“Quite so, quite so,” Lord Bromley said hastily.
“At least you won’t have to rig yourself out in such a ridiculous garb each time you want to see my uncle in private,” Roberta said, stubbornly refusing to be excluded.
“I thank you for your consideration, Miss Rushforth,” he murmured. “That, indeed, will be a welcome relief.”
She nodded briefly and took her leave, satisfied that she had made her point. “If I am to visit Lady Jersey, I had best go now. You see, Sir Nicholas, I thought to go to the masked ball Lady Winthrop is holding tomorrow night,” she said airily as she crossed to the door. “That is, if I can persuade you to attend as well.”
“Is the comte to be there?” he asked.
“I’m sure he will be, once he hears of my intentions from Lady Jersey.”
Sir Nicholas looked annoyed but gave his reluctant agreement. “Although, in the future, Miss Rushforth, I would appreciate it if you would give me advance warning of the affairs you wish to attend, for, as is the case tomorrow, I may already have a prior engagement.”
“I have no desire to interfere with your personal life,” Roberta responded coldly. “There is no need for us to go to this masked romp.”
“I have agreed to escort you, Miss Rushforth,” Sir Nicholas replied with growing irritation. “I will present myself here at ten tomorrow night.”
Roberta curtsied and departed without another word. She felt much better now that she had finally managed to put him on the defensive. She would prove to him once and for all that she wasn’t a woman who accepted such treatment without fighting back.
Her smile broadened into a grin. “I do believe I’m going to enjoy myself enormously,” she murmured with a laugh. “And it will be entirely at your expense, Sir Nicholas.”
*
The small tea party to which Lady Jersey had invited Roberta and Mrs. Ashley was well underway by the time they arrived.
“I knew we would be the last to get here,” Mrs. Ashley said nervously as the butler announced them. “Perhaps it would have been better had we not come at all.”
There was no time for Roberta to reassure her companion, because Lady Jersey swooped down on them. “My dear Roberta, Mrs. Ashley,” she said, her face wreathed in smiles. “How perfectly wonderful that you could come. I had almost despaired of seeing you.”
“Then you forgive our tardiness?” Roberta said, patiently suffering Lady Jersey’s embrace. “I’m afraid I’m at fault. My uncle has just returned to London, and I spent more time than I should have, talking to him.”
“And how is dear Lord Bromley? No, don’t tell me. I’m certain he’s as well as he ever has been. Such a lovely man, and such a puzzlement to me that he has never married. Now, let me see, who can I introduce you to?”
Roberta glanced around and smiled at several people she recognized. “I think I know everyone,” she murmured. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go and say hello to Lady Jenny.” She moved away, leaving Mrs. Ashley to the mercy of their hostess.
Roberta kept a watchful eye on Lady Jersey all during tea. When it appeared that her hostess had tired of flitting between her guests, she approached her tentatively.
“Excuse me, Lady Jersey,” she said. “I was wondering if you could give me some advice.”
“Advice? Why, yes, my dear. That, as the whole of London knows, is the one thing I dispense with pleasure.”
Roberta smiled. “It’s about tomorrow night. I don’t quite know what to wear. You see, having been out of the country for so long, I’m no longer familiar with what’s considered proper attire.”
“Ah,” Lady Jersey replied, “but everyone I know is undecided what they should wear. As you have already enjoyed several Seasons, I think it would be quite appropriate if you wore something striking—a dress that will catch everyone’s attention. You should never be frightened of revealing your charms. I never was, and it didn’t harm my standing in society.”
“I shall let myself be guided by you, then, Lady Jersey, and go as a French courtesan. I bought a gown in France that would do very nicely.”
“Ah! the French. They certainly lead us in fashion, don’t they?” She eyed Roberta speculatively and then chuckled. “And Frenchmen are masters in the art of dalliance. They’re so romantic, don’t you think?”
“I…eh…my experience is limited,” Roberta replied. “The comte is the only Frenchman I know.”
