"What can she be doing?" Esme(e) flung the words with her gaze fiercely, lovingly over her shoulder to Cleo laughing and pirouetting with pointed toes and arched feet Cleo danced and ran in wet muslin her skirts unmuddied and unstained. In her hands she wreathed the trains of recent flowers through the blissful air.
        Esme(e) planted her feet. Her fist was near the rapier's guard.
        Elaine stopped.
        Carrie stood.
        Cleo ran in from the grass. She skimmed the steps and with a final flutter of laughter curtsied low and long before the women.
        Carrie sat.
        Esme(e) lifted a brow.