Читать книгу The Earl's Runaway Bride - Sarah Mallory - Страница 9

‘Well my love, you can be easy now,’ said Lydia at breakfast a few days later. ‘James and Rosthorne have gone off to Dover to meet the royal visitors and bring them back to London. The Prince is planning a royal procession through the town to St James’s Palace and James has hired rooms for us overlooking the route, so we will be able to watch the procession in comfort.’

Felicity received the news with mixed feelings. She should be relieved that there was no possibility of meeting Nathan for a while, instead she was disappointed.

‘Will Sir James and the earl be riding in the procession?’ She tried to sound indifferent but she blushed when she looked up and found Lydia smiling at her.

‘Yes they will. James tells me the Prince has insisted that Rosthorne should wear his dress uniform: he will look so dashing that I am sure all the ladies will be swooning over him.’

Felicity scowled into her coffee cup.

‘Let them swoon,’ she muttered. ‘I am sure I do not care!’

But when the day arrived Felicity could not deny a frisson of excitement as she and Lydia sat in the window of the hired room.

‘People have been gathering since dawn,’ remarked Lydia. ‘Everyone is eager to see the Emperor. They have even erected stands along the route, but I doubt that even they will have such a fine view as this.’

There was a sudden stir in the crowds below.

‘They are coming,’ declared Lydia, leaning towards the open window.

Felicity could hear the rattle of drums. A cheer went up as the cavalcade approached, a long column of bright colours and nodding plumes. Felicity watched, fascinated by the never-ending ranks of soldiers and dignitaries passing beneath her.

‘There’s Prinny!’ cried Lydia, pointing. ‘And that must be the Prussian King.’

Felicity looked down at the upright, soldierly figure in his topboots and white pantaloons. He looked very serious, but she could not help thinking that was much more regal than the portly Prince Regent. Lydia grabbed her arm.

‘Look, there’s James!’ She waved her handkerchief wildly at a group of riders following the royal party and was rewarded when Sir James looked up and raised his hat to her. ‘Oh, he is so handsome. And he looks so well on horseback, does he not?’

Felicity murmured a reply. She was searching the colourful columns, eager to catch a glimpse of Nathan. What had Sir James said about their escort duties? Nathan was to accompany the Emperor of Russia.

‘I have not yet seen the Tsar,’ she murmured, her eyes raking the crowds.

‘Perhaps he is gone another way.’ Lydia laughed. ‘I would not be surprised if his sister has told him to come direct to her at the Pulteney Hotel. James says she has taken a dislike to the Prince Regent!’

Felicity was aware of a searing disappointment and berated herself fiercely. For five long years she had resolutely tried to forget Nathan Carraway—now he was out of her sight for just a few days and she was pining for him! She stared out at the colourful cavalcade passing beneath the window and made a decision. She would speak to him. At the very next opportunity she would reveal herself to Nathan. She would watch his reaction carefully; if he wanted nothing to do with her then she would ask Lydia to send her back to Souden and she would do her best to make a life for herself without Nathan Carraway. But perhaps, just perhaps…She hugged herself, trying not to fan the tiny spark of hope that refused to be extinguished. Whatever was decided, surely it would be better than this half-life she was living at present? Beside her, Lydia gave a little tut of exasperation.

‘It does not look as if the Tsar is going to appear. How tiresome! But we shall discover the truth tonight.’ Lydia sighed. ‘Such a lot of new faces, and James will expect me to know them all, for he will be inviting them to our ball! Well, Fee, my dependence is upon you to remember them, so that you can prompt me if I forget their names!’

‘So, James, what happened? Where was the Tsar?’ Lydia drew her husband into her private sitting room. ‘It is no good telling me you have been ordered to dine at Carlton House; you are not leaving until you tell us everything. Is that not so, Felicity?’

‘If you could spare us five minutes, Sir James, we would be grateful.’

Her calm tone belied her impatience to know why Nathan had not been in the procession. Sir James allowed himself to be pulled down on to a sofa beside his wife.

‘Oh, very well. So you and Miss Brown watched the proceedings, did you?’

Lydia shook his arm. ‘You know very well we did, sir, for you saw us there when you rode past. But what happened to the Tsar?’

