The excitement was thick in the air. It was Sunday morning; the towners, villagers, and nobles alike bore a smile upon their faces—each for different reasons.
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Two young ladies passed by Jeanette, their faces alight with cheer as they conversed excitedly about the forthcoming evening.
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Jeanette’s lips tipped into a smile, her thoughts pleasantly adrift with anticipation for what the night might hold. She was very much excited, if the wide smile on her lips was any indication.
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She was dressed in a mid-length blue gown, a black shawl draped over her shoulders. Her knitted bag hung loosely on her arm, and she hopped from foot to foot as she reached her destination. She knocked upon Esmeralda’s door.
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“Esme dear, someone’s at the door,” came her father’s voice from within.
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“Be right there!”
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A few seconds later, the door was unlocked and opened from the inside.
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“Jean!” Esmeralda exclaimed, and the two best friends embraced warmly before she ushered her inside.
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“Lovely morning to you, Papa and Grandpa,” Jeanette greeted the two gentlemen who were like family to her.
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“Oh, Jeanette darling,” Esmeralda’s Papa was first to reply, “how are you faring this fine morning?”
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The two men were seated in the parlour on separate couches. Grandpa, eyes closed, rested with his cane in hand, while Papa read from a book.
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“Oh, I am doing quite well,” Jeanette replied with a small smile.
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“You must be rather excited about tonight,” Grandpa added, his voice lined with age. He was wrinkled but not frail, mostly bald save for a few tufts of white hair. His resemblance to Papa was quite admirable.
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“Oh, we are!” Esmeralda chimed in cheerfully. Stepping out of the kitchen, she approached Grandpa with a cup of water and a few pills nestled in her palm. “Time to take your medications, Papa.”
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Once Grandpa had taken his pills, Esmeralda and Jeanette went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
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“What are we making this morning?” Jeanette asked, watching as Esmeralda bustled about gathering pans and ingredients.
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“Madeleines. Grandpa and Papa are quite fond of them,” Esmeralda answered.
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“Good thing I know how to make them too.”
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In these modern times, very few women knew how to prepare a decent meal. Most noblewomen deemed it beneath them to soil their hands in the kitchen and thus relied heavily upon their maids.
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Esmeralda had been taught to cook by her father, who, honouring a promise to his late wife, had chosen never to remarry but instead raise his daughter with utmost care. Jeanette’s mother, understanding that men often favoured women who could cook, had ensured her daughter acquired the skill.
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The two ladies commenced the preparation of Madeleines, chatting all the while about the evening ahead. Jeanette had dropped her knitted bag, which held her evening gown, on the dining room chair.
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“Oh, I am so thrilled. I wonder what tonight might bring,” Esmeralda squealed, her wide smile revealing her dimples.
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“I’m certain I shall catch a wealthy man’s eye this evening,” Jeanette giggled, then sighed. “What if there are too many requesting the first dance?”
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“There shall be many, indeed. You are a striking beauty,” Esmeralda teased, poking her nose.
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“Hearing that from someone far lovelier has me positively flushed,” Jeanette chuckled.
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Esmeralda paused, smiling as she admired her. Jeanette was indeed beautiful, with straight blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes that could capture any man—her face alone was enough, not to mention her figure.
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“Why are you staring at me so, Esme? Is there something on my face?” Jeanette raised a playful brow.
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“Yes, your beauty. It’s radiating,” Esmeralda replied, echoing Jeanette’s earlier compliment, and both burst into laughter.
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Half an hour later, breakfast was ready. Jeanette and Esmeralda set the table for four. Madeleines and grapefruit tea—it was a splendid repast.
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“I spoke with Jonathan. He shall arrive by the hour of six to coach the lot of you to the Duke’s mansion,” Papa announced, biting into a Madeleine.
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“Oh, thank you, Papa. That is most kind.”
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“We shall be leaving by six then,” Jeanette added. “Fashionably late, I do like it!”
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The table erupted in laughter at her jest.
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★
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Evening came, and the clock neared the half-hour mark to six. Esmeralda and Jeanette had completed their preparations, now looking like the most splendid ladies in all of Eldengale.
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Esmeralda wore an emerald-and-cream off-the-shoulder corset gown that embraced her figure with elegance. The skirt flared with poise, sweeping gracefully along the ground. Jeanette’s dress was styled identically but bore the colours of magenta and cream.
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They both wore white gloves.
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Esmeralda sat upon her bed to slip into her silver wedges, then stood to retrieve her matching emerald purse. Their makeup was tastefully minimal—Esmeralda with pink smoky eyeshadow and red rouge upon her lips, Jeanette with purple smoky eyeshadow and the same red rouge. Bold, yet elegant.
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“I suppose I am all set,” Jeanette said as she picked up her silver purse and turned to the mirror for a final look.
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“Very well then. We should be off. Jonathan shall arrive any moment.”
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The girls stepped out of the room, lifting their skirts with one hand and their purses in the other.
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Grandpa was asleep in his chamber. Papa, upon seeing them, closed his book and smiled broadly.
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“Oh dear, I believe I might suffer a stroke—so much beauty to behold at once!”
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The ladies burst into laughter, cheeks flushed at the flattery.
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“Do we truly look that good, though?” Esmeralda asked, twirling her skirt as Jeanette followed suit.
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“Are you fishing for compliments, Esme sweetie?” Papa chuckled, drawing another round of laughter—cut short by the sound of a carriage drawing near.
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“I suppose Jonathan has arrived,” Jeanette said.
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Father rose, embracing both young ladies. “Should there be any trouble, return home immediately.”
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“Yes, Papa,” they replied in unison.
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With a fond smile, Papa led them both to the door.
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