staircase, I can get there without going by the front entry.

That works great in theory, except Harksbury really is bigger than my high school and I get lost. I'm pretty sure I pass the same creepy portraits three times. I think their eyes might be following me, like in Scooby-Doo. I even think I take the servants' stairs at some point, because they're narrow and lit only by a single small window, so there's no way Victoria or Alex would take them. Alex probably wouldn't even fit, he's so tall. It's good I won't run into them, because hobbling around wrapped in a blanket like this, I look like a complete buffoon. A half-naked, burrito buffoon.

At some point I realize I've made it to the opposite wing. I spot the courtyard through a set of leaded glass windows and the view is the opposite of the one I've seen from my wing. Thank God. It would have been terrible to wander much longer, looking like I do. I could have run into—

Alex.

Alex!

Just seeing him makes my anger boil.

He's staring at me, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide. Is it me, or is he blushing?

Hasn't he ever seen a burrito-girl before? Or is it these dead-sexy rag-curlers in my hair that only an old lady would wear? Not only am I a burrito, I'm a geriatric one. Fabulous.

"Uh, I'm looking for Emily's room," I say. I tighten my grip on the blanket, hoping none of me is hanging out anywhere it shouldn't be.

He doesn't speak, just motions me to follow him. I walk beside him, the blanket dragging behind me. There are about a thousand things I'd like to say to him right now — Eliza's pitiful schedule, that poor lady's letters — but I can't possibly have a serious conversation looking like this, so I don't say any of them.

When we get to the door, it's open, and he steps aside so I can enter. He's so close to the door that I end up brushing past him when I go by.

"Thanks," I mutter. As an afterthought I curtsy, but I'm not sure he can even tell because the blanket just sort of mushrooms out. I scurry through the door and slam it behind me, and then fall against it. Alex is probably staring right at the door in his face. Bet he doesn't get that every day. It almost makes me feel better.

"Oh. My. God. I'm a walking disaster," I say to Emily.

She's sitting on a stool, wearing a gorgeous yellow robe, and spins around to look at me.

A robe. Now why couldn't I have had one of those?

"What is the matter?" She's wearing little rag-curlers, like me, but on her they look cute and perky. The white cloth contrasts with her dark locks, like some kind of fashion statement. Somehow I doubt I look quite as charming.

I walk over to her bed and throw myself on it with a heavy sigh. "I just walked around wrapped up like this and ran into Alex. God, I'm lucky I didn't see anyone else. I bet Victoria would have just loved seeing me like this."

Emily giggles. "You do look quite silly."

"Thanks," I say, rolling over on the bed. "I can't believe he saw me."

Emily sips at a small glass on her vanity and then turns and stares right into my eyes. "I had believed you had no interest in my cousin."

I snarl my lip at her in disgust. "Oh, I am so not interested in him. He is only interested in himself. I mean, really. Could he show some interest and compassion for the people around him? He's totally self-centered. And on top of that, he thinks I should censor everything I say and be a docile little girl or something. I mean, really."

Her grin widens. "There is no need to sway me. I believe you."

"Oh."

So then why is she grinning at me like that?

And more importantly, why doesn't she hate him like I do? I mean, she might not know about the secret kid, but she knows he's all for her marrying that Denworth guy because he's done nothing to help her get out of it. Shouldn't she resent him, even if he is her cousin?

"Now, let us talk of more important topics: our attire for tonight's dance."

And now I grin back at her and all thoughts of Alex disappear. This is going to be so fun.