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She stood in front of the mirror with the ghastly gown.
Mary and Edwina had protested when she chose the dress for the night of the first ball. It was an ice blue with ill-fitting shoulders, too loose in her chest and covered in fussy, itchy lace– Edwina had taken to calling it The Doily. She had other gowns which fit her perfectly– silks in rich jewel tones, beautiful shades of purple which made her look quite striking.
Striking.
Tonight was not the night to be striking. There would be other nights, after Edwina had a number of suitors, had chosen a suitor, or was engaged, when Kathani would wear the dresses made to her tastes. But these first few nights, she endeavored to look as severe as possible. Thus: dark colors to make her disappear in parlors with poor lighting, harsh off-white silk with silver accents to wash her out. Hair pulled up with no flourishes.
She would not appear unkempt and untidy nor would she appear ugly, per se. What she wanted was to appear ill-fitting and awkward– someone who was respectable and undoubtedly a lady, but carrying a harshness with edges that cut. In any case, debutantes were expected to wear light, gentle colors.
Kathani found it amusing that those light, gentle colors made her look like she was preparing to command a thousand armies. Perhaps instead of a dance card, she could carry a saber instead.
Once everyone had dismissed her as a prospect, she could relax into her rich, lustrous colors again. They reminded her of home; nothing else in England did.
Kathani stared at the dress, thinking of all the ways she could make quick modifications– tucking the sleeves in here, folding the cloth to create a dart there. There was nothing to be done about the unfortunate lace and very little she could do to shape the chest more to her advantage, but she would at least look slightly more presentable, instead of attending the ball wearing a box disguised as a gown.
Of course, Edwina caught her holding the gown to the mirror; Kathani wore an expression of distaste she could not disguise. Like the nosy little sister she was, Edwina snuck up behind her with a smile of wide-eyed innocence which Kathani did not believe for a moment.
"Are you thinking of wearing that one?" Edwina asked her a little too knowingly. "It is quite beautiful."
She smirked, having made her point. Her sister was too clever for her own good.
"No, these are for you, Bon," Kathani replied, exasperated. "We have come to London to find your husband, not mine."
They had already talked and discussed and argued this round and round on the ship; Mary and Edwina both knew she was set on her plans. They were not going to go another round again; Edwina seemed to sense this as she let it go quite easily.
"Yes, yes, you are but a dear old maid."
Edwina's eyerolls were always very heavily implied, disguised behind a tinkling laugh and floating voice. She hadn't seen the need for Kathani to wear The Doily. Why couldn't they both arrive at the first ball dressed to impress?
Kathani had made the excuse that fending off her own suitors would distract her from her real focus: to chaperone and protect Edwina. There was nothing more important than securing Edwina's happiness.
This was true; it was not the whole truth.
Tulips are lovely, but a field of tulips looks the same; Edwina was beautiful, but her temperament tended towards a serene smile and tranquil expression. It was easy for her to fade into the background if she was in a crowd full of loud, noisy people. In order to show Edwina off to her best advantage, she needed the benefit of contrast.
She had always been content to sit in a corner and read a book in the palace gardens, courtyard, or library, where there was no shortage of people who would approach her, curious about the text and eager for conversation.
A ballroom was quite the opposite, where a lady only had her looks and connections to recommend her. Her sister's calm, easy character retreated when she was in new and unfamiliar places; Edwina was already intimidated by Lady Danbury when in India, she would not have been nervous at all. Kathani could already see the scene play out before her: Edwina the charming imp, winning Lady Danbury over with an exuberant smile.
London was nothing if not unfamiliar. Her sister was already fretting, worried the ton might not like her. Mary's nerves were not making it any better.
Kathani was going to wear the beaded box. Even if it was somewhat hideous; she was here to secure Edwina and Mary's future. She knew herself and knew she could never be quiet, not when it came to Edwina's happiness. The next best thing was to hide herself in plain sight; there was nothing which intrigued men more than a beautiful woman with high spirits. They always took it as a challenge.
She was not here to be striking or a challenge.
It would only take one, at most two balls, Kathani estimated. People would stop and take notice of Edwina after they saw her graceful dancing and her refined manners. She was charming and amiable, intelligent and talented. Anyone worth anything would see her inner radiance and be drawn to her. Edwina simply needed a starting point, after which she would steadily gain confidence.
Kathani was selfish. She hoped Edwina's wedding would take place at the end of the season; Kathani wanted to spend as much time as possible with her sister and mother before she was to go back to India.
More than that, she hoped Edwina would find love– the kind of love Kathani had been lucky to see growing up. She had once wished it for herself; it was still possible to find it when she was home.
( Though she wondered if he'd be there.
He had been playful– endearing in his own brash way.
When they were nameless. Named, their respective roles will fall on them like chainmail.
She wondered if he'd see her when she stood next to Edwina.
He'd see far too much far too well.
Kathani did not think she would mind being seen.
Until being seen by him was the last thing she wanted at all. )