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Sinclair. She turned to speak to her maid who was bustling about the room.
    “I am most pleased with your work this evening, Pansy. Thank you for convincing me this was the perfect style. You were quite correct. And I dare say the million pins you put in will ensure not a single hair dares to budge out of place.”
    “Oh, my lady, you would look lovely even if I just put your hair into two ties on the side of your head, but thank you so much for saying you’re pleased with my efforts this evening. I do think this style quite suits your beautiful face.”
    “Well I do appreciate that it feels very secure. It makes me nervous when I have to worry whether or not my hair will hold up to the activities of the evening.”
    “Are you expecting your evening to be particularly vigorous, my lady?” the maid was sceptical.
    Elizabeth laughed. “No more so than usual at a ball, Pansy. But you would be surprised how often ladies have to run to a retiring room because their coif did not withstand their exertions.”
    “Truly m’lady? Are their maids turned off that very night? I would think your mother would turn me off without a single grout if I were to allow you to leave your room without your hair being properly secured.”
    “You may be right, Pansy,” Elizabeth laughed, “but I would think it is rarely the maid’s fault. But never mind. No one could find any fault with my appearance this evening and for that I am grateful.” Seeing that the maid was about to protest her praise, Elizabeth did not allow her to speak, interrupting the attempt with her next words. “I shall now bid you a good night,” she said as she swept from the room.
    Not surprisingly, Lady Castleton was already in the foyer waiting for her. “What took you so long, my dear? You are becoming a laggard of late. Now hurry along. I have heard that it is expected to be a veritable crush this evening at the Oliver’s ball.”
    “Well, of course it will,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath. “They have the smallest ballroom in the ton .”
    “I did not hear you clearly my dear, you really ought not to mumble. Gentlemen prefer a lady who enunciates, and do not speak ill of our hosts, my darling. Gentlemen expect their wives to be sweet and kind so you must make an effort to control your tongue.”
    Elizabeth did make a colossal effort to keep herself from telling her mother exactly what she thought of all these ridiculous reminders that she was forever saying, tidbits of advice for catching a husband that Elizabeth found highly unwelcome. Smiling serenely at her mother, she thought she was already an expert at controlling her tongue. She meekly followed the countess out to the waiting carriage.
    When they arrived in front of Lady Oliver’s house Elizabeth could not help admiring the elegant lines of the building. Even though it was smaller than many of their wellborn friends’ it truly was lovely and Elizabeth quite thought that she would enjoy living in a similar place. Climbing the stairs at her mother’s side she glanced along the street and admired the architecture, not paying attention to the other guests arriving at the select invitation ball.
    “Elizabeth Marie Castleton, you need to focus,” her mother’s low, irritated whisper reached through her preoccupied thoughts and Elizabeth quickly turned her eyes to look at her mother with a polite smile. Interest she was unable to feign at this point but she could at least be polite.
    “I apologize, Mother, I was admiring the beautiful homes on this street.”
    Her mother seemed to be slightly mollified as she thought of an alarming possibility. “I do believe Lords Dunbar and Rothesay have lodgings on this street. So perhaps you might find yourself living here one day.”
    Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh over her mother’s single-minded determination. “Mayhap,” was all she would say in reply as she turned her attention to their hostess who was waiting to welcome them.
    “Thank you