Izzy hadn't undressed in front of another female since tenth-grade gym class, and she didn't like it any better now. Sarah, however, seemed to have no problem with it. She must have been used to seeing her "ladies" in their all-togethers. Well, that was fine for her, Izzy guessed, if it was the sort of thing people of 1812 generally did, but Izzy felt like a sideshow.
Sarah helped her off with her shirt and pants, her fingers grazing Izzy's bare skin. Suppressing a giggle was tough, since she was so ticklish. Izzy told her she didn't need help with undressing, but Sarah insisted it was her duty to see to it Lady Isabella was taken care of. Great.
When Sarah reached for Izzy's underwear, there was a scuffle. Her bra strap snapped, leaving a painful red mark on her shoulder. As Sarah's hands headed south toward Izzy's granny panties, she nearly wilted. Batting away the maid's hands, Izzy screeched and ran and hid behind the headboard. There was no way another woman was undressing her down to her skin. No. Way. Now if Charles… She gasped. She shouldn't be thinking those thoughts about someone she could never have a relationship with. Would she even be here that long? Probably not. At least she hoped not. This place and time was too weird for her.
****
Charles paced across the hall. As he walked up and down the wooden planks of the floor, he stepped on the same irritating, squeaky board each time. He knew ladies needed a lot of help dressing properly, but what was taking them so long? A shriek and a thump had Charles' heart racing. What was going on in there?
He rapped his knuckle on the door. "Isabella? Sarah? Is everything all right?"
The door opened a fraction. Sarah's blue eyes peered out at him. "Your grace, we are almost ready with the first gown." The door snapped shut.
The first gown? They'd been in there for almost an hour. He paced some more. Maybe asking Isabella to do this favor for him was unwise. Maybe she wasn't up to the task.
The creak of the door had Charles whipping his head in that direction. The door was wide open. A vision in pale pink stood before him. His breath came out in a whoosh. "Oh, Isabella…"
She swallowed, gazing up at him with brown eyes so big he thought he'd drown in their depths. To see Isabella in a ladies' gown set something spinning in his heart. Comparing her now to women of his time, she was more beautiful than any one of them could ever dream to be.
"Charles, is it… am I…?"
He wasted no time walking the three feet that separated them. "You are exquisite." A blush, pink as a sunset, colored her cheeks, enticing Charles to rub her face lightly with his thumb. Her skin was as soft as new rose petals. "You, my dear, will be the belle of this ball."
She glanced down. "Oh, I don't know about that. I still don't know how to dance. Or curtsy. Or even how to walk in this silly thing."
"Don't worry about any of that. We'll figure it out."
Isabella sighed as she angled her gaze back toward the bed. "Well, guess I'd better try on the second one."
Charles ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't finished admiring her in the first one yet. "Second one. Yes." Why had he purchased so many dresses? It was going to be a long day. The door clicked shut again as he retreated to the hall, retracing the same fifteen steps up, fifteen steps back, over and over. Squeak. Squeak.
What would happen when he arrived at the ball with Isabella on his arm? She was beautiful, yes, but no one would know her. They were a nosy lot, the ton, with their questions either asked directly or whispered loudly enough for others to hear. How would he and Isabella explain her parentage, connections, and background? He shook his head. It would behoove him to find out these things for himself, and then he'd be better armed to deflect the curiosity of his peers at the ball.
Charles knew if Isabella was tried and found lacking, the ton would pepper her with so many questions the poor girl would beg to be released. He'd seen it happen all too often to newcomers who weren't a part of the accepted ton. Many times they arrived at the ball, wide-eyed and enthralled, only to leave early, disheartened and beaten down. But Charles was determined not to let that happen to Isabella. After finding her in his closet under strange circumstances, he felt he was to be her champion, her protector. As strong willed as she seemed, he wasn't sure she could withstand the often-venomous tongues of the ton.
****
"Ouch! What are you doing?" Izzy rubbed her side where a pin had jabbed her skin through the dress material.
"Please forgive me, my lady, I wasn't aware of your movement. I don't wish to jab you with the pins."
"It's all right." Izzy sighed and positioned her arms and legs the way the seamstress instructed. This was taking six lifetimes! If she were home, she could have done half a day's work by now. She turned her head and glanced out the window. If she were home, she wouldn't be seeing the lush green fir trees through her bedroom window; she'd see the neighbor's ugly, rotted picket fence and the junked-out car in his front yard.