Ienska gave a satisfied sigh as the final iron bar came loose. It had taken all night, and she could see the pink glow of dawn now, but she had made a way out. She leaned cautiously out of the window, searching for a safe way down. The kitchen roof was only a storey or two below her, but the roof tiles looked loose. Vines climbed up the sides of the venerable manor, looking quite strong enough to support her weight, but none of them were within reach, even if she dared to leap for them. Cursing, she straightened up.
And cursed louder as she banged her head on the window frame.
A sharp rap sounded at the door. She closed her eyes, maybe if she ignored it, it would stop.
The knock came again. She hadn't slept at all, the windows had taken all night.
A pause and then, "Lady Tineshan?" It was the voice of a woman, perhaps middle aged, but without the cultured lilt of Lady Vetinari.
"Yes?" she called, finally deciding that the world wasn't going to stop for a few hours just because she wanted it too. Obviously, it wasn't under proper management.
"Are you decent, my lady?" It sounded like someone very used to dealing with fussy noble women.
Ienska looked around the room. She'd never slept in the bed or used the wash basin that had been left for her. "Just a moment," she said. Quickly, she crumpled the blankets and tossed pillows before splashing water on her face and hair.
"Good morning, Lady Tineshan," said a comfortable woman in perhaps her late forties as Ienska cracked open the door.
"Good morning. Is there something I can do for you?" she asked cautiously, aware that there was a different set of rules here than she was used to.
"I've brought my lady breakfast," said the woman, pushing the door open and trundling in with a heavily loaded tray. "Her ladyship says that the dressmaker will be up shortly, she's receiving instructions now, and I am to see that my lady is ready to receive her."
"Dressmaker?" Ienska asked, a piece of bacon halfway to her mouth.
"Yes, of course, Lady Tineshan," the woman said, giving Ienska a good long look up and down. "And I must say that it appears you are in dire need of her services, my lady."
"Please call me Ienska," Ienska said desperately. "And, if you don't mind, who are you?" She finally took the bite of bacon.
The woman smiled. "My name is Rachel, my lady, and I'm to serve as your handmaid whilst you stay with us."
"Handmaiden," croaked Ienska, downing the cup of tea. It seemed to make the world brighter or, at least, make the brightness that was all ready there more bearable. "Of course." The Lady Vetinari's assumptions that Ienska was quite as used to dealing with all the frills and pomp of nobility were poorly off target. In fact, Ienska had never been served a day in her life…well, unless you counted all the folks who had tried to serve her cold steel, then it was a frequent occurrence.
"Now, if my lady will just undress," said Rachel, bustling the food out of reach.
"If I'll what?" said Ienska, nearly choking.
"Undress, my lady," said Rachel without missing a beat. "The dressmaker will be here soon and she'll need measurements and such."
"I think not," said Ienska coldly.
"Come now, my lady," said Rachel soothingly. "Just to your slip, surely you…ah." It apparently dawned on the handmaiden that a camisole is not a common undergarment to a tunic and pair of breeches. "I see."
"Yes," said Ienska in a flat voice.
"Well, then. I'll just nip out and find you one, shall I?" the woman departed quickly. Ienska watched her go, slightly regretful. She had taken breakfast with her.
As there wasn't much else to do while she waited, Ienska stretched out on the large bed, hands behind her head, and stared up at the canopy. How was she going to get out of this? She had thought that Vetinari would have it settled by now, but apparently that hadn't worked. They'd had quite a long…discussion about that. And a dressmaker! Ienska had only ever owned two dresses in her entire life. One had been for Hogswatch, when there really wasn't much choice about dressing up, and the other had been for situations when someone of slightly elevated social standing had needed her rather specialized services.* But Lady Vetinari didn't really seem like the kind to be discouraged, and fighting wasn't going to make the situation any better. She'd just have to wait it out, apparently. At least until she figured out how to escape from this gilt cage.
[* See Assassin's Bane]
"Here we are, my lady," said Rachel, shaking out an old white chemise as she came back into the room. "Now, if you'll just slip this on, the ladies are on their way up."
Reluctantly, Ienska accepted the garment and began looking around for somewhere out of sight to change. After a moment, she stopped, a small frown creeping across her features.
"Behind the screen, my lady," said Rachel, misinterpreting her motionless stance.
"Did you just say ladies, as in plural?" Ienska asked after a moment.
"Why, yes, of course, my lady," said Rachel, appearing confused. "None of them would trust you into anyone else's care."
"Oh, of course," said Ienska carefully, stepping behind the screen.
The door burst open again just as she stepped out, causing her to dive back behind it either from instinct, modesty, or a strange mixture of both.
"Ah, there you are, my dear!" exclaimed Lady Vetinari, hurrying into the room, arms full of what appeared to be a mass of material. "Quite excited, I should think. A new wardrobe can do that to a girl! Oh, come now! We'll have none of that, come out and meet everyone, my dear." The lady dumped the armload on the bed.
Ienska, feeling rather self conscious about meeting everyone while wearing nothing more than a shift, stepped back out from behind the screen. Two other women, one young and slim with her apron stuck full of needles and the other rather a lot older and dressed in velvet, had followed Lady Vetinari into the room.
"This is Lady Rose Richens, her husband owns the tract of land just north of here. And this is Sarah. Sarah is the local dressmaker, and quite an adept one at that," said Lady Vetinari amenably. "And this is, of course, Lady Ienska Tineshan." The others nodded their approval.
"A pleasure to meet you," said Lady Richens. "I must say, when I saw you yesterday in the gardens, having a row with Havelock, you didn't appear the part, what with your breeches. But now, I'm sure, I can see your breeding quite well."