‘Aye, well…’ Sir James shook his head. ‘We made good progress coming up from Dover. There were people lining the streets and hanging out of upstairs windows, all cheering, but the crowds were so thick as we came into London that the royals grew nervous.’ He tried and failed to hide his grin. ‘They ain’t used to the mob, you see. All the people wanted to do was to cheer their heroes, unbuckle the horses and draw the carriages through the streets themselves, but the sovereigns didn’t want it. Then someone took a pot-shot at the Tsar.’

‘No!’

‘Yes, my love. Only the shot went wide and hit Rosthorne instead.’

‘Was—was he badly hurt?’ Felicity asked, her hands straying to her cheeks.

Sir James laughed. ‘Not at all, but the bullet took his hat clean off! I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, for he was obliged to set off after the Emperor, who was determined to join his sister.’

‘At the Pulteney.’ Lydia nodded sagely. ‘You said he might do that.’

‘Did I, by heaven?’ exclaimed Sir James. He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘What a clever little puss you are to remember that! Well, I hope he’s comfortable there. The Lord Chamberlain, two bands and I don’t know how many others had been waiting since dawn to receive him, then Rosthorne sends a message to say Tsar Alexander came into town by way of the turnpike at Hyde Park Corner and would be staying at the Pulteney. Prinny is as mad as fire, of course, but forced to put on a brave face. That is why I must go now, my love. His Highness is not in the best of moods, so it will not do for me to be late!’

‘Poor James,’ said Lydia, kissing his cheek. ‘I think these celebrations are going to be anything but peaceful! But I must confess a desire to see this Emperor of Russia. Will he be at Lady Stinchcombe’s ball tomorrow night, do you think?’

‘He has certainly been invited; we must see if Rosthorne can bring him up to scratch!’

Felicity looked up to find Lydia giving her a rueful glance.

‘Then I regret I must ask you to come out with me again tomorrow, Fee—I cannot wait for James to finish his interminable meetings before going to the ball.’

Felicity nodded. Inside, she was aching to see for herself that Nathan was unhurt. Tomorrow night could not come soon enough.

The carriage turned into a cobbled street off Piccadilly and pulled up outside a pretty red-brick house set back in its own grounds. Lady Stinchcombe greeted them warmly.

‘There is no ceremony here tonight,’ she said gaily. ‘The Emperor sent Lord Rosthorne to make his apologies, but we shall do our best to enjoy ourselves without him. Wander where you will, although the garden illuminations will not be at their best until it is properly dark.’

‘I suppose we should wait until the last of the daylight has gone before we look at the gardens,’ said Lydia. She led the way towards the card room. ‘Have a care, Fee,’ she murmured, pausing in the doorway. ‘Rosthorne is here.’

Grateful for the warning, Felicity stayed in Lydia’s shadow as she followed her into the room. She spotted the earl almost immediately. He was playing picquet with another gentleman while a crowd of admiring ladies stood at his shoulder, vying for his attention.

‘Poor man, how very distracting for him.’

Hearing Felicity’s comment, a gentleman standing near them gave a laugh.

‘There’s no distracting Rosthorne! Even being shot at don’t make him turn a hair. Some dashed fool nearly blew his head off yesterday.’

‘Aye, I heard about that.’A bewigged man in a faded frockcoat nodded. ‘Pretty wild shot if it missed the Tsar and hit Rosthorne. Who did it, some drunken lunatic?’

‘They didn’t catch him,’ replied the first man. ‘He got away in the crowd. Made no odds to Rosthorne, he merely followed on after the Tsar.’

‘He is very brave,’ murmured Lydia.

The bewigged man shrugged. ‘Rosthorne’s a soldier. He thought nothing of it. Ruined a perfectly good hat, though.’

Pride flickered through Felicity. Of course Nathan would think nothing of the danger. He did not know the meaning of fear. Lydia took her arm.

‘Even so, we shall not add to the distraction,’ she murmured. ‘Let us move on to the music room.’ She patted Felicity’s hand. ‘My dear, what is this? You are shaking.’

‘I am a little shocked to hear of such violence,’ whispered Felicity. ‘Pray do not mind me, Lydia; let us go on.’

She was being irrational, she told herself. Nathan had been in danger any number of times when he was a soldier, so why should the news of this incident affect her so? She chewed her lip. Because it was here, in London, where one did not expect such things. She glanced back at Nathan, sitting at the card table.

