“That is not very polite to your guest.”
Nerissa flushed, but said prettily, “But it is Portia I am thinking of, Trelyn. You know I want to introduce her to Society. How are we to do that if we stay at home?”
Portia protested that she was happy to live quietly, but Nerissa over-rode her with pouting pleas. A flutter of panic began in Portia’s stomach. She did not want to go anywhere where she might meet a certain man, and she was terrified that someone might recognize Hippolyta.
She pinned her hopes on Lord Trelyn, but in the end he said, “As you wish, my dear.”
Portia wished he had more resolution.
“And if we are to go out,” Nerissa said happily, “we really should pass through the Debenhams’ rout.”
“Perhaps I should stay at home,” Portia said. “My gown—”
“Is charming.” Nerissa’s tone allowed no argument. “I will lend you my pearls.”
“I would not mind remaining at home,” Portia said desperately.
Nerissa’s smile was sweetly implacable. “But you are my companion, Cousin.”
And so Portia allowed the maid to arrange glowing pearls around her neck and wrist, in a brooch, and in an aigrette for her hair. The mirror assured her that the jewelry raised the quality of her gown a good few notches. Nerissa even lent her a fan—a precious item of mother-of-pearl and gold.
Portia rippled it open and shielded her worried face. If she had to do this, she was pleased to be doing it in style.
When the maid suggested paint and plumpers, however, Portia refused with a shudder.
“You are rather pale,” said Nerissa doubtfully.
“I am as I am.”
Nerissa laughed. “How strange you are!”
As they turned to leave the room, Portia said, “Nerissa, what sort of events are these? Whom shall we meet there?”
Nerissa waved a beringed hand. “Everyone who is anyone! Well no. Perhaps not. The Willoughbys’ affair will be extremely proper, with music of the highest order. That means,” she said with a rueful smile, “that the more lively members of London Society will disport themselves elsewhere.”
Portia relaxed a little. She should have realized that Lord Trelyn would not attend a wild affair. And Bryght Malloren would surely not waste an evening on proper behavior and excellent music.
That being the case, Portia determined to enjoy herself. Tonight would be her first grand London entertainment, and probably also one of her last. In years to come she would have one brilliant night to remember.
Or two, she thought wistfully, thinking of brilliance of an entirely different order.
Soon they were in a carriage in a queue of carriages and sedan-chairs waiting to disgorge their glittering occupants at the door to the Debenham mansion. As this house was on the next street to the Trelyn’s house, the carriage seemed absurd to Portia, but Nerissa assured her that it was unthinkable to attend these affairs on foot.
Portia looked out of the window at the queue ahead, and the queue behind. “Goodness. The whole world must be trying to get in.”
“Only the elite,” said Lord Trelyn, and Portia could tell he enjoyed counting himself of that number. She suspected he even enjoyed the people lining the streets to watch the carriages go past. Some of the gawkers seemed to recognize Nerissa for they called out her name. She inclined her head just a fraction in gracious acknowledgement and the famous Trelyn diamonds shot fire. The Queen of Society indeed.
Was this why Nerissa had married Lord Trelyn?
Portia decided it was mean-spirited to be dissecting her hosts’ intimate affairs, and put it out of her mind. Instead, she pressed to one side to look down the queue. “People seem to be leaving as enthusiastically as they are entering. I fear the event must be a disappointment.”
“You dear ninny!” laughed Nerissa. “It would be the worst of bad taste to stay long, for then how would other people get in? Everyone is on his way elsewhere, as we are. We will just greet our hosts and move through the rooms, commenting to our friends what a terrible crush it is.”
“And then what?”
“And then we will leave. It is just that extracting ourselves will take even longer than getting in.” She gave a twinkling smile. “It is all quite ridiculous, but one must.”
Why? Portia wanted to ask, but she knew the answer. It was the way of the world.
