Thorns

Chapter 2

Mother, you're choking me!" Eliza gasped, gripping the vanity, "Please, loosen it! I can hardly breath, and it's doing little to help my figure!" She stared with wide eyes at her corset, expecting the tight material to rip at any breath. As soon as Eliza had agreed to attend the ball, she had known that her mother would be helping her dress, and this was something she had dreaded. Obviously, it had been far too long since this was last done; Eliza had forgotten what her mother's assistance entailed.

Mrs. Fletch stared at the girl in the mirror, frowning a bit, "You're fine, Eliza! Hanna, pass me her petticoat. She mustn't catch cold while driving... Sit up straight and you'll stop being stabbed. Look at Betty; her stay is just fine while she's sitting correctly. Much better. Arms up, then!"

Eliza gave a huff, closing her eyes and lifting her arms. There was far too much effort put into her attire already, and that didn't include her hair! Why must her petticoat be so stuffy? It was too much work for a dance, but there was no way to argue. Opening her mouth would cause nothing but a headache, and that would cause Mrs. Fletcher to lose her mind.

"Now for the over dress... Where is it, Hanna? Didn't you wash it? No, not the pink one! Her white one! This is the first proper ball Eliza's been to!"

Eliza glanced at her mother, "I've already been to a proper ball, mother."

"But this is your debut! You hadn't been of age until now, Eliza, and now you can have a suitor!" Mrs. Fletcher had snatched the dress from Hanna and held it to her daughter, nodding happily until she saw Eliza's detest, "What?"

"It's low, mother. Far too low; it's going to show more of my breast than I've let be seen since I was a babe."

"You hold your tongue! This is a perfectly fine dress, Eliza." 

There was no time to argue before Eliza was being stuffed into the white gown, the girl choking against her corset and the material. It felt like ages since they had purchased the fabric, and now Eliza was regretting every moment of it. Blinking furiously, Eliza stared at herself in the mirror, "Mother."

"Yes?"

"Do I have to wear this?"

Mrs. Fletcher frowned at her, looking her up and down and giving a curt nod, "It is perfectly fine, Eliza. Now, sit down and let Hanna do your hair. Hanna, ignore her complaints; I'm going to check on Betty and Isabelle." 

She left Eliza to Hanna's mercy, the younger woman stiffly lowering into the chair, "It's too tight, Hanna. Please loosen it. I fear that I will grow faint and collapse before reaching the ball."

Her maid shook her head, sighing as she began to brush out Eliza's hair, "Your mother will find out and scold you... And it is only for one night, Miss Eliza. You will be fine." She pulled a few strands out, beginning to curl them and pin them, "You look gorgeous, Miss Eliza. I do believe your mother will be pleased... Here, I've your gloves."

Scowling, Eliza pulled up on the delicate fabric, "Maybe I should remain home." She murmured, "I'd much rather be alone here than suffocating in public." Glancing at herself in the mirror, she gave a sigh of defeat. As hard as she tried, the dress wouldn't go any higher and she was left exposing herself to the world, "Hanna, please do something about the dress?"

Her maid glanced at her before retrieving a simple piece of lace and assisting Eliza in stuffing it at the front of her bodice, bringing the neckline just a few inches higher. She was much more comfortable, though Eliza would have preferred a different dress entirely.

As much as she hated to admit it, though, she did look beautiful. How prideful of her, thinking this highly of herself when the only difference was a dress. If she thought this way of herself then what would people say when they saw her?