The Shadowed Heart

“I don’t know.” The girl twisted her fingers nervously at her waist. “But if you are his mistress—” Her mouth curved in a mischievous smile “—then you have chosen a beautiful man. Not like—”

There was the sound of footsteps outside the door and the girl jumped up.

“I must go now.” Curtsying quickly, she moved toward a door that Chiara had not noticed the night before. As the girl opened the door, Chiara caught a glimpse of a corridor. Thinking to explore, she rose, but immediately heard the key turn in the lock.

So everyone was locking her in, she thought, even the servants.

She had barely finished breakfast when the corridor door opened and Zanetta returned, followed by a plain woman wearing a severe brown gown. Several maids carrying gowns, hoops and bolts of fabric trailed after them.

The woman immediately marched up to Chiara, briefly mustered her up and said, “Take off your nightgown so that we can measure you.”

She snapped her fingers and one of the maids came running up carrying a shift. “Put this on.” She fluttered her fingers, first at the flimsy undergarment, then at Chiara. “Quickly now. I don’t have all day.”

Chiara began to protest but thought better of it. After all, if her own clothes had really been burned, she would need something to wear. She quickly exchanged the nightgown for the thin shift and the maids swarmed around her to take her measurements.

“The yellow gown.” The dressmaker gestured at the maids behind her and they came running like well-trained soldiers, carrying the gown and the necessary accoutrements.

Chiara took one look at the gown of yellow silk, the hoop and corset and stepped back. “No.”

“You’re right.” The dressmaker gave her an approving nod. “Yellow makes you look sallow. The blue one.”

The yellow silk was exchanged for pale blue satin.