WHILE ROWAN RAN for the house, anxious to tell their mother all about Lady Jewel and the spider, Violet alighted from the carriage, still looking about in wonder.
The world was magnificent. She wandered around the side of the mansion, stunned by the splendor of her father’s exquisite flowers. Such brilliant colors, such delicate petals. She’d seen them before, of course, but only in her own hands or leaning down close. The gardens overall had been blurs of color, never this entire panorama of perfect shapes and rainbow hues stretching into the distance. And, oh, the subtle details were wondrous.
Oblivious to her approach, her father knelt by some roses, patting mulch into place. She touched him on the shoulder. “You’ve done a spectacular job here, Father.”
“Eh?” Engrossed, he didn’t look up. “What did you say?”
Sighing, she raised her voice a notch. “Your flowers are beautiful.”
“So are you, dear,” he said automatically, rising from his knees. At the sight of her, he froze. “Violet. What have you done to your face?”
She grinned. “They’re spectacles, Father. Lord Lakefield made them for me.”
He blinked. “What do they do?”
“Besides make me ugly?” Despite that fact, a smile bloomed on her face. Throwing her arms out wide, she spun in a circle, looking at everything at once. “I can see, Father! I can really see!”
In her exuberance, she’d yelled it, and he’d certainly heard. When she stopped twirling, he gathered her into his arms—something he hadn’t done in quite a while.
He hugged her hard before pulling back, then searched her eyes with his. “Can you see everything? Just like me?”
“Everything.” She knelt by his flowers. “This red rose, and that yellow one in the distance. And the hedges over there, and the rowan tree by the river.” She rose, turning slowly this time, savoring the incredible view. “I cannot wait for tonight to look at the stars.” Facing the house, she stopped. “I can see Lily smiling behind the window.” She waved merrily, grinning when her sister waved back.
“Violet!” Rowan came running out, their mother trailing behind. “I told Mum about your spectacles, and she wants to see them!”
“Chrysanthemum!” Father cried, yanking Mum in for a kiss as though they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. Normally Violet rolled her eyes at her parents’ shameless displays, not to mention Father’s cloying nickname for Mum. They were so sickly sweet together as to make her stomach turn.
Normally. But today, their affection only made Violet think of Ford.
And her first kiss.
A tingling weakness spread through her body. What was happening to her?
“Let me see these spectacles,” her mother said, taking Violet’s face in her hands and turning it this way and that. “Do they really help you see?”
“Immeasurably. They’re miraculous. And worth looking hideous, I can assure you.”
“You look fine, dear.”
Now Violet did roll her eyes.
Her sisters stepped outside, both wearing new gowns they’d had fitted the past week while Violet had been at Lakefield House. Rose’s was a rich, dark green, the skirt looped up and caught on the sides to show off the bronze underskirt beneath. Flurries of lace trimmed her chemise, peeking from the scooped neckline and the cuffs of the fitted sleeves. With her shimmering hair and tall, willowy grace, she looked like some sort of ethereal wood nymph.
And Violet could see every detail before her sister even came near. Absolutely miraculous.
“What is that dreadful contraption on your face?” Rose asked. Lady Tact.
“See, Mum?”
“You look fine,” Lily said. Her gown was a sunny yellow and quite lovely, too. It had a square neckline and a nutmeg-colored underskirt embroidered with yellow daisies.
“I don’t care how I look,” Violet told them all. “Only that I can see.” She turned to her mother. “When will my own new gowns be fitted?”
“Since when do you care about clothes?” Rose asked.
But Mum just beamed. “Tomorrow. I shall send a note to the seamstress forthwith.”
“Excellent,” Rose said. “And I’ll take Rowan to Lakefield tomorrow, since Violet will be busy.”
Last week, Violet would have been relieved to hear that. But now she was just annoyed.
“That won’t be necessary,” Mum said. “Violet can be fitted in the morning while Rowan has his lessons. She’ll be free by afternoon.”
Rose’s pout was so well done, it could earn her a leading role at the Theatre Royal.
“Lord Lakefield said he would take us to the village for Jewel’s birthday tomorrow,” Rowan informed them. “Jewel has a lot of coins. May I try the spectacles?”
“If you’re careful.” When Violet gingerly removed them, her world went blurry. She handed them to her brother, and he slipped them on.
“I cannot see,” he said, scrunching up his nose and squinting through the lenses.
“Well, of course not. They’re for bad eyes, and your eyes are good.”
“Let me see,” Lily said. Rowan handed over the spectacles, and she held them up to her face. “Goodness, Violet, your eyes must be really bad.”
“Let me see,” Rose said, grabbing for them.
“Careful!” The metal frames were thin, and Violet didn’t want her new treasure broken.
“I won’t hurt them.” Rose slid them onto her face, then gasped. “Is this what things look like to you?”
“Probably. But not anymore.” She took the eyeglasses from Rose and happily settled them back in place, sighing as her view of the family cleared. “I don’t care what I look like,” she said again. “It’s just so wonderful to see.”
“Truly, you look fine,” Lily said kindly. “The spectacles suit your face somehow.”
Violet didn’t believe her, but she really didn’t care.
“Truly,” Lily repeated, and when she smiled, her teeth looked whiter and straighter than Violet remembered. “It was thoughtful of Lord Lakefield to make them, wasn’t it? He must be a very nice gentleman.”
“And handsome,” Rose added.
Violet gave an unladylike snort. “I thought you found him lanky.”
“He is lanky. Still and all, he’s handsome enough.”
For the second time in ten minutes, Violet rolled her eyes. It felt different behind the lenses.
Everything felt different.
“May Jewel come for supper?” Rowan asked.
Mum patted her son on the head. “A grand idea. We’ll send an invitation immediately. We all owe Lord Lakefield thanks for restoring Violet’s vision.”
“Eh?” her husband asked. “Did you say something about a decision?”
Mum set her hand on his arm. “I said vision, darling.”
“Hmmph,” he muttered half to himself as he plucked a dead head off a hollyhock plant. “The man of the house is traditionally involved in decisions.”