And because she still cared for him.

They wandered into the next room where Miss Stinchcombe was performing upon the harp. As the final notes died away and they applauded her performance, Felicity saw Gerald Appleby approaching them.

‘Lady Souden, how do you do! And Miss Brown. A delightful evening, is it not? Mama is sitting over there by the window, may I take you over? I know she will want to talk to you…’

He led them across the room, chatting all the time until they came up to Lady Charlotte, who greeted Lydia with a regal smile. Felicity she acknowledged with no more than a flicker of her cold eyes before engaging Lady Souden in conversation. Felicity gave an inward shrug and would have moved away, but Mr Appleby stopped her.

‘How are you enjoying the music, Miss Brown?’

‘Very well, sir, thank you.’

‘I think the harp very over-rated and much prefer the pianoforte,’ he continued, smiling at her. ‘Do you play at all, Miss Brown?’

‘The pianoforte, a little.’

‘Ah, all young ladies say they only play a little and then they perform the most complicated pieces for us. Shall we have the pleasure of hearing you this evening, ma’am?’

‘No, Mr Appleby, I do not play in public.’

‘What, never? But why? This must be remedied immediately,’ he cried gaily.

Felicity tried to step away but found the wall at her back. ‘No, I assure you, sir—’

He took her hand and leaned toward her, smiling. ‘This is no time for bashful modesty, madam. Let me take you to the piano—’

‘Gerald!’ Lady Charlotte’s strident tones interrupted him. ‘Gerald, leave the gel alone. It is beneath you to flirt with the hirelings.’

‘I beg your pardon, Lady Charlotte, but Miss Brown’s birth is equal to my own,’ said Lydia, bristling in defence of her friend.

‘So I should hope,’ returned Lady Charlotte, unperturbed. ‘I would expect nothing less in any companion of yours.’

Felicity observed the angry flush on Lydia’s cheek and slipped away from Gerald to take her arm.

‘You wished to look at the lamps in the garden, my lady…’

‘Insufferable woman,’ muttered Lydia as they walked away. ‘She is so set up in her own importance!’

‘I was quite thankful for her intervention,’ returned Felicity. ‘Mr Appleby is far too mischievous.’

‘Perhaps he is trying to fix his interest with you.’

‘Oh, Lydia, surely not!’

‘You may look surprised, Fee, but he is quite taken with you.’

‘But I have done nothing—’

‘No, nothing more than look adorably shy.’ Lydia gave a soft laugh. ‘There is no need to colour up, my love; you have an air of fragility that makes men want to protect you.’

Felicity put up her chin. ‘But I do not want to be protected! Oh dear. I had hoped, by dressing plainly and not putting myself forward, that I would not be noticed.’

‘And in general that is the case,’ Lydia reassured her. ‘Mr Appleby is perhaps trying to make amends for his mother’s ignoring you.’

‘Yes, that is very possible,’ mused Felicity. She looked up, a smile lurking in her eyes. ‘And it is a very lowering thought!’

Her companion laughed. ‘Yes, it is! But it is quite your own fault, Fee. If you were to put on a fashionable gown and stop dressing your hair in that dowdy style I have no doubt that we would have dozens of gentlemen clamouring to make your acquaintance!’

Still chuckling, they wandered out on to the terrace where a familiar voice cut through the darkness.

‘So there you are! Now what in heaven’s name are you two laughing at?’

Sir James’s bemused enquiry brought his lady flying to his arms.

‘Oh, my dear, you are here already! How wonderful! No, no, you must not ask about our silly jokes. I did not expect to see you here for another hour yet!’

‘Well, having delivered his Highness to our hostess I have left him being toad-eaten by any number of the guests! What a crush. Scarcely room to move in the ballroom!’

‘I know, that is why we came out here to look at the lamps. They are very pretty, are they not?’ Lydia took her husband’s arm. ‘Shall we take a stroll through the gardens? Come with us, Fee.’

‘If you do not object, I think I might stay here for a little while.’ Felicity had spotted the earl slipping out of the house on the far side of the terrace. She nodded at Lydia. ‘Please, go on without me. I shall be perfectly safe here.’

