"Look at yourself, Maudie."
Honora Fairburn's voice cut through the dressing room. Maudie slowly turned toward the mirror. Her mother stepped closer and brushed a finger across one of the freckles on her daughter's cheek.
"Do you really intend to go to the Duke's ball looking like this?"
Maudie lowered her eyes. "I have a gown, Mother."
"A gown? Do you honestly believe a gown can make a man overlook your face?"
Behind them, Ottilie giggled. "She should stay home. At least then she won't embarrass this noble family."
Maudie's fingers tightened around the ribbon she was holding. Her brother, Peregrine, glanced at her and smirked. "Mother is right. What wealthy man would choose her when there are dozens of beautiful women waiting for the Duke tonight?"
Maudie said nothing. She had learned long ago that defending herself only gave them another reason to laugh.
Honora turned toward her. "You wanted to attend so badly."
"Yes, Mother."
"Then earn it."
She dropped a thick bundle of papers on the table. "The west wing must be inspected. The servants' inventory must be checked. The dining hall must be prepared, and the flower arrangements must be finished before you leave."
Maudie stared at the list. "All of that?"
"All of it."
"But the ball begins before sunset."
"Then you had better work quickly."
For a moment, Maudie looked toward the doorway. She could already hear the servants preparing the carriages outside. Tonight was the grandest event of the season. The wealthiest duke in the kingdom had invited every eligible noblewoman to his estate, and for once, Maudie had received an invitation too.
She had secretly prepared a simple gown, nothing like Ottilie's magnificent silk dress, but it was hers. She had even sewn the loose ribbon herself. Her father would have wanted her to go. *Never let them convince you that your face determines the worth of your heart.* Those had been his words, but he had been gone for three years, and without him, no one stopped them anymore.
"Yes, Mother."
"Good girl."
Maudie walked out. She didn't know that before the night was over, she would miss the Duke's grand ball entirely — that she would give it up to save a helpless old woman, though she had no idea yet who that woman was, or who would be watching her when she did.
"Maudie, come here."
Maudie stopped halfway across the breakfast room. Her mother was seated near the window, examining a letter, while Ottilie sat beside her admiring herself in a small silver mirror.
Honora finally looked up. "Closer. Sometimes I wonder if you were truly born into this family."
"Mother—"
"What? Look at her. No one else in our family has a face like that."
Maudie lowered her eyes. Her freckles had been the subject of such remarks for as long as she could remember. Her mother had never called them pretty. Her sisters had never called them charming. To them, they were a defect, a flaw that announced itself before Maudie even had the chance to speak.
Ottilie leaned closer. "Perhaps Father found you somewhere and brought you home."
The servants nearby became very quiet.
Maudie forced a small smile. "You've said that before."
"And you still haven't found it funny," Ottilie teased.
Honora sighed impatiently. "That is enough. Maudie, take these instructions to the kitchen and make certain the luncheon preparations are completed."
"Yes, Mother." She reached for the papers. Then her mother's expression softened slightly — not with affection, with calculation.
"Your sister's engagement announcement is being made this afternoon. I expect everything to be perfect."
Maudie glanced toward Cressida. Her eldest sister sat proudly at the table, wearing a magnificent sapphire ring. Cressida's engagement had become the pride of the Fairburn household. She was beautiful, graceful, and engaged to a respectable duke. Honora had spent weeks telling everyone how fortunate her daughter was.
Maudie had helped prepare every detail. She had arranged flowers, checked the dining room, assisted the dressmaker, and even helped Cressida with her veil. Yet when Maudie entered the room wearing her simple dress, Cressida looked her over.
"You really should do something about those freckles."
"My father liked them," Maudie said, touching her cheek.
Cressida smiled. "Father liked everything about you. That was his weakness."
The words hurt more than Maudie expected. Her father had been the only person who never made her feel defective. Before his death, he would sit beside her whenever the others mocked her. "Never measure yourself by a mirror, Maudie," he had once told her. "A face may attract attention, but character determines whether that attention was deserved." She believed him. After his death, believing him became harder.
Cressida's wedding eventually arrived. The estate overflowed with guests. Honora cried with pride as her eldest daughter left for her husband's estate. Cressida embraced everyone. When she reached Maudie, she whispered, "Don't worry. Perhaps you'll find someone who doesn't mind the freckles." Then she smiled for the guests and climbed into her carriage.
Maudie watched it disappear. Ottilie stepped beside her. "Don't look so sad. At least one of us managed to become marriageable." Then she walked away laughing.
Months passed. Cressida's marriage became another source of pride for the family. Ottilie became Honora's new hope. Then, one morning, a messenger arrived with an announcement that sent excitement through every noble household in the county: Duke Radford Vane was holding a grand ball. Every unmarried noblewoman of suitable rank was invited. Rumor claimed the Duke was finally prepared to choose a bride.
Honora immediately turned toward Ottilie. "You shall have the finest gown in the county." She glanced at Maudie. "And you — you have work."
For the next few days, Ottilie's preparation consumed the household: silk, jewelry, shoes, hair appointments. Maudie watched quietly. She knew she had received the same invitation. She also knew no one intended to help her attend. So she secretly prepared her own gown. It was modest, but clean and elegant.
Then, on the morning of the ball, Honora summoned her. "You will oversee the west wing."
Maudie stared at the enormous list placed before her — and after that, the servants' inventory, then the flower arrangements, then the dining hall.
"Mother, the ball begins before sunset."
Honora smiled. "Then you'd better work quickly."
Maudie understood. She was being delayed deliberately. Still, she bowed her head. "Yes, Mother."
Hours later, she finished. She changed into her simple gown and hurried outside. The carriage was already leaving.
"Wait."