Lady Rose had finally found her feet, she thought. She had seen the potential at once, and as she had expected, it had just taken one dress—the right dress at the right moment—to place her in her rightful position, at the center of attention. Yes, with a little tending, Lady Rose would blossom and take her place as a leader of style and fashion. Behind her, maids pinned up fallen hems and reattached corsages, tidied hair and sent their mistresses out again glowing as if new. Céline realized that a number of the ladies were whispering and glancing at her as their maids worked. Hiding her smile, she turned and went back to where Ada’s opera cloak hung. Stella, who was nearby, gave her a sour look. “I hope you are enjoying your new position,” Céline said. “Very well, thank you. I am delighted to have bettered myself,” Stella replied. Céline heard the venom in her voice, and didn’t have to fake her smile. “I’m glad you are suited to it,” she replied demurely. “Are you Lady Rose’s maid?”
