A Second Glance By Emma Rice
Lady Giselle surveyed the ballroom from her vantage point behind a curtain on the upper hallway, putting off the moment she’d actually have to walk down the sweeping staircase. The high-ceilinged room was decorated beautifully, with rich red velvet curtains held back by golden ribbons. The massive chandeliers hanging from the ceiling had been lit so that the crystals sparkled across the room and sent tiny lights dancing over the buffet tables, silver trays laden with sculpted food. Flowers beamed from every available surface. The floor had been polished to a shine and the shoes of the dancers slid almost silently across, brightly colored skirts swirling. The company, however, pulsed dully in their surroundings, smiling vaguely at each other with dazed—or simply bored—expressions, ignoring the dancing silver-robed people. “How soporific does it look tonight?” A whispering voice asked. Giselle didn’t need to look at her friend to know that her pointed nose would be scrunched and her eyes rolled back into her face. “I wouldn’t even need a pillow.” She’d given her governess carte blanche to write the invitations for her birthday party, but she hadn’t given a thought to the consequences. “The mind doctor isn’t here?” Marie asked, her normally shining face looking a little strained. “Of course he is,” Gisele grouched, crossing her arms over her chest. Her jewel-studded corset scratched at the soft underside of her arms. “Miss Rightly insists that he is good for me to talk to. Though with his knowledge of such an esoteric subject, he is of little interest to me.” “Judgment of character was never quite Miss Rightly’s forte,” Marie answered, stealing a bit of cheese from a passing server on his way from the kitchens. His blank expression never faltered. “You can only blame yourself for letting her manage the invitations.” Giselle bit back an argument as she noticed two women start up the stairs. She buried herself behind a curtain as they swept by, arms 54