“And it was he I was referring to. He’s so delightfully wicked. He speaks highly of you, Roberta, and will be pleased to know that you will be at Lady Winthrop’s. You should feel encouraged that you have two of London’s most eligible gentlemen dangling after you.”
“I think you exaggerate matters, Lady Jersey!” Roberta exclaimed with becoming modesty.
“But, my dear, everyone is talking about the way Sir Nicholas has singled you out. Why, Lady Ramsden was saying just before you arrived, that she believed his intentions must be serious. Mind you, her reason for suggesting such a thing is because she failed to persuade him to take an interest in that poor daughter of hers last year.”
“Cynthia?”
Lady Jersey nodded. “Although I do hasten to add that there is a vast difference between you and Cynthia. Why, the girl has managed to inherit the worst traits of both her parents. She’s inclined to plumpness, she stammers and she makes no pretense of the fact that she prefers to read rather than to dance. I sometimes feel I am being remiss in my duty by not advising Lady Ramsden she is wasting her time in pushing Cynthia, especially as she has three other daughters to settle.”
“I have always found Cynthia to be a most engaging young lady,” Roberta demurred. “She accepts her shortcomings with grace, and does her best to please her mama. It is perhaps unfortunate, don’t you think, that some females are more blessed than others in their looks?”
“Looks are everything,” Lady Jersey responded firmly. “No man wants to be shackled to a dowdy bluestocking.”
“Yet how many men enjoy being shackled to an empty mind when their lady’s bloom has faded?”
“No matter what your age, Roberta, you are still an innocent. Men can always find ways of enjoying themselves outside the home.”
Before Roberta could reply, somebody claimed Lady Jersey’s attention, and she breathed a sigh of relief, for she found Lady Jersey’s manner altogether too overbearing.
“In the unlikely event that I ever marry,” she murmured crossly, “I will make it perfectly clear to my spouse that I will not countenance his finding outside distractions.”
“You look positively annoyed about something,” Mrs. Ashley said as she joined Roberta. “You mustn’t let Lady Jersey’s tongue overset you.”
“Oh dear!” Roberta said guiltily. “I didn’t realize my face reflected my thoughts. Perhaps we should go before I disagree with anyone else.”
As they made their farewells, Lady Jersey whispered that she would endeavor to present a certain Frenchman to Roberta at the masked ball. The younger woman smiled in satisfaction.
Chapter 12
“What do you think, Polly?” Roberta asked as she turned slowly in front of the mirror. “Will anyone recognize me?”
Polly shook her head and looked away in some confusion. Her mistress was behaving in a very strange manner, one she couldn’t understand at all. And the dress she was wearing was now almost indecent. Without the lace insert, the bodice revealed an ample portion of bosom.
“I don’t ’ardly think so, Miss Roberta,” she said at last. “I’ve never seen you look so…I mean, you don’t look like a lady at all.”
Roberta laughed. “I’m not supposed to, Polly,” she explained to the young girl. “I’ve dressed as I think a French courtesan would, for it is important that I attract a certain gentleman’s attention tonight.” She smoothed an imaginary crease from the close-fitting skirt, which caused the soft folds of silk chiffon to hug her legs closely. “I hope I have the courage to bear the ogling glances I’m bound to draw.”
“Dear Polly, you mustn’t worry. Sir Nicholas will give me all the protection I need. And Ashley won’t see my gown until we have arrived at Lady Winthrop’s. I will don my cloak before I leave the bedroom.”
The hint of excitement in Roberta’s voice was infectious, and Polly nodded secretively. It suddenly occurred to her that her mistress was really trying to attract Sir Nicholas but was using the other gentleman as bait. And with that thought, a tiny flame of hope was rekindled in her own heart. If her mistress succeeded in attaching Sir Nicholas, then perhaps she would not have to forego her own future happiness with Davids, the man she loved.
“Hurry, Polly,” Roberta urged as the hall clock chimed. “My cloak and mask. I don’t want to be late.”
Polly deftly placed the cloak about Roberta’s shoulders and stood back to insure that her mistress’s dress was well concealed.
