“Liza had watched the notables arrive since ten o’clock. The ball was held in the rarely used state apartments on the first floor. Laughter and music wafted up to Liza waiting in the Princess’s bedroom. Liza paced the room, her patience frayed. She fingered the Duchess’s tortoiseshell combs. She tweaked the corner of Victoria’s blanket. She studied the portrait of the Duchess holding the infant Victoria. Why can’t I go to a ball? Then the orchestra below struck up a waltz, and Liza’s heart const...ricted. She closed her eyes to listen. How often had her mother played this tune while Papa had taught Liza the dance? One, two, three. One, two, three. Twirling her around in his strong arms, he warned Liza she wouldn’t be permitted to perform it in public until she married. They had had to stop dancing, she was laughing so hard. Then he had turned to Mama, his voice full of love, “Mathilde, may I have the honor of this dance?” Mama, not taking her eyes from his, rose from the piano and moved into his embrace.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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