She had given the man very detailed drawings of exactly what she wanted. While acknowledgment of the craftsman who constructed the mask should certainly be made, Georgina felt comfortable taking some of the credit for herself. Georgina smiled, unable to resist the urge to touch the mask herself. “It looks even prettier than I imagined.” Harriette, Georgina’s lady’s maid and companion, released the reverent whisper as she extended a hand to brush the cluster of feathers bursting from the top left edge of the mask. The custom-designed mask was everything she’d hoped it would be. If the sparkling creation nestled in the tissue paper before her was a sign of things to come, her hard work was about to reap handsome rewards. She’d spent the past three years carefully preparing and planning, determined to make her debut Season perfect or, at the very least, convince everyone else it was.Įxuding anything less than complete excellence could lead someone to the truth: that she wasn’t just imperfect-she was elementally flawed. Perfection, even the fabricated appearance of it, was a nearly impossible feat.
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