“Bess sat in an arched bay window making sketches of the costumes being considered for the New Year's masque at Hampton Court. “I need something to cover my bulk, and let me warn you I wouldn't be caught dead dressed as a shepherdess,” Frances said. “What about a medieval lady?” Bess made a quick design of a wimple. “Well that's certainly better than Botticelli's Venus, though that would be perfect for you, Bess, with your red hair.” Bess looked uncertain. “I believe masks and disguises lend the...mselves to licentious behavior. The flimsy dress of a goddess might invite unwanted advances.” “I've got it! Oh, my idea is so sly, you will love it. I shall wear the black habit of a mother superior, and you can be my novitiate in white.” “That is deliciously, wickedly sly.” It will send a message to all that I am chaste and to William that I intend to remain so! “I want to be a butterfly,” Catherine piped up. “Then so you shall.” Bess sketched a costume whose sleeves were delicate, fluttering wings.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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