As soon as Lydia and Sir James had disappeared into the gardens, Felicity ran across the terrace and down the steps in the direction that Nathan had gone. This was her opportunity to reveal herself to him. It was much darker on this side of the house, for the path led away from the main gardens, where myriad coloured lights were strung between the trees. As she hurried through the gloom her step faltered. Nathan might have an assignation—how would she feel if she came upon him with his arms around another woman? She put up her chin. If that was the case then she would rather know of it. Then she could put him out of her mind and end this growing obsession.

Away from the house there was just sufficient light for her to see the grassy path. It ran between tall bushes with the ghostly outlines of marble statues at intervals along its length. Nathan’s tall figure was ahead of her, no more than a black shadow in the darkness. At the end of the avenue he hesitated before disappearing to the right. Felicity followed and found herself stepping into a rather unkempt shrubbery.

‘Why are you following me?’ Felicity turned to flee, but Nathan’s hand shot out and grasped her wrist. ‘Oh, no. You will not leave until I have an explanation!’

Felicity swallowed. It was far too dark to see clearly and she only recognised Nathan by his voice. She lowered her own to a whisper in an attempt to disguise it.

‘I—I came out here to…’ Felicity hesitated. Should she reveal herself, tell him she had followed him? Her courage failed her. ‘I do not like the noise and chatter.’

That much at least was true. She heard him sigh.

‘Nor I.’ He released her. ‘In fact, I can’t think why I came tonight.’

Felicity knew that she should pick up her skirts and run away, but her wayward body would not move. To be here, alone with Nathan, talking to him—it was very dangerous, but she could not resist.

‘Why remain in town, sir, if you do not enjoy society?’

‘I have duties to perform.’ He turned his head suddenly, peering at her. ‘Do I know you?’

Felicity shrank back. ‘No,’ she said gruffly. ‘No. I do not move in your circle.’

Nathan shrugged. He had come out into the gardens to enjoy a cigarillo in peace but it was not his house, he could hardly tell this young person to go away. The strains of a minuet floated out on the night air.

‘The dancing has begun. Do you not wish to join in?’

‘No.’

Her laconic reply surprised him into a laugh.

‘I thought all young ladies love to dance.’

‘I do not dance. I have not danced since I was at school.’

He heard the wistful note in her voice and held out his hand to her. ‘Would you like to try now? Here?’

The stillness settled over them. Nathan had the impression the little figure before him was holding her breath. He saw her hand come up, then it dropped again to her side.

‘Thank you, but no. Companions do not dance.’

So that was her role. He felt a stir of pity.

‘But out here we do not need to abide by society’s rules.’ He reached out and took her hand, pulling her towards him. ‘Here we are no more than a man and a woman. We may dance if we wish to, or…’

His words trailed away as he drew her closer. He had not intended to take her in his arms, but as she stepped forward it seemed natural to embrace her. She leaned against him, her head just below his chin. He breathed in the subtle fragrance of flowers and sunshine and—

‘Oh, dear heaven, let me go!’

She was struggling like a frightened bird against this hold. Immediately he released her.

‘Oh, I do beg your pardon,’ she gasped. ‘That was not meant to…I must go!’

‘As you wish.’ She stood before him in the darkness. He could not see her face, but he knew that she was troubled. He said gently, ‘Did I frighten you?’

‘No…’ Her voice caught on a sob. ‘No, never.’

She turned and disappeared into the night. Nathan watched her go, then with a faint shrug he reached into his pocket for his cigarillos.

Felicity flew out of the shrubbery and stopped, panting once she reached the grass path. What had she been thinking of? To talk to Nathan had been foolish enough, to allow him to take her in his arms was sheer madness. Why had she not told him who she was? She bowed her head. She could imagine his reaction. Anger and revulsion. How had she ever dared to hope that he might want her back? Yet even now she could not bring herself to walk away.

Give him the chance to decide.

Felicity crept back to the edge of the path and peeped around the corner. She could just make out Nathan’s dark figure a short distance away, only his white neckcloth and waistcoat showing against the black shadows. He was moving quite slowly and as she watched he tilted his head back and exhaled a little cloud into the night air. A tangy, unusual fragrance wafted towards her. He was smoking a cigar. She had seen the officers in Corunna smoking these little cylinders of rolled tobacco and guessed that Nathan had picked up the habit during his years as a soldier. A movement in the shadows caught her eye. There was someone else in the shrubbery. Immediately she was on the alert, sensing danger. Nathan had turned away from that corner of the garden and Felicity saw a sudden flash, a glint of metal in the moonlight.

