Her eyes appeared even larger than usual, shadowed as they were by sleeplessness. She had lately been troubled by nightmares, in which Isolda’s husband and son played a mad game of hide-and-go-seek with an elusive shadowy third person, while she herself tried desperately to avoid discovery. But her hiding place had a tendency to vanish, leaving her defenseless and exposed, and Averil tried countless times to rescue her, while Jasper watched and laughed. The evening dress she wore was of gossamer satin, its bodice and slashed sleeves of an amber shade that matched her eyes. With it she wore long gloves, matching shoes, and her mother’s topaz set. She carefully wound a ribbon through her unruly curls, and wondered incuriously what the next few hours might hold in store. An evening spent with Lady Laurent and her friends held little appeal. Dillian came to fetch her. Loveday thought wryly that she was not even permitted to walk the hallways alone. Clad in a high-waisted gown of white spider gauze, the girl looked enchantingly like some fairy-tale creature come to life, and her delight at attending her first party was contagious.
