“You look stunning, Madelina.” Lanora’s bright smile held genuine warmth.
“Thank you, Lady Westlock.” Madelina took in Lanora’s emerald gown, which complimented her eyes and the hints of auburn in her dark hair. “As do you.”
“Lanora,” Lanora corrected, as she always did. “Please, call me Lanora.”
Madelina nodded, but knew she couldn’t. Not with the secret she carried. Even William didn’t know, for he’d been sent away all those years ago, thinking his mother dead. As she was, by the time he’d returned.
The carriage dipped slightly as William, who’d been speaking with the driver, climbed in to sit beside his wife. His tiger closed the door. The thumps of the boy clambering up to his perch were muted by thick wood and heavy upholstery.
“Your gown is exquisite, Lady Madelina,” Miss Birkchester added. She turned a smug expression on Lanora as the carriage rocked into motion. “You see? The right amount of crystal on a gown augments rather than outshines a lady’s beauty. Lady Madelina appears to have been born of magic and dreams, and only now spun to life to grace us mortals.” Miss Birkchester let out an envy-tinged sigh and turned to Madeline. “It helps that you’re so tall and willowy.”
Miss Birkchester’s cream gown, trimmed out in a powder blue, accented her eyes but boasted not a hint of sparkle.
“I’d rather have your vivacity than be ethereal and willowy,” Madelina replied, seeking the correct mixture of modesty and compliment.
Miss Birkchester tossed chocolate curls that framed a round, rosy face and laughed. “You’re only being kind. I am a field mouse compared to you.”
“You are both lovely,” William said firmly. “Lanora and I shall have our hands full chaperoning you.”
Miss Birkchester sniffed. “That day I need chaperoning, especially by Lanora, will be the day the earth turns upside down and we all fall off.”
Lanora shook her head. “Grace, you know the earth is a sphere.”
“I certainly do not.”
“The crown’s greatest explorers say it is,” Lanora said. “We’re near the top, and Australia is near the bottom, which I suppose is why we send criminals there.”
“How do they know they aren’t simply sailing all the way around the edges?” Miss Birkchester traced a rectangle in the air. “I’ve seen enough maps and traveled enough roads to know that the earth may be bumpy, but it’s flat.”
“They have discovered the poles,” William said.
Miss Birkchester shook her head. “They’ve discovered walls of ice they can’t cross. Those are what hold the ocean from spilling out.”
The argument continued as William’s carriage trundled through crowded streets. Thetonhad returned to London from their country seats, bringing light, noise, and crowds. Gentlemen and ladies cluttered the sidewalks, the froth of new dresses on the latter ranging from modest pastels to garish, low-bodiced, and forbidden French silk. As their carriage passed the theater, gentry bubbled forth like foam atop a cresting wave. Carriages choked the roadways. The chatter and laughter of the wealthy and landed rose unfettered into the star-spattered sky.
When they finally arrived and joined the cluster of conveyances turning up the drive of the manor housing the ball, awe wiggled into Madelina’s gut. Lanterns lit every surface of the soaring stone mansion, gilding each ornate detail of the towering façade. Eventually, their coachman halted at the front of the line of carriages. Madelina and her companions disembarked, handed down by liveried footmen.
They funneled up the broad steps and into the domed entrance hall. Perfumes, ranging from pleasant to scorching, assailed Madelina’s nostrils. Even though she’d been apprised of what to expect by her aunt and other instructors over the course of her training and had attended similar, though much smaller, gatherings in the country, the swirl of people daunted her. Though clad in a gown fit for a princess, Madelina couldn