‘Behind you, sir!’ Felicity’s shout cut through the silence.

Nathan wheeled about, fists raised. ‘Who’s there?’

A dark shape broke away and fled, all attempts at stealth gone as it crashed through the bushes.

Felicity stepped back into the shadows. She had succeeded in putting Nathan on his guard. Now she must remove herself. Picking up her skirts, she raced back towards the terrace, veering off along the path leading to the main gardens.

‘Sir James, Sir James!’

Lydia and her husband were strolling arm in arm beneath the coloured lamps. They looked up at her call. She ran up to them.

‘Sir James, there is—an—intruder,’ she gasped out the words, impatient to make him understand. She pointed. ‘Over there in the shrubbery.’

Sir James immediately ran to the terrace and pulled one of the torches from its holder, calling to a footman to follow him. He turned to Felicity.

‘Very well, show me.’

‘James, be careful!’ cried Lydia, running along behind them.

They were halfway along the path when they met Nathan coming the other way. Felicity dropped back immediately into the darkness.

‘Rosthorne,’ Sir James called to him. ‘There’s a report of an intruder. Have you seen him?’

‘Aye, there was someone. He took off through the garden door when I challenged him. I followed him outside, but the alley was deserted.’

Sir James turned to the footman. ‘Could he have got in that way?’

The servant shook his head. ‘No, sir. Her ladyship insists we keep the door locked.’

‘Well, it was used tonight,’ said Nathan. ‘There are bolts top and bottom. I was close behind the man as he opened the door. He did not have time to draw them back. Either he had prepared his escape, or someone let him in.’

‘Good heavens!’ gasped Lydia, clinging to her husband’s arm.

‘I will talk to Stinchcombe,’ said Nathan. ‘He can have the servants search the house, to check if anything is missing.’

‘Make sure you do not alarm the rest of the guests,’ Sir James called after him. He patted Lydia’s hand. ‘There is nothing more to be done here, so I suggest we go back indoors. Come, Miss Brown. You may rest easy now; there is no one here.’

Sir James took the ladies back to Berkeley Square soon after, and the incident in the Stinchcombes’ garden was not mentioned again, but it remained in Felicity’s mind when she went to bed that night. Sir James had spoken to his hostess before they had left and she had assured him that nothing had been taken from the house, and no uninvited guests had been seen in the building. For all that Felicity was still uneasy. It would be a very bold thief who would risk entering a house full of guests. There had been something menacing about the way the figure had moved in the shadows, the way it had approached Nathan and the glint of metal she had seen. Could it have been a knife blade? She shuddered. There were so many strangers in London for the Peace Celebrations: perhaps not all of them were friendly.

‘Now you are being fanciful,’ she muttered, pummelling her pillow. ‘It was probably some poor starving creature looking for a little food, nothing more. You were overwrought. Most likely you are making a mountain out of nothing more than a worm-cast!’

Nevertheless, the feeling persisted that by being there she had saved Nathan’s life.

However, there was no talk of intruders the next morning; Lydia’s thoughts were all on a forthcoming treat.

‘In general James does not like masked balls and I feared that he would cry off from Lady Preston’s masquerade next week,’ she said, with a twinkling look at her husband. He grinned back at her.

‘His Highness insists we all attend, and that we wear a costume of his own designing.’

Lydia laughed. ‘How galling that I must be grateful to the Prince Regent for my husband’s company!’

Felicity turned to Sir James. ‘His Highness wishes you all to attend?’

‘Aye, Miss Brown. Neither Rosthorne nor I will be escorting the royal party that night, but we are still obliged to wear the Regent’s costume.’

Felicity digested this while Sir James took his leave of them and went off to his study.

‘I am glad for your sake that James will escort me to Lady Preston’s,’ said Lydia, when they were alone again. ‘It means that you are not obliged to come with me, Fee, so it works out very neatly.’

‘Actually, I would like to go to the masquerade, if I may.’

Lydia turned an astonished gaze upon her. ‘Fee, my dear, you cannot wish to go!’

