A bead of perspiration tickled its way down her spine, and she flicked her fan faster.
“Good Lord, it’s blistering in here,” her friend Maria Sinclair, the new Duchess of Derby, muttered at her side, her fan waving swiftly. “These damned masks don’t help, do they?”
“Indeed not,” Heather muttered.
The ballroom was sweltering, the opened windows and doors notwithstanding, and the air was choked with the odour of perfume andpeople.
Juliana Notley, the Marchioness of Livingston, nudged Heather’s elbow with her own. “I say, Heather, your affianced appears to be in search of you.”
Suppressing a groan, Heather peered through the sea of bobbing feather plumes attached to ladies’ flagging coiffures,and the plethora of elaborately decorated masks covering the faces of the members of thehaut ton, and found her husband-to-be. Despite his apparent efforts to dress in costume for the masque, his identity was painfully obvious to those who knew him—which was everyone. Tufts of white hair puffed up around his domino mask, his yellowed teeth stood out against his diaphanous skin, and his belligerent personality was loud and boisterous, even with the chattering around him. And, indeed, his gaze was scanning the ballroom.
“I promised him my waltz,” Heather said, her stomach giving a wobble.
Maria covered a mirthful snort with the back of her gloved hand. “The man is simply dreadful. Would that you could complete this assignment here in London rather than venturing off to the Americas.”
“Indeed,” Heather murmured.
She shook her head, her heavy, beaded mask jostling with the movement. “I confess, now that our departure draws nearer, I’m conflicted. I am eager to begin a new assignment and honoured to take on such a sizeable—andimportant—challenge, yet there is a part of me that mourns a life that I am no longer capable of living.”
“That is understandable,” Maria put in. “Your life will irrevocably change when you board that frigate.”
“And once I return unwed, I shall be ruined,” Heather asserted. It was inevitable—and part of their plan—but she could not deny that it stung, even if just a little. “It is fortunate that I have no desire for children, for the burden of my shame would undoubtedly pass to them.”
Of course, shame was not theonlyreason she was undesirous to birth children. Two of her mother’s sisters had perished in childbirth, and neither had her mother fared well bringing Heather into the world, though she had survived. The thoughtof birthing a child terrified her. A shiver raced down her spine. Heather’s purpose on the planet was far more benevolent and…botanical.
Juliana scowled. “A failing of our society, indeed.”
“I imagine children are precisely what the earl desires,” Maria added.
Heather grimaced, her stomach roiling at the very notion.
A huff of laughter escaped Juliana as she noted Heather’s expression.
“A woman oughtn’t be required to provide an heir and spare.” Maria frowned.
“But practising is rather fun,” Juliana returned.
Her friends laughed, and Heather’s abdomen gave another swoop of nerves. Her gaze slid back toward the Earl of Shite, who was wandering aimlessly through the crush.Tomorrow I leave.
“You needn’t worry, Heather,” Juliana began, cutting across Heather’s musings. “You’ve spent enough time training with Percy to sufficiently fend off any unwanted attentions from the earl. And I daresay you shall have plenty of weaponry at your disposal. When I fled home, I had naught but a pistol, a handful of coin, and my mother’s jewels. But I?—”
“You’re the daughter—and the sister—of a duke, Juliana,” Heather interjected. “And you nearly died, for pity’s sake.”
“Only because my cousin wished to kill me.”
Heather sighed. “I might only have my assignment with which to contend but, despite how close we are as friends, my life and circumstance differ vastly from both of yours. Juliana, you had a means of escape, and Maria, you… Well, you have the freedom to live multiple lives. My familywatchesme.”
Ever since the death of her parents, Heather’s aunt and uncle had made no secret of their displeasure of having her in their care, and their distrust of her. She had very little freedom of time—despite what they believed to be her work with charitablecauses—no possessions to call her own, and no means to escape. Not to mention her unfashionably red-streaked blonde hair and full figure. It was no wonder her aunt and uncle had leapt at the chance to be rid of her.
Heather heaved another sigh, hating the burst of unease that rippled through her stomach. “Fortunately, once I am ruined, I shall be able to focus more of my time on work, for Grace has generously offered me a room in the Bow Street offices.” From there, she could not only continue as a runner but also begin her work as an apothecary.
Another burst of nervous anticipation tingled its way through her middle.
“Oh, yes,” Juliana replied with a nod. “Generous, indeed.”
There was a beat of silence between them in which the swirling sea of dancers blurred in her vision, and the chatter of conversation, the shuffle of feet, and the clink of champagne flutes dulled behind the pulse whooshing in her ears. She was eager for this assignment, but there was a chance that she would not, in fact, return to London. They all knew it was possible, but no one had yet acknowledged it—mayhap out of fear of casting a pall on their last days together. Or out of hope.
“What of a last night?” Maria asked softly.
