Waiting for us at the top of the stairs is the rest of the female staff, all standing around, confused. Lady Anna drags all of us up to one of the large, mostly unused rooms in the house. Inside are hastily set-up seats and mirrors. Old gowns of the Lady of the house, as well as Lady Anna, are scattered over couches and chairs haphazardly. Lady Welch stands among the chaos, smiling softly.
"We thought it might be nice for all of us to get ready together."
We servants are flabbergasted; this is like a dream, beyond anything. Her face falters at our lack of reaction—until Amber and Grace, as well as some of the other maids, let out high-pitched squeals. I can't help laughing as the chaos only intensifies as everyone goes to work.
I walk over to Anna and start to work on her hair first, and, at her request, leave it uncharacteristically down. It suits her fantastically, and I work at pinning some strands back so it won't be too in her face. I catch her watching me in the mirror.
"Are you pleased?" She asks, obviously trying to cover the hope in her eyes and make the question casual. I can't help but smile at her.
"I am. This is all extraordinary. I know many of the maids—and us others—will remember this for a long, long time."
She can't contain her grin, but quickly becomes focused, looking at me. I feel almost uncomfortable under her assessing gaze, until it breaks and she is grinning once again.
"I know just the dress for you. I'd be so very pleased if you'd wear it."
Smiling good-naturedly, I nod, but I am unprepared for her grabbing me and making me sit down where she once was.
"Oh! My lady, wait—"
"No, no, you sit. I'm going to treat you, although you'll have to forgive me. I am nowhere near as talented as yourself."
I don't even have the opportunity to object before she is working away.
—
It's an hour later that the dance starts, and all the women of the house look positively wonderful. All have gone with unrestricted looks—simple braids or pinned updos. Though the old dresses do not fit perfectly, Adah and I managed to pin, tuck, or add fabric until they looked tailor-made for each woman.
Adah was working on some of the younger maids' hair when Lady Welch approached me.
"You look after my daughter, yes?"
"Yes, your ladyship."
"She talks about you often—many good things."
"I'm very glad she is happy with my performance, and I am honored to be working here."
She smiled a soft smile at me, similar in nature to Adah—except less outspoken. I can see why they get along.
Also, at one point in the course of the project, Anna found flowers—ordered specifically for Christmas—which she insisted would look lovely in people's hair. She was right. With some tweaking, the flowers are woven into hair, or woven into crowns on top. Even Mrs. Hobbs has a white sprig of flowers tucked into her tight bun.
Delighted at my quick work with the flowers, Lady Anna grabbed fabric and danced, it flowing behind her as she sang carols. By the end of the hour, I am laughing and already in high spirits.
Amber and Grace practice waltzing with some of the other maids, bowing and curtsying in exaggerated motions, which sets them all laughing. Grace poses in front of them, her flower crown already crooked on her head.
"Do I look like a lady now?"
Without looking up or missing a beat, Adah's voice comes from the other side of the room:
"You look like trouble."
Grace protests, but her grin gives her away, as laughter lights up the room. Even Mrs. Hobbs lets out a quiet snort. Adah smiles, pins for hair in her mouth as her hands work, deftly braiding.
The warmth of the laughter drives the chill from the old room, bringing it to life. Perfume colours the air, mixing with the smell of flowers and the rich food aromas that drift from upstairs. I look around and think that this will probably be considered the best day of many of these ladies' lives.
Lady Anna has an eye for fashion, and though I try to insist it is too much, she puts me in an exquisite white dress, complete with lace and jeweled detailing. When I look at myself in the mirror, it feels as though I am a different person—and yet fundamentally myself.
Lady Anna sneaks up behind me while I admire the dress, tucking a sprig of something sweet-smelling in my bodice.
"There. Perfect."
I want so badly to be able to push her away, to protect my heart. But I've never had a little sister, and some part of me feels fiercely protective of this kind, bright girl.
We make our way down as a giggling group to the great hall, where everything is set up.
After a heated debate filled with laughter and hushed excitement, I volunteer to get the men from downstairs, urged on by all the rushing.
I practically tumble down the stairs and burst into the servants' hall, where they all sit waiting. Aleksi spots me and stands abruptly, almost knocking over his chair. The other men stand too, but a beat later. Even though some of the men shoot him questioning looks, his eyes never leave my face.
My rush of joy and adrenaline from being with the ladies has faded, and now, standing in front of all of them, their eyes trained on me, I find myself stalling. I tamp down any embarrassment and keep my chin high, saying simply:
"It's starting."
It's all it takes for them to rush past me in anticipation, up the stairs. I feel some of their eyes as they pass me, but do nothing to acknowledge it.
Mr. Stephens follows behind the group, muttering about impropriety.
The only one left is Aleksi, unmoved. He is wearing casual clothes again, but not like the last times. This time he wears a crisp white shirt with a collar, and someone—I'm suspecting Mr. Stephens—has managed to get him to put on a tie, though loosely.
"Your hair," is all he says.
I self-consciously bring my hand up to the curls, down for once, save for a few strands. I never usually wear it this way—not anymore—but caved at Lady Anna's request. She tried, but failed, to put it up and settled for weaving flowers and putting in a few small braids.
"Lady Anna did it."
This seems pointless to state, but I feel somehow defensive. He stares for a few more seconds—making me fidget under his gaze. What is he seeing? Do I look silly? I feel heat rising to my face, but he stops me from fretting too much by clearing his throat.
"Um, suppose we should go up?"
His voice seems tight, a little too formal. He has to swallow several times to make the words come out at all. But at least it breaks this strange stare-off.
"Yes—yes, let's."
We laugh a bit awkwardly and make our way up the stairs towards the party.
When we emerge from the stairwell, the two groups are staring at each other, whispering.
There are muffled whistles among the men, and one of the stable boys gasps, "Is that really Hobbs?"
"You'll get smacked if she hears you," someone responds, and they all collapse into giggles.
The women are no better. I can't help but laugh, and I catch Aleksi looking at me. I smile at him, sharing a knowing look.