Hard not to, thought Ienska. They can probably see everything else.
"Thank you, your ladyship," was all she said out loud.
"Oh, no need for that," said Lady Richens. "You may call me Rose."
Sarah had not been wasting any time. While the others had been talking, she had pulled out a tape measurer and began taking, well, measurements. Now she motioned to Rachel.
"Bring me the blue one."
Rachel obediently retrieved a pile of blue fabric from the bed and draped it over Ienska. On closer inspection, it proved to be a dress, though it was hard to tell beneath all the ribbons, lace, and frills.
"It was one of mine when I was a girl," said Lady Vetinari. Ienska refrained from comment.
"Do you have a preference for dress style?" asked Sarah from somewhere around Ienska's ankles, her voice muffled through a mouthful of pins.
"Um…" They came in styles? This was all news to Ienska, she had always figured that dresses were just fabric draped over people so that there was less sewing involved.
"Perhaps Ankh-Morpork high society? Or a more Hubwards style?" suggested Lady Richens.
"Something simple, I suppose," said Ienska uncertainly. All three ladies frowned.
"Well, I suppose, if we lowered the neckline," said Sarah slowly.
"No! I mean, no, thank you, it's fine where it is," said Ienska hurriedly.
"Raised the hem line?" asked Sarah hopefully.
"No," this time Ienska managed to sound firm. "The various lines are fine, thank you."
"Very well," said Sarah with a sigh. "I'll do my best." Her spirits were noticeably dampened as she pinned two more dresses, one in dark green and one a light sundress of airy white. "Give me a few moments, if you please," she said, and bustled out, arms full.
Lady Richens looked at Ienska, dressed once more only in the borrowed slip, with something very akin to reproach. "You might have let her have her fun, you know," she said.
Ienska couldn't really think of a suitable response to that. "Where is…Havelock?" she asked instead, stumbling over the use of his given name. The question seemed to thrill the older ladies, and they exchanged a knowing glance that would have gone over Ienska's head, had Lady Richens been a foot or so taller.
"Oh, not to worry, dear," said Lady Vetinari. "Men aren't very comfortable about things like dresses, they prefer to see the finished model, not the work in progress."
Lady Rose opened her mouth, perhaps to make a comment along the lines of men enjoying watching the work in progress a little too much, but Lady Vetinari inadvertently tread on her foot just before the words came out. Ienska smothered what threatened to be a giggle.* Her formal education had been rather lax in some areas, considering her guardians hadn't expected her to live over the age of nineteen, but walking the streets of Ankh-Morpork had filled in some of the gaps for her. Not all of them, but enough to know why Lady Vetinari had stopped her friend's comment.
[* A form of expression she tended to frown upon.]
"I see," said Ienska, trying to sound innocent.
"You'll have plenty of time with Havelock this afternoon," continued Lady Vetinari with the air of one about to reveal a wonderful surprise. "And this evening I'm having a little get together in honor of your and Havelock's engagement." Ienska flinched, hoping the ladies wouldn't notice. Never rely on hope alone.
"Are you all right?" asked Lady Richens in a concerned voice.
"Oh, still jittery about the nuptials, I expect," said Lady Vetinari, draping a maternal arm around Ienska's shoulders. "Why don't you just sit down until Sarah returns with your dresses, my dear?" She firmly pushed Ienska onto the bed and retreated across the room to speak in hushed tones with Lady Richens. Rachel stood calmly by the door.
This couldn't be happening, it really couldn't. There was no way she was going to marry Havelock Vetinari. She didn't even like him! Not to mention, he hadn't asked her. Which was beside the point, of course, because she hated everything he stood for and barely put up with him as an acquaintance. She wasn't marrying him. But apparently there was a countryside full of people who thought she was, and that could prove a problem. Nevertheless, she wasn't marrying him. Even if he had asked.
"Here we go, best I could do," said Sarah, reentering with an armful of something that looked like a lot less material and a great deal less lace than when she had left. "Let's see how they look."
Resigned to her fate, at least temporarily, Ienska stood and allowed the dress to be slipped over her head and laced down the back. The ladies stood back to get a better view.
There was a moment's silence.
"Oh, my," said Lady Richens.
"My word," added Lady Vetinari.
"She certainly wears it well," commented Rachel from the doorway.
Sarah just stared, eyes wide. "Let's try the others," she croaked after a few seconds.
Hastily, the ladies placed the dark green dress on Ienska, who was wondering what all the fuss was about. Another moment's silence and the white sundress was fitted onto her.
"I think that will do," said Lady Vetinari, trying to sound matter of fact. "They all suit you very well, dear."
"I like that white one," offered Rachel.
"Sarah, why don't you take those last measurements?" suggested Lady Vetinari kindly. Sarah nodded mutely and went about her work.
"What are these for?" asked Ienska apprehensively as the width of her head was measured and recorded.
"Your wedding dress, dear," said Lady Vetinari absently.
"Oh," the sound was rather strangled as Sarah measured the circumference of Ienska's neck.
Shortly after, the women, including Rachel, hurried from the room, leaving a bemused Ienska behind. She bent and picked up one of the slippers they had left her.
Slippers. Weren't those supposed to be worn around inside when it was cold? And carried by fluffy little dogs? But they had assured her that these were the proper shoes to wear with the dresses and, since the only other option she had were her traveling boots, she supposed she'd have to deal with it. There were a great many things she would have to deal with until she made her escape, it seemed.
Still holding the slipper, she rose, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her jaw dropped and the ill fated slipper hit the floor with a dull thud.