Roberta swept gracefully out of the room. Just as she reached the bottom of the sweeping staircase, Mrs. Ashley joined her.
“I declare, I am quite looking forward to this evening,” Mrs. Ashley said. “I shall enjoy watching the pageantry of the various costumes. Are you still going to keep me in suspense about yours? I think I should know what you are wearing, in case I lose sight of you in the crush.”
“You won’t, Ashley. I’ll make certain of that.”
“I thought I heard your voice, Roberta,” Lord Bromley said as he emerged from his study. “You’d best be off before you miss all the festivities. I hear there is to be a firework display of uncommon brilliance.”
Roberta smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Uncle. I will see you in the morning to tell you all that transpires.”
“I won’t be here,” he said somewhat evasively. “But if anything happens, I’m bound to hear about it.”
Roberta frowned and was about to ask where, he was going, when the butler announced that the carriage was waiting.
“I do hope the heat won’t be overpowering,” Mrs. Ashley remarked, blissfully unaware of Roberta’s distracted mood. “I almost fainted away at the last of Lady Winthrop’s I attended.”
“I will insure that you are seated by the windows in the ballroom, Ashley, for, if my memory serves me correctly, they do not create too much of a draught when opened.” They had settled themselves in the carriage by this time, and Roberta turned to wave to her uncle. He lifted his hand in a half-salute and disappeared back inside the house. Roberta stared out of the window, a thoughtful expression on her face. She had the oddest notion that something had happened to do with the comte and that her uncle was deliberately keeping her in the dark about it. Well, if the opportunity arose, she would ask Sir Nicholas.
The rest of the journey was completed in silence. They had just donned their masks when the door of their carriage was flung open by a hired flunkey, who competently helped the two ladies to alight. A red canopy, brilliantly lit by hundreds of candles, covered their short walk into the flower-decked hall. More servants were there to relieve them of their cloaks, and Roberta prepared herself for Mrs. Ashley’s criticism of her dress. But her companion’s attention had been caught by the hideous garb of an unknown dandy dressed as a court jester.
“Good heavens, Roberta!” she exclaimed. “I declare, my head aches already, just looking at those awful colors.” Roberta laughed and quickly pulled her shawl over her shoulders. Mrs. Ashley turned her attention back to Roberta and nodded approvingly. “You look absolutely charming, my dear,” she said. “That is a most becoming dress.”
“Why, thank you Ashley,” Roberta replied, and with great determination pushed her troubled thoughts away. There would be plenty of time later to find out why her uncle had behaved so evasively.
They joined the throng of people already making their way up the great staircase, and as Lady Winthrop had dispensed with the formality of greeting her guests, Roberta and Mrs. Ashley soon found themselves in the ballroom. A few couples were already dancing.
Their progress as they circled the waxed floor was slow. Several men stopped Roberta and asked for her card, onto which they penciled their initials beside the dance of their choice. She didn’t recognize any of them, and worried for a moment that her card would be filled before Sir Nicholas or the comte arrived. But Mrs. Ashley’s next words put that fear to rest.
“That must be Sir Nicholas, Roberta. Over there—the man in the red domino.”
Roberta looked in the direction of Mrs. Ashley’s gaze and nodded. It was not difficult to recognize him. He stood several inches above his nearby companion and had made no effort to powder his hair. His eyes were sweeping the room and rested on Roberta briefly. She raised a hand and waved to attract his attention before continuing on her way.
It would be up to him, she decided, to seek her out. However, she took the precaution of marking off two dances on her card, one of them the supper dance.
She had just finished making Mrs. Ashley comfortable in a chair when Sir Nicholas wandered over. He bowed low over Mrs. Ashley’s hand, and Roberta sensed he was deliberately ignoring her.
“Good evening,” she murmured in dulcet tones. “Would it be considered forward of me if I presented myself to the red domino? I trust you had no difficulty rearranging your appointment to accommodate this whim of mine for tonight’s entertainment?”
A frown, swift but deep, crossed Sir Nicholas’s face as he made his bow to Roberta, but there was no time for him to respond, for a friend of Mrs. Ashley’s joined them.
