She was a thin, rather small lady, but the stately way she carried herself made up for any lack of stature. She wore her gray-touched dark hair in a plain knot, without dangling curls or other embellishments. Her simple headdress of a diamond band with a silver feather was all the more elegant for that.
She descended the staircase, her skirts brushing me as she wafted by.
I could not help following her down, worried about what the spirited signora might do when confronted by her lover’s wife.
The comtesse gestured quietly at the majordomo, who loosed his hold on Signora Ruggeri and stepped away, though he kept a wary eye on her.
Signora Ruggeri became strangely subdued once released. Instead of turning her wrath on the comtesse, she waited quietly between the burly footmen as the comtesse approached.
The guests in the downstairs hall fell silent, and I felt the weight of stares above me. All held their collective breaths, anticipating the comtesse’s condemnation of her husband’s beautiful mistress.
Comtesse Lejeune reached the foyer. The footmen’s stances became respectful as she neared them, and the majordomo stood at attention, awaiting orders.
The comtesse ignored them all and held out poised, gloved hands to the signora.
“Signora Ruggeri, welcome,” she said in a clear, ringing voice. “I saw you dancing at a fete last month. So effortless and accomplished.”
Signora Ruggeri gaped awkwardly at the older woman, who exuded confidence and ease. Belatedly, Signora Ruggeri attempted a curtsy.
“Your ladyship,” she murmured in accented French. “You are very kind.”
The contrast between the two women was acute. The comtesse wore a subdued silver gown and might have blended into the background if not for her controlled grace. The signora was dressed in a vivid shade of maroon, her bodice cut to show off a plump bosom. Diamonds glittered in her hair, no doubt a gift from the comtesse’s husband. The comtesse was regal, the signora, ostentatious.
The comtesse grasped Signora Ruggeri’s hands and raised her from the curtsy. “No need for such formality, my dear. I cannot think what happened to your invitation. One hires out these things, and one can only trust that the task is accomplished correctly. Let us ascend to the ballroom, which much more comfortable than this drafty hall.”
To the crowd’s and Signora Ruggeri’s absolute astonishment, the comtesse tucked the younger woman’s hand under her arm and proceeded to guide her up the staircase.
I stood aside to let them pass, giving the comtesse as polite a bow as I could while balancing on the stairs.
The guests swarmed up behind the two women, none wanting to miss the spectacle of the their beloved comtesse taking charge of her husband’s hated mistress.
I climbed more slowly after them, and Gabriella met me at the top of the stairs.
“How gallant of the comtesse,” she gushed, her despondency gone. “She would have been justified to have the lady arrested. The comtesse is proving that grace and manners are more to be admired than youth and fleeting beauty.”
As Gabriella at the moment possessed both youth and beauty, I suppressed a smile. I agreed with her sentiment, however. The comtesse had just given us a lesson in dignity and sangfroid.
Donata glided toward us through the throng. She took my arm as she thoughtfully regarded the pair who disappeared into the crowd.
“The comtesse came to stay with us once, in Oxfordshire,” she said. “I’m certain she found us rustic and provincial. But she was kind and intelligent, engaging my father in learned conversation, and never complained of endless walks in our damp garden. She was even kind to me, an ungainly young lady of fourteen, who ought to have been beneath her notice.”
I could not imagine Donata ever being ungainly, but I suppose we all were at some point in our lives. Donata was now elegant at my side, and her tone held as much admiration as Gabriella’s.
Donata continued. “When the new republic inflicted retribution on this city for supporting the king, the comtesse was steadfast. They declared they’d destroy all the homes of the wealthy—or anyone they perceived as wealthy—and she worked to keep those orders from being carried out. Out of the hundreds of houses that were to be burned or pulled down, a large percentage of them escaped. The comtesse had much to do with that, quietly and behind the scenes. She is quite a lady.”
“She appears to be.” I wanted to see more of this woman. “Shall we go in?”
The upper hall had nearly emptied, leaving us, the less interesting foreigners, alone.
Gabriella took my other arm, and we made for the ballroom. The majordomo, who’d taken his place inside its doorway announced us.
“Capitaine Gabriel Lacey, Madame Lacey, and Mademoiselle Gabriella Auberge.”
No one noticed. The guests had knotted behind the comtesse and Signora Ruggeri, trying to pretend they weren’t following.
A passing footman offered champagne, which Donata and I took and Gabriella declined.
The comtesse continued to flow across the ballroom, Signora Ruggeri firmly on her arm. I could not hear at this distance what the comtesse said to her, but whenever I caught a glimpse of Signora Ruggeri’s face, she looked dazed.