Felicity looked down at her hands. ‘It is not so long ago we thought I should be attending as your companion,’ she reminded Lydia. ‘You expressly requested Lady Preston to send me an invitation, did you not?’

‘Yes, yes, I know that, but…oh, Fee, are you sure you want to attend? Have you considered?’

‘Yes, I have. It is to be a masked ball, so I may be quite disguised. And I shall leave before the unmasking at midnight.’

‘But Rosthorne will be there!’

‘I know. That is why I want to go.’

With a tiny squeal Lydia sat up. ‘Have you run mad?’ she demanded. ‘Do you know the risk you will be running to attend a masquerade?’

Felicity nodded. ‘I have considered that. But I want to see him again, Lydia.’ She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. ‘It is the perfect opportunity for me to talk to him.’

‘But as soon as you speak to him he will recognise you.’

Felicity shook her head. ‘He will not be expecting to see me there.’ She thought back to their time together in the shrubbery. ‘I doubt he even remembers my voice.’

‘This is madness,’ Lydia said again. ‘Think of the danger, Fee. These events can be very…wild.’

‘It is no matter,’ said Felicity calmly. ‘All I want is to dance with Nathan. We have never danced together, you see. And I would so like to know how it feels. Just once.’

Lydia looked at her, tears starting in her blue eyes. ‘Oh, my dear—’

Felicity quickly put up her hands. ‘No, please, Lydia, do not pity me or I shall start to cry, too. Instead I would like to ask you to help me in another way.’ She fixed her eyes upon her friend. ‘I will need some dancing lessons. Apart from a few country dances at Souden I have not danced, not properly danced, since we were at the Academy together…’

‘And you were always such a graceful dancer. I shall ask my old dancing teacher, Signor Bellini, to come here and I shall play for you,’ declared Lydia. ‘Oh, Fee, this is so exciting. And when Rosthorne discovers who you are…’

‘You go too fast, Lydia!’ Felicity frowned. ‘I am not at all sure I am ready to reveal myself to him.’

Lady Souden looked as if she would say more, but after a brief hesitation she merely smiled, and nodded. ‘Very well, my love. Now, let us think of a disguise for you.’

‘I thought you might have a domino that I may borrow. And a mask.’

Lydia sat back and regarded her friend. After a few moments a mischievous little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. ‘I think I can do much better than that for you, my love.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I will tell you nothing more now, except that you must leave everything to me!’

Lady Souden refused to say any more.

Felicity was obliged to curb her curiosity until the very day of Lady Preston’s masquerade, when she accompanied Lydia on another of her shopping sprees. This included the purchase of a pair of scarlet stockings, which Lydia presented to her friend.

‘What on earth would I want with these?’ asked Felicity, laughing.

‘They will add the finishing touch to your costume this evening.’

‘What are you planning for me, Lydia? Do tell!’

But Lady Souden merely looked mysterious and bade her to wait until the evening.

‘How fortunate that dear James could not dine with us tonight,’ remarked Lydia as she took Felicity upstairs to her apartment. ‘I can help you to dress without fear that he will want to know what we are doing.’

‘I am becoming mighty anxious about this myself,’ said Felicity as she followed her hostess into the white-and-rose dressing room. ‘The thought of those scarlet stockings is quite alarming.’

Lydia giggled. ‘Nonsense, they are just right!’ She smiled at her maid, who was standing beside an open trunk. ‘Well, Janet, have you put everything ready, as I instructed?’

‘Aye, m’lady.’ She reached into the trunk and with a rustle of tissue paper she pulled forth a gown. Felicity stared.

‘Lydia,’ she breathed, ‘I couldn’t…can you not find me a plain domino? That is all I require…’

‘Nonsense, you will look wonderful in this. We are very much of a height, so it will fit you very well. I would wear it myself but…’ Lydia smiled and placed her hands on her waist ‘…I would not look my best in it this year.’

Felicity looked again at the gown the maid was holding up for her inspection. It was a heavy brocade gown with full skirts and a narrow, boned bodice, but it was not the old style that made Felicity’s eyes widen. It was the colour. The gown was a vividly patterned scarlet-and-black, trimmed with black lace.

