“The dress is quite lovely,” she agreed, matter-of-factly. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and she had yet to have an opportunity to wear it. It seemed a tad big in places - she had wasted during her illness - but she had managed to make it unnoticeable by adding a sash. A stopgap, surely, but until she could manage to get to the tailor, it would have to do.
“You look quite beautiful yourself. I trust the gown is to your liking?”
“It is very fine. Thank you again.” She attempted not to let her discomfort at the attention she had garnered show. The Countess had surely had only the purest of intentions. “It is far more comfortable for dancing than my previous wardrobe.” That much, at least, she could say with absolute honesty.
Genevieve nodded. “It is far lighter,” she said. Though she knew that Juliette had been raised wearing the heavy gowns, it was more a hassle to enjoy oneself in them. And, speaking of enjoying oneself, it appeared as though Lord Barnes’ youngest son was approaching them. Subtly, she nodded at his approach, bringing Juliette’s attention to it.
She noticed Juliette’s face fall into perfect neutrality. Clearly, the girl did not wish to dance, whether it was at all or with this particular gentleman, she did not know, but far be it from her to allow her ward to do something she did not desire to do. Genevieve stood just as the young man - if she recalled, he had just turned twenty-two - and curtsied.
He bowed. “Good evening, Countess. Lady Coulombe.”
“Good evening, Bartholomew,” Genevieve replied as Juliette stood to curtsy. “You seem to have perfect timing. Will you do me the honor of a dance?”
Bartholomew looked torn, but ultimately acquiesced as she knew he would. After all, the gentleman would not be rude. He held out his arm for her, which she accepted. She looked back at Juliette. “Have a good evening, Juliette.”
The brief glimpse of relief on the girl’s face was enough for Genevieve to know she had done the right thing. It was more than certainly worth a single dance.