She had hardly spent a day in recent memory outside of the confines of a corset, but Lavinia has never a corset feel like this. She struggled for air as Arabella pulled the laces taut. Her chamise creased under the pressure, the folds more pronounced as the corset cinched Lavinia’s waist to a daring angle.
“Some of us,” gasped Lavinia. “Still need to breathe.”
“Not tonight you don’t. And in any case, we breathe too. Just less.” With a flourish Arabella tied off the laces, winding her excess under the modesty panel. She stepped back, picking up a thick bundle. Opening the waist, she held the petticoat out for Lavinia to step into. She then buttoned the crinoline into place, spinning Lavina around to face her.
“Now the hoop.”
“The hoop too?” Lavinia complained.
“Trust me. The hoop is easier to dance on. Way more space to move. I’ve worn layered crinolines before.” She shook her head. “Simply put: a nightmare.”