She was not to attend as a female reporter with work to do. She had been asked as a guest. A man—a tall man—had sought out her company. “You are so kind, sir,” she said, her words stumbling on her tongue. “I regret, however, that when I packed my trunks, I did not plan for a ball at the French embassy.”

He beamed. “I have already communicated with a friend whose wife has a plentiful wardrobe and will be delighted to assist you.”

Men, Camilla thought. Whoever she is, her clothing won't fit me. It's too late to call a dressmaker. I have literally nothing to wear on such an evening.

But she was too touched by his eagerness to tell him how silly he was; that she, Camilla Mateusz, made even dressmakers laugh. And then she remembered that Camilla Mateusz did not exist. “Dr. Lightner, it will be my privilege.”

And privilege it was.

Two dressmakers used up two gowns to create one for Camilla. With anyone else, Camilla would have been weeping. Lady Clementine made it a party.

The maids cleverly stitched an entire ten inches to the length of one gown by using the ruffles off the other. “I feel like Cinderella,” said Camilla, laughing.

“Indeed,” said Lady Clementine, smiling. “And here are your borrowed slippers. Silver-toed. Are they not fashionable? Luckily, my feet are large for me and your feet are small for you.”

Slippers …

Was the gold slipper even now being discovered in Strat's trunk? Would Dr. Lightner arrive at Lady Clementine's shocked and heartsick, having learned that his cameraman was a thief? Was Strat even now in some dark prison, without light or air or hope?

What price revenge? thought Camilla. My soul. Strat's future. But I do not care about either one. I want Hiram Stratton to suffer, and he will.

“Now stand tall, my dear,” said Lady Clementine. “Do not slump. Dr. Lightner is halfway in love with you, and it is your splendid height that attracts him.”

“Halfway in love? With me?”

“Of course. You are as tall and strong as a pillar of Karnak, I believe he said. He is quite smitten. Of course archaeologists are a difficult group, my dear. Think twice. They are apt to be demanding, pernickety and dusty.”

Camilla laughed.

“Capitalize upon your height. Throw your shoulders back. Be tall.”

Nobody had ever instructed Camilla to do that.

Lady Clementine became very serious. “I see you are well educated and more than capable of presenting fine arguments during table discussions. Remember that ladies in search of a husband do not demonstrate brains.” Lady Clementine fixed around Camilla's throat a beautiful necklace of shimmering pearls.

In the looking glass, Camilla found, as many a girl before her, that the wearing of beautiful clothing and jewels made her lovelier and more worthy.