The family stepped into the palace and then separated. Arthur and Bronson stepped into a wooden door leading into the ballroom. Elizabeth and Clara found a group of young ladies and their mothers waiting at a similar door, this one leading into the ballroom with a majestic spiral staircase.
Glancing around her, Clara noticed that several of the debutantes had similar ensembles to her own, except decorated with lace and ribbons instead of crystals. Some had magnificent tiaras of precious gems while others had headdresses composed of white ostrich feathers.
Elizabeth squeezed her hand. "What you have put in your hair is much lovelier than the rest of these young ladies my love. It is simple yet elegant."
Clara smiled, instinctively raising her hand and touching the beautiful rose shaped comb nestled at the base of her bun. The rose was comprised of clear and bright blue diamonds. The comb had been a gift from her father on her 18th birthday.
Clara swallowed back a flood of emotions. Her father, George, had died three years ago, one month after her birthday. She hadn't worn the beautiful gift he had given her, wanting to save it for a special occasion. Now, at the age of 21, she knew her debut was the right opportunity to wear it.
Elizabeth hugged her. "I know darling, I miss him too. But you know he is smiling down on you this very minute."
Clara smiled. "I know he is mama."
Moments later, the first debutant was called. She stepped up to the landing of the staircase leading down into the ballroom, squared her shoulders, and began her descent. The announcer calling the names closed the door, and the young lady disappeared from view.
As the next several ladies had their moment to shine, Clara felt her confidence return. She knew she was beautiful, kind, compassionate, and well mannered. That, as far as she was concerned, were the true qualities of a diamond.
Announcer. "Presented by her mother, Lady Elizabeth Harrington, Miss Clara Harrington!"
Squaring her shoulders and taking a breath, Clara stepped through the large wooden door and onto the landing of the staircase. A soft smile spread across her face as she placed one hand on the banister and began her descent. Each step was slow and precise, poised and perfect.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd as they watched Clara make her way toward Queen Charlotte. They had never seen a more beautiful young lady than the one before them. She was a brilliant beam of light that put the other young ladies to shame.
Maintaining her composure, Clara slowly approached the queen and gave her a curtsy. She waited a few moments before slowly rising, her eyes bright and her smile soft. She watched as Charlotte approached.
Charlotte smiled, her dark brown eyes glittering with approval. "Exquisite my dear."
Clara felt her heart flutter. Queen Charlotte approved of her. Keeping her composure, she stepped backwards until she reached her mother.
Elizabeth took her hand, escorting her to the side of the ballroom to make way for the Remaining presentations. She squeezed Clara's hands, her eyes glowing with pride. A smile of pure delight danced across her face.
Clara. "I must be dreaming."
Elizabeth hugged her quickly. "You are far from dreaming my love. The queen approves."
Clara. "Mama, do you believe I have a chance at becoming the diamond?"
Elizabeth took her face between her hands. "You have as much of a chance as the rest of these young ladies. You are beautiful and kind hearted, compassionate and humble. Qualities that a true diamond ought to possess."
Clara smiled and hugged her mother. "I love you mama. Thank you for sharing this with me."
Elizabeth squeezed her tightly. "I love you my darling. You are very welcome, I wouldn't dream of sharing this with anyone else. Now, continue making a good impression. You never know what could happen."
Clara pulled away, her eyes shining. "Believe me mama, that is exactly what I planned to do."
Once the final debutante was presented, the crowd dispersed. The young ladies were swamped with eligible bachelors wanting a dance with them. For the first ball of the season, there would be six dances, each one lasting an hour.
Clara smiled as a group of three gentlemen approached. She glanced down at her dance card, which was attached to her left wrist with a powder blue silk ribbon. One by one, she watched each gentleman sign their initials into the first three slots of her card. As the first dance of the ball began, she was escorted to the floor by her partner.