“You don’t have to concern yourself over me now, Roberta,” Mrs. Ashley said indulgently. “It’s an age since I last saw Mrs. Swanson, and while you young things enjoy yourselves, we can indulge in a comfortable coze.”
Roberta smiled and moved away. Sir Nicholas followed her.
“You will stay in the ballroom until the comte approaches you,” he said curtly. “Assuming, of course, that he is here tonight. You must not make the mistake of appearing too eager or willing. He is a man who responds to challenge, not easy conquest.”
“I shall bear that in mind, Sir Nicholas,” she returned with ill-concealed annoyance.
“Your card, if you please, Miss Rushforth.”
“I have already reserved the supper dance for you,” Roberta said, but she gave him the card anyway.
He looked at it briefly, put his name beside the last dance as well and then returned it to her. “I hope you won’t have tired yourself out before the end of the evening,” he said, a heavy scowl creasing his face.
“You really must do better than this if you are to convince the ton that you are one of my suitors,” Roberta chided gently. “You don’t look as though you are enjoying my company at all.”
“Happily, my mask will cover my true feelings tonight,” he said sharply.
Sir Nicholas’s obvious displeasure suddenly began to pall. In an effort to appease him, Roberta apologized for coercing him into coming. “Can we not at least agree to rub along with some tolerance?” she asked. “I find your bad humor most debilitating.”
He seemed to hesitate, as though he were going to refuse, and then laughed. His eyes glinted in amusement through the slits in his mask. “Agreed, Miss Rushforth,” he said. “And you must accept my apologies for being so ill-tempered.”
Roberta nodded and felt her spirits rise. “I find it most uncomfortable to be on the outs with my uncle’s colleagues,” she said, “and you may rest assured that I will try not to inconvenience you in the future.”
He drew her hand into the crook of his arm and squeezed it gently. “And I will endeavor not to provoke you,” he replied.
Roberta disengaged herself reluctantly from his grasp when her partner for the next dance claimed her hand. Afterward, when he returned her to Mrs. Ashley’s side, Sir Nicholas was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered what he was doing. The supper interval suddenly seemed a long way away.
&nbs
p; A moment later, her hand was claimed again, this time by someone posing as an executioner.
“A rather macabre outfit to choose,” she commented as he led her into a set already forming for the quadrille.
“But I hope ’tis not one you will forget, Miss Rushforth,” he returned with a smile.
The music started, and they were separated. When he caught her hand again, she told him he was most ungallant for exposing her and demanded that he reveal himself. Before he could respond, they were parted once more. The fragmented conversation continued through the dance, and Roberta was still none the wiser as to his identity, when he finally relinquished her to her next partner.
The polka, followed by the galop, left her too breathless to continue dancing, and she begged the sailor who presented himself as her next partner to procure her a glass of lemonade. While she waited for him to return, she looked about anxiously for Sir Nicholas and the comte.
“I’m right behind you, and the comte has yet to arrive,” Sir Nicholas murmured. “I do hope he doesn’t let you down.”
“Perhaps it’s best he does,” she responded smoothly, “for I’m afraid I have worn myself to a frazzle and will be unequal to the task of engaging his attention.”
“Then I shall order my men not to dance with you any more,” Sir Nicholas said. “It would be a great pity if you failed to accomplish your objectives tonight.”
Roberta caught a note of sarcasm in his voice and looked at him sharply. “You mean you have arranged all my partners for me so far this evening?”
Sir Nicholas nodded. “All except for the sailor. I hope none of them have given you offence.”
“I—I—really, Sir Nicholas,” she began angrily, and then started to laugh.
“Are you all right, Miss Rushforth?”
Roberta nodded. “I was vain enough to believe that my costume was responsible for my sudden surge in popularity. Thank you for protecting me so thoroughly.”
He looked down at her and smiled, a warm smile that made her nerves tingle. “There are many disappointed men who are bemoaning the fact that your card is filled,” he said. “You do look extraordinarily fetching.”
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