The Violet Dress

Jem woke up with a jolt. She knew she slept for a long time from the grogginess she felt. She stretched, hearing all of her joints pop. Someone began walking slowly towards the drawing room. That's when she remembered. 

The Earl. 

She jumped to her feet, heat rising to her cheeks, and tried stretching out the wrinkles that had formed on her dress as quickly as she could as her father arrived at the doorway. He had his hands behind his back. 

"Father, I-"

He held out a hand to silence her. 

"No matter. The Earl has left already."

She saw the hand held a letter. 

"For you."

Jem was filled with a newfound energy and elation.

"It must be Margaret!"

She grabbed it and quickly tore the seal to read the message inside. It was an invitation. 

 

Ms. Jemima,

    I wish for you to accompany me to a dinner party. The details are written below. I would be most honored by your stimulating company. 

         Yours, etc.,

              Lord Charles Cornwallis 

 

As promised, the date, time, and address of the dinner party were specified immediately following the Earl's message. Shaking, Jem looked up from the letter at her father. 

"Have you... But you could not really... Have you given your consent?"

"You had to have known I would if asked," he sighed.

"Did he truly ask on his own, or did you pressure him into-"

"I will not have my honor questioned so flagrantly Jemima. He developed an interest in you on his own accord."

She could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"I do not want him...for me to..."

"Jem, give the gentleman a chance. It will benefit our family and, more importantly, ensure a comfortable future for you." 

Jem could not deny the love that laced her father's words, despite their implications. However, she still could not appreciate what he was trying to do. 

"I do not care for comfort."

He almost winced at how her tone stung. 

"I do not care for him."

He looked to the floor and spoke so quietly Jem almost could not understand what he said. 

"Bess will accompany you to the market for a new dress. I'll leave the money with her."

He left. Jem sat back in the chair, wishing she could sink into it forever. 

The next morning, Bess helped Jem dress to go to the market. The streets were lively, with dozens of people walking to and fro, carriages with their horses' shoes stomping on the cobblestone, and the shopkeepers shouting out offers and prices from their booths and windows. They stopped at a small shop that Jem often went to for dresses. The seamstress there fabricated dresses in the styles that Jem favored. 

She took her time eyeing the various dresses, until her eyes landed on the one she knew she wanted the most: a shiny, violet dress with white ruffles, a big violet bow in the back, and bell shaped sleeves. Bess agreed that the dress was a lovely color. The seamstress promised to work on it all night and the next day so it would be ready for her by early evening. Sooner than Jem wished, the sun fell and rose once more, and she returned to the seamstress to pick up her dress. 

Bess helped her into a warm bubble bath, into her new dress, and helped her curl her hair with a hot iron rod. Jem still hadn't made up her mind as to whether she would allow herself to enjoy herself during the festivities or not. 

"Bess, do you think me a fool for agreeing to this?" Jem suddenly asked her. 

"You desire my honest opinion, m'lady?"

"Yes, I do."

Bess thought for a moment on the subject as she sprayed perfume along Jem's neck. 

"I think you a wise young lady. Going prevents you from completely breaking your father's heart. It also gives you the opportunity to discourse a list of grievances with a reliability and with evidence, if you wish to do so."

"I suppose you are right," Jem sighed. 

A thought hit her suddenly. 

"Perhaps I can feign sickness!"

Bess chuckled. 

"That would be quite dishonest and dishonorable of you, m'lady."

Jem knew this to be true. Bess heard Jem's father calling her name and she ran down the stairs, leaving Jem to stare at her reflection. Her hair had been curled, pinned up into another bun, and weaved with pearls. She wore matching pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Her lips were tinted a magenta. Her eyelashes had been curled with a spoon. Blush had been powdered on her cheeks. She stood up and practiced her curtesy. Everything was set. Bess called her from downstairs. 

When Jem reached the bottom of the stairs, Bess curtsied and turned to retire to her slave quarters. At the door stood Earl Cornwallis dressed in shimmering navy blue attire, a large embroidered black cape that rested on one shoulder and draped down to his calves, and had his hair neatly combed back and tied with a black ribbon. Jem couldn't escape the blush that crept onto her cheeks. This man looked more handsome than ever. She stepped over to him and curtsied. 

"My, Lord."

He bowed in response. The Earl then stood there, staring at her. He was not sure if it was the heat of the night or if it was her who made him feel warmth and almost made him blush with her. With swift grace, he took her delicate hand into his and gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. 

"You look ravishing," he said, his warm breath tickling her hand. 

There it was again. That voice that made her melt and lower her defenses. She cursed internally at herself for being swayed by him again. She struggled to coat her words with bitterness. 

"My Lord, please, I beg you do not refer to me with such language." 

His eyes widened as he realized that what he said was not appropriate for a gentleman who had just begun courting a lady. 

"Forgive me, I meant to say you look stunning." He swallowed and cleared his throat before trying again, "That's to say...you look lovely."

"Thank you."

He extended his arm to her. 

"Shall we?" 

She locked her arm around his and they started walking towards the carriage together. Nervousness settled into her as she realized that it was going to be a lot harder to hate him than she had thought.