Though the mourning period was long over, she still felt her clothing should reflect her loss and heartbreak. She tried to ignore the tiny twinge that told her she was ready to find love again, even though it shone within her like the sparkling gray crystals that decorated the bodice of her dress and the matching necklace, earrings, and bracelet Lady Hackle had lent her that evening.

Then a delightful feeling came over her: she suddenly realized it was precisely because she didn’t feel like herself that she indeed felt beautiful that evening.

Rebecca had done a remarkable job on her hair, and it did look fetching with the dress Lady Hackle had picked out for her. She fancied the crystals on her dress lent a glint to the hints of silver in her hair. She wasn’t a young woman, but she didn’t feel she was old enough for her hair to be quite so streaked with silver. This evening, for some reason, she liked the way she looked. It made her feel stately, as if the silver was a badge of wisdom, and perhaps even of her heartbreak. It had only begun to show in the years since her husband had passed away.

She felt that she had acquired a lot of new things since her husband died. The most surprising, though it shouldn’t have been, was that her little girls were now almost young women. They seemed to transform overnight, though it felt like only a few short months ago that they were just little things running around the house, tormenting their nanny or stealing treats from the cook and then hiding in the pantry to eat their plunder.

And then she remembered the evenings where she would sit with them until they fell asleep, crying themselves into exhaustion because they missed their father so much. Anastasia and Drizella had cried so many tears for their father, there had been no room for her own. Lady Tremaine had to be strong for her girls and do whatever she could to make them happy again. Her heart ached a little for those days. She wondered if it had been a good idea to leave them in London, but she knew if they were going to learn their lesson, it was the right thing to do, though she hoped keeping them at home hadn’t decreased their chances of a match with Lady Hackle’s boys.

As she looked around the room, she didn’t see any faces she didn’t recognize. It was the usual set of lords and ladies, and she had to wonder if this mysterious man Mrs. Bramble had been going on about actually existed. Perhaps it was all just downstairs talk. If there was indeed any talk downstairs at all.