“Their coats are red, so I should make sure my gown doesn’t clash with red,” Flora mused, off in her own world of modistes and fashion plates. “I would hate to form an unattractive picture while I’m dancing.” Then she gasped. “Henry will allow me to go, won’t he?”

“He’ll have to come himself. This is one occasion when I doubt Father will allow him to plead illness—or any other excuse. You are, however, on your own when it comes to persuading him that you need a new ball gown. He’ll insist that since the ball is to welcome newcomers, none of them will have seen any of your old gowns, and I’m afraid I can’t disagree. Don’t you have a lovely white gown? That would show well against the red uniforms. Since there’s hardly any time, you certainly wouldn’t be the only one without a new gown.”

I didn’t have any ball gowns at all. I wondered if I was expected, as a chaperone, to dress for the ball. I doubted I could count on Lord Henry’s knowledge of society’s rules for that. I thought I might be able to consult Lady Elinor on the subject, but I didn’t want to sound like I was angling to get a new gown. I was sure Flora would interpret it that way, no matter what I said.

I could hardly believe it when Lady Elinor then said, “As it is, I hope there will be enough time for Verity to get a gown made. The invitations haven’t gone out yet, so you’ll have a head start with the modiste. I’ll make an appointment for you with one I know. You may have to go to her studio as all these travel restrictions will make life difficult for her. She’ll know what’s appropriate for a chaperone these days. In my time, they were all bitter old hags, not lovely young ladies like you.”

Elinor and Flora talked a while longer about the latest styles, until Elinor said, “Oh my, it’s getting late. You should be getting home, but you must visit me again.”

As soon as we were in the carriage, Flora said, “I don’t know what Aunt Elinor was up to choosing that book, but don’t get any ideas. It doesn’t work that way in real life.”

“Do you mean your uncle isn’t keeping his mad wife in the attic?” I replied, perhaps more sharply than I should have.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she snapped. “Henry may be eccentric, but he wouldn’t go that far in doing something that would disgrace his family.”