"Do I?" Henry asked quickly, panic rising in her eyes. She wanted to look perfect. As perfect as she could, at least, with what graces God had bestowed upon her. She desperately wanted to show Dunford she could be the kind of woman he'd want by his side here in London. She had to prove to him—and to herself—that she could be more than a farm girl.

"Of course not," Belle said reassuringly. "Mama and I never would have let you buy this gown had it not looked perfectly enchanting on you. My cousin Emma wore violet at her debut. It shocked some, but, as Mama said, white makes Emma look yellow. Better to defy tradition than to look like a pot of custard."

Henry nodded as Belle did up the buttons at the back of her gown. She tried to turn around to look in the mirror, but Belle put a gently restraining hand on her shoulder, saying, "Not yet. Wait until you can see the full effect."

Belle's maid Mary spent the next hour carefully arranging her hair, curling it here and teasing it there. Henry waited in agonized suspense. Finally Belle popped a pair of diamond earbobs on her ears and draped a matching necklace around her throat.

"But whose are these?" Henry asked in a surprised voice.

"Mine."

Henry immediately reached up to her ears to remove the jewelry. "Oh, but I couldn't."

Belle pulled her hand back down. "Of course you can."

"But what if I lose them?"

"You won't."

"But what if I do?" Henry persisted.

"Then it will by my fault for having lent them to you. Now be quiet and take a look at our handiwork." Belle smiled and turned her around to face the mirror.

Henry was stunned into silence. Finally she whispered, "Is that me?" Her eyes seemed to sparkle in tune with the diamonds, and her face glowed with innocent promise. Mary had swept her thick hair into an elegant French twist and then pulled feathery tendrils out to curl mischievously around her face. These wisps glowed gold in the candlelight, lending her an almost ethereal air.

"You look magical," Belle said with a smile.

Henry stood slowly, still unable to believe the reflection in the glass was really hers. The silver threads in her dress caught the light when she moved, and as she walked across the room, she shimmered and sparkled, looking not quite of this world, almost too precious to touch. She took a deep breath, trying to control some of the heady feelings rushing through her. She had never known, never dreamed she could feel beautiful. And she did. She felt like a princess— like a fairy princess with the world at her feet. She could conquer London. She could glide across the floor even more gracefully than the women with rollers for feet. She could laugh and sing and dance until dawn. She smiled and hugged herself. She could do anything.

She even thought she could make Dunford fall in love with her. And that was the headiest feeling of all.

The man who occupied her thoughts was presently waiting downstairs with Belle's husband John and their good friend Alexander Ridgely, the Duke of Ashbourne.

"So tell me," Alex was saying as he swirled some whiskey around in a glass. "Who exactly is this young woman I'm supposed to champion this evening? And how did you manage to get yourself a ward, Dunford?"

"Came with the title. It was even more of a shock than the barony, to tell the truth. Thank you, by the way, for coming by to lend your support. Henry hasn't been out of Cornwall since she was ten or so, and she's terrified at the prospect of a London season."

Alex immediately pictured a meek, retiring miss and sighed. "I'll do my best."

John caught his expression, grinned, and said, "You'll like this girl, Alex. I guarantee it."

Alex arched a brow.

"I'm serious." John decided to pay Henry the highest of compliments by saying she reminded him of Belle, but then he remembered he was speaking to a man who was as besotted with his wife as John was with his own. "She's rather like Emma," John said instead. "I'm certain the two of them will get along quite famously."

"Oh, please," Dunford scoffed. "She's nothing like Emma."

"Pity for her, then," Alex said.

Dunford shot him an annoyed look.

"Why don't you think she's like Emma?" John asked mildly.

"If you had seen her in Cornwall, you'd know. She wore breeches all the time and managed a farm, for God's sake."

"I find your tone hard to discern," Alex said. "Was that supposed to make me admire the girl or scorn her?"

Another scowl from Dunford. "Just beam approvingly in her general direction and dance with her once or twice. As much as I loathe the way society panders to you, I'm not above using your position to ensure her success."

"Anything you wish," Alex said affably, ignoring his friend's caustic comments. "Although don't think I'm doing this for you. Emma said she'd have my head if I didn't help Belle out with her new protégé,"

"As well you should," Belle said pertly, entering the room in a cloud of blue silk.

"Where is Henry?" Dunford asked.

"Right here." Belle stepped aside to let Henry enter.

All three men looked at the woman in the doorway, but they all saw different things.

Alex saw a rather attractive young lady with a remarkable air of vitality in her silver eyes.

John saw the woman he'd come to like and admire tremendously this past week, looking rather fetching and grown-up in her new gown and coiffure.

Dunford saw an angel.

"My God, Henry," he breathed, taking an involuntary step toward her. "What happened to you?"

Henry's face crumpled. "Don't you like it? Belle said—"