When a beautiful but mysterious stranger offers nineteen-year-old Evelyn a fresh start, away from her tough life on the streets, desperation sees any initial doubts overruled by curiosity of the heart. But after arriving at Edenhall Park - an ancien...
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Trailing my fingers down the front of the dress I'd picked out, I could barely bring myself to look at the stranger staring back at me from the ornate, gold-framed mirror. Crafted from delicate green and black shimmering lace, its knee-length cut was reminiscent of a long-gone period when glamour and prohibition went hand in hand and shaped my non-existent figure into something more womanly than the plain, athletic form it usually took. Whoever these clothes had belonged to, wherever they had come from, Amelia was right; they were perfect for me.
A gentle knock at the door was followed by a now familiar voice. "Evelyn, may I come in?"
Twisting the brass door handle, the sight of Amelia on the other side snatched the breath from my chest. Her gold, sparkling gown was floor-length and fitted snugly to her petite frame. Even in heels, she stood a couple of inches shorter than me.
"You look divine," she beamed, wrapping one arm around me in a fleeting hug as she balanced a tray carrying two glasses in the other.
"I wasn't sure what to wear," I muttered, taken aback by her affectionate greeting.
"Well then, I must compliment your natural flair for fashion," she smiled, setting down the gilt metal tray on the dressing table.
Having washed my hair twice while I bathed, I had left it to dry naturally in loose curls down my back while I explored the alien surroundings. A large silver box on the dressing table had caught my eye. Inside, the costume jewellery, cosmetics, and plethora of sweet, floral perfumes it contained proving too much for me to ignore.
By the time Amelia's gentle knock rattled against the door, I'd tentatively painted my face using some of the make-up I recognised from having watched my mother apply hers. A pair of emerald green earrings hung from my ears, their sparkling colour conjuring up a mental image of Amelia's hypnotic gaze as I pushed them through my lobes and winced at the sharp sting of re-opening piercings that hadn't seen jewellery for months.
"Will this do?" I asked, casting another quick look at my reflection and tugging the bodice of the dress up.
"You'll be the belle of the ball," Amelia grinned, catching my eye in the mirror. "Now come, you must find some shoes. Everyone will be arriving for dinner shortly."
Clapping her hands together, she sashayed over to the giant wardrobes dominating one side of the room. After barely a couple of seconds, she turned and held out a pair of dark green, velvet heels. Her mouth curled gently in one corner, like an artist who'd finally decided upon the perfect finishing touch to their latest masterpiece.
"These will be perfect," she muttered, "Here, lean on me."
Hitching her gold dress up at the knee, she crouched and took hold of my left ankle. As she gently guided my foot into the shoe, the soft warmth of her palm reminded me once again of the power of human touch. My skin ignited under her loose grip, my heart skipping a beat at how easily she seemed able to touch me. How comfortably her tactile nature seemed to fit with her persona.
