Tangled In Time

Pinned And Poised

The knock at the door came just as I stepped out of the bathroom, my robe tied snugly around me and my damp hair clinging to my shoulders. The faint scent of lavender soap still lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle polish of the furniture. I walked over to the door, pulling it open to find Sophie standing there, a small basket of pins and brushes in her hands.

"Good evening, Miss Felicity," she said with a shy smile, clutching the basket tightly to her chest. Her cheeks flushed pink as she stepped inside when I gestured for her to enter. "I thought I'd help you get ready for dinner."

"That's thoughtful of you," I said warmly, moving toward the vanity as Sophie set her basket down.

"Shall I dry your hair first, Miss?" she asked, reaching for a towel and brush.

I nodded and sat, feeling the gentle motion of her hands as she worked the towel through my damp curls before brushing them out. The repetitive motion was soothing, and for a while, we sat in companionable silence, the only sounds the soft bristles and the occasional rustle of her skirt. The faint clink of pins in her basket punctuated the stillness.

"Everyone's been talking about Miss Charlotte today," Sophie said after a moment, her tone light but hesitant. Her eyes flicked to mine in the mirror, cautious yet curious.

I glanced at her in the mirror, keeping my expression neutral. "Oh?"

"Yes," she continued, carefully brushing through a particularly tangled curl. "One of the maids saw her leaving the estate earlier. Said she looked... upset. Crying, even."

I nodded slightly, my gaze steady in the mirror. "I see."

"She was seen speaking to Mr. Blake before that," Sophie added, her voice lowering as though sharing a secret. "One of the gardeners said she was screaming near the front of the house. But in the end, Mr. Blake just walked away. She left not long after." Her wide eyes met mine in the reflection, curiosity shimmering beneath her soft smile. "Do you think she's left for good? She... she wasn't a very nice lady."

I said nothing, unsure how to respond without revealing too much. My thoughts swirled briefly—Charlotte's exit was inevitable, but Sophie's casual mention of Blake walking away unsettled me in ways I couldn't quite name.

Sophie hesitated, biting her lip as she smoothed a curl behind my ear. Then, with a shy glance at the floor, she said, "I much prefer you, Miss Felicity." Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her apron before returning to their task. The gesture was small, but it made my chest tighten with an unexpected mix of gratitude and unease.

"Thank you, Sophie," I said softly, meeting her gaze in the mirror with a faint smile. Her sincerity warmed me, even as the weight of her words lingered.

She brightened at my response, her cheeks colouring further. "You're welcome, Miss. I'll start pinning your hair now."

Sophie opened the wardrobe, her small hands carefully brushing aside the array of dresses Blake had provided earlier. The faint scent of cedar and fabric powder wafted into the air. "What about this one?" she asked, pulling out a sleek black dress, her eyes bright with excitement.

I stood from the vanity and approached her, taking in the gown. The bodice was fitted with a bateau neckline, the fabric smooth and rich, gleaming faintly in the fading light. As she turned it around, the back dipped into a low V-shape, ending just above the waist. A delicate bow adorned the small of the back, adding a touch of vintage charm. The skirt flared gently from the hips, flowing down to mid-calf in a graceful A-line.

"It's beautiful," I murmured, running my fingers over the soft satin. The cool fabric was like water beneath my fingertips, its elegance undeniable.

"I thought you might like it," Sophie said, her cheeks pink as she held it out for me to take. "It's elegant, but... well, a little daring, too. Perfect for you, Miss."

"Daring?" I raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror, amused by her assessment.

She fidgeted with her apron and grinned shyly. "Just a little, but in a good way. It suits you."

I laughed softly, the sound easing the lingering tension in the room. "All right, let's see how it looks."

Sophie helped me step into the dress, and then she tied it at the back. As I turned toward the mirror, I caught my breath. The fabric hugged my frame, the low back revealing just enough skin to feel sophisticated without being overly bold. The skirt moved with a soft, fluid elegance, the bow at the back adding a touch of sweetness to the otherwise sleek design.

"It's perfect," Sophie said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Her expression was radiant, her usual timidness replaced by genuine pride.

I turned slightly, catching the low back in the reflection, and smiled. "It's lovely. Thank you, Sophie."

"You'll look stunning at dinner, Miss," she said, her voice full of quiet confidence.

As I turned to face her fully, I noticed her fidget with her apron again, her gaze flickering between me and the dress. "I hope it's not too forward of me to say, Miss, but... you look happy tonight. Really happy."

Her observation struck a chord, and I blinked, unsure how to respond. Instead, I smiled again, the warmth of her words settling over me like the gentle weight of the dress itself. "Thank you, Sophie. That means a lot."

Sophie gave a small curtsy, the motion sweet and slightly clumsy. "You're welcome, Miss. I'll just finish here, and then you'll be ready."

The sound of pins clicking against each other filled the air as she worked, her hands deftly securing my curls. The room felt lighter somehow, the soft scent of the cedar wardrobe blending with the faint lavender of my robe, a quiet harmony that mirrored the calm before whatever awaited me downstairs.

Finally, Sophie stepped back, her cheeks flushed with the pride of a job well done. "There," she said softly. "You're ready. And Miss Felicity? I hope tonight is as lovely as you look."

I met her gaze, touched by her sincerity. "Thank you, Sophie," I said again, meaning it more than ever as I turned toward the door.