‘Begging your pardon, my lady, but I am not sure this is a suitable gown for Miss Brown,’ offered Janet, eyeing the gown doubtfully.

‘Pho, it is for a wager,’ Lydia responded in an airy tone. ‘Come now, we must help Miss Brown to dress. Quickly, Janet, for there is much to do.’

Felicity submitted meekly to their ministrations. Soon her light, flowing muslin gown had been replaced by pads and hoops and petticoats. She gasped as Janet tugged on the laces of her bodice, fitting it tightly into the curve of her waist. When Lydia sent the maid off to pack away her discarded clothes, Felicity gave a little whimper.

‘I can scarce breathe.’ She regarded herself in the mirror. The tight bodice emphasised her tiny waist and the creamy swell of her breasts above the low neckline. As she raised one hand to her throat the black lace ruffles fell back softly from her white arm. ‘Oh dear, Janet is right: I should not be wearing this.’

‘You want to dance with Rosthorne, do you not?’ said Lydia, eminently practical. ‘Trust me, he will not be able to resist you in this gown.’ She sighed, a faraway look creeping into her eyes. ‘The modiste named this gown “Temptation”. I remember when I wore it: James could not take his eyes off me.’ Lydia gave another sigh, but as her handmaid came back into the room she recollected herself and said in a very businesslike tone, ‘Now for the headdress. Sit down here, my love, while Janet helps me.’

A heavy black wig was fitted over Felicity’s soft gold-brown hair and she watched in some consternation as Janet pulled up a side table and began to set out a frightening array of powders and paints.

‘Is this really necessary?’ protested Felicity. ‘I am sure—’

‘Hush,’ Lydia told her. ‘You must look the part.’

‘Why, ’tis no more than a little powder, miss,’ said Janet. ‘Thirty years ago no lady would ever leave her room without painting her face as white as snow.’

‘And what is that you are putting on my eyes?’

‘Nothing more than a little burnt cork, miss.’

And so it went on. Felicity stared ahead of her as Lydia and her maid worked their transformation. The daylight faded and was replaced by the soft glow of candles before the maid began to pack away the little pots and brushes.

‘Can I look in the mirror now?’

‘Just a few more touches,’ said Lydia.

She handed Felicity a length of black ribbon embroidered with gold thread.

‘To tie up your stockings, of course,’she said in answer to Felicity’s questioning look. ‘And finally, these.’

She produced a square leather jewel case and lifted from it a heavy ruby necklace. ‘This belonged to my grandmother, but no one wears such things now. There…and the ear-drops…well—’ she caught Felicity’s hands and pulled her up to stand before the long glass ‘—what do you think of yourself?’

For a long, silent moment Felicity gazed at her reflection. A strange, exotic creature stared back at her. A dark-haired stranger with white skin and light grey eyes framed by long dark lashes.

‘Well?’ said Lydia again.

‘Even I do not recognise myself.’ Even as she spoke her eyes were fixed upon her mouth: plump, sensuously curving lips painted a vivid red contrasted with the whiteness of her skin.

Lydia gave a little crow of laughter. ‘That is precisely what we want!’ She handed Felicity a mask, a black-and-gold creation with long black ribbons to fasten around her headdress. ‘Now, you are to sit down and keep still while Janet helps me into my dress. Tonight I shall be Aphrodite, the goddess of love.’ She gave her friend a mischievous smile. ‘Quite appropriate, do you not agree? Goodness, look at the hour! We must be quick, Janet, Sir James will be here any minute and we cannot risk him coming upstairs and finding Miss Brown dressed like this!’

The maid’s head shot up. ‘Sir James doesn’t know that Miss Brown is attending—?’

Lydia shushed her maid and waved an impatient hand. ‘I told you it is for a wager. Now not another word from you, Janet, and make haste to help me into my costume!’

Lydia was giving her golden curls a final pat when word arrived that Sir James was waiting below.

‘I must go,’ she said. ‘I have given instructions for your coach to be at the door for you in half an hour. Janet has looked out a domino for you, so your costume will be completely concealed when you leave here.’ She gave her friend a final hug. ‘Do take care, Fee. I will be sure to keep James away from you tonight.’

‘Are you afraid he might recognise me?’

Lydia picked up her mask. ‘No,’ she said, going to the door. ‘I am afraid he might find you too, too attractive.’