“My dear Alice had a slight mishap while exiting the carriage,” Mrs. Fritzwater explained as she held up a length of lace with several bows dangling from it. “I had hoped one of Lady Dermond’s maids would be in attendance here so it could be repaired.”
Meredith glanced down at the skirt of Alice’s gown. There were several rows of lace adorned with both rosettes and bows along the hem. Meredith looked carefully, but it was impossible to tell where this section had been torn.
“You cannot even notice anything is missing,” Meredith said.
“Really?” Mrs. Fritzwater bent down to examine the skirt. “You’re right. It doesn’t appear that the fabric has been ripped. Still, I would feel so much better if the dress was properly repaired.”
Mrs. Fritzwater leaned toward Meredith and whispered, “I just want everything to be perfect this evening. This is Alice’s first ball.”
Meredith cast a sympathetic eye toward Alice. The young girl’s eyes were wide and round and her complexion looked very pale. Clearly all of her mother’s nervous fluttering was not helping her daughter conquer her own fears.
“I shall have a maid sent in directly to assist you,” Meredith said.
“How very kind of you, Lady Meredith,” Mrs. Fritzwater replied with obvious relief.
“I hope you enjoy your first ball, Alice,” Meredith said as she jerked open the door. “You look lovely.”
Alice blushed shyly and modestly bowed her head. As Meredith started out the door, she saw Mrs. Fritzwater adjust the stray curl that lay against Alice’s cheek, then deliberately tug the scooped neckline of the girl’s bodice up a full half inch.
For a moment Meredith felt a sharp pang of longing for her own mother. Though they had difficulty understanding each other, the Countess of Stafford had always loyally supported and defended her daughter.
Meredith was unsure what her parents would think of this current situation. She secretly doubted they would agree or approve of what she was about to do, but she knew they would never voice that disapproval to anyone outside the family.
It took only a few moments for Meredith to locate a footman. She quickly told the servant of young Alice’s plight. He bowed and assured her a maid and a sewing basket would be sent immediately to the ladies’ retiring room.
Her task completed, Meredith next turned her eye toward the grand ballroom on the second floor. The strains of music could be clearly heard, along with the sound of muted conversation and twinkling laughter. Though it was not yet ten, the ball was already crowded—a rare occurrence, since these events usually began later in the evening.
Meredith hesitated at the bottom of the steps, knowing in her heart she shouldn’t be here. Yet she had promised her brothers she would make a valiant effort to win their ridiculous bet.
She had been prompted by a rash impulse, but once she had given her word, Meredith felt compelled to keep it. The biggest obstacle she faced now was her own good sense. Fearing it would prevail before she reached the entrance, Meredith forced herself to begin the long climb up the staircase, ignoring completely the voice in her head that insisted she should turn on her heel and depart.
For four days, Jason and Jasper’s silent pleas, forlorn looks, and heavy sighs of disappointment had driven her to distraction. And it was said that women were prone to dramatics!
She had resisted with a gritty determination, telling herself over and over again she would not even entertain such a preposterous notion. Besides, she reminded her brothers each afternoon at tea and each evening at dinner, how was she going to kiss the marquess if she never saw him?
He apparently did not attend manytonfunctions. The only place in Society he was seen on a regular basis was Hyde Park. Yet a chance encounter where the nobility spent the afternoon riding about in open carriages and on horseback was hardly the opportune moment to try to kiss the marquess passionately.
This practical dilemma had kept the twins busy scheming and plotting for two days. Time on the bet was running out, and Meredith had begun to congratulate herself on so neatly diverting her brothers’ attention. However, her smug attitude of success was apparently premature.
Late last night the twins had wakened her from a sound sleep to gleefully report that the marquess was indeed about to attend a society function that would afford her the perfect opportunity to win the bet.
So here she stood, ready to enter Lady Dermond’s ballroom in search of the Marquess of Dardington, with the sole intention of luring him to a secluded location and then kissing him in a most passionate manner. Madness, it was pure madness!
“Good evening, Lady Meredith.”
That shrill female voice could belong to only one individual. With a cool smile, Meredith turned and faced the Duchess of Lancaster, one of the most ignorant, annoying, and petty females of thebeau monde.
“Your Grace. Lord Byrd.” Meredith dipped a slight curtsy toward the duchess and her escort. “How pleasant to see you both.”
“This is a surprise,” the duchess declared with a haughtily raised eyebrow. “I was unaware you had come to town this Season.”
“I’ve only recently arrived,” Meredith lied smoothly. She felt the woman’s keen gaze skim her from head to toe. The glint of jealousy that flashed in the other woman’s eyes was brief, but distinct.
Meredith nearly sighed. She had hoped that with time the duchess would eventually forget Meredith had rejected marriage proposals from both the duke and Lord Hawke, a former lover of the duchess. Apparently she had not.
“You appear to be without escort this evening,” the duchess observed slyly. “Perchance have you come as a chaperon for one of the younger ladies? Or perhaps you are serving as a companion for one of the elderly dowagers?”
“You are so witty, Your Grace.” One corner of Meredith’s mouth turned up. “I am neither a chaperon nor a companion. My twomaleescorts await me inside the ballroom.”
