Glamour

“Tighter please, Molly.”

The maid obliged, gripping the corset laces firmly in her hands and pulling to either side. Emily allowed herself a small grin as she watched her reflection, her waist disappearing into nothingness. The pressure of the coutil and steel wrapping itself around her was a kind of comfort. It reminded her that she was still beautiful, still young and able to make the sacrifice. Beauty was pain, and it was a price she was willing to pay.

Her waist sufficiently contained, she nodded a perfunctory thank-you to her maid and turned around to her bed. With numerous gowns and petticoats stretched out before her, she now faced the task of deciding which one to wear to her evening with a friend of her father’s. From what she had heard, he was some stodgy banker whose primary interest was something interminably boring like trust funds or the stock market. She hadn’t really been listening when he told her, the faded water rings on the desk being far more interesting.

She had also heard there were talks of a match-up between the two of them. Hopefully this arrangement could be avoided.

“The peach moiré, I believe,” she said finally, gesturing to a silk gown at the foot of her bed. Molly dutifully gathered up both it as well as a set of flounced, embroidered petticoats to go underneath. After tightening her garters one last time, Emily stepped carefully into the petticoats, then the rustling overskirt, and waited quietly while Molly looped the pearl buttons of the bodice closed behind her back.

“Would you like any jewelry, miss?”

“Yes,” Emily said, mulling it over for a brief moment. “Fetch me the box.”

As Molly swished out of the room and down the hall, Emily turned to look in the mirror again.

She was a lovely girl. Light brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin. It was easy to see why that stupid banker man wanted her; she would be quite a prize. Emily supposed she should feel proud of that, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. After all, it wasn’t exactly her fault that she had been born beautiful. She could have just as easily been hideous, the kind of girl who would only be grudgingly introduced to suitors and kept locked away in some high, cold tower.

She also didn’t want to lose what little freedom she had as an unwed young woman. Going to balls and flirting with the eligible bachelors she found there (the ones who exceeded her standards, anyway) was her primary amusement these days. It was her escape. The thought of being a housewife and mother was unbearable. That wasn’t why she had been born at all, contrary to what everyone around her said.

“Life isn’t all parties and glamour, Emily,” her mother had chided repeatedly. “There will come a time when…”

She always stopped listening then. As far as she was concerned, that’s all there was: getting dressed up, staying out late, and flaunting what she had before it vanished. If there was anything else, she didn’t want to know. It was of no importance to her if she never had to get married, have a child, or live a quiet, humble life. Save those things for other girls. She would take all the parties, gowns, and men they cast off and have a grand old time.

Molly returned then, carrying the wooden jewelry box under her arm. She placed it on the dressing table, opening it as Emily walked over. Jewels and gems winked up at her from within, threaded with the glint of gold and silver.

“I think the pearls would look lovely, miss,” Molly offered delicately. Emily picked up the strand, held it to her neck and appraised her reflection. They did look nice, but were far too subdued, too docile. She replaced them and instead pulled out a diamond pendant and slipped it onto a black silk ribbon.

“If you please,” she said, turning her back to Molly. Obediently, the maid tied the ribbon in a bow around Emily’s neck. Turning to look at herself one last time, she smiled broadly. The necklace was the first thing people would notice, showy and prominent as it was. It was exactly the sort of thing her mother and father would disapprove of, but she didn’t mind in the least.

Someone had to set a bad example, and if it would keep her from being some desperate housewife, she was perfectly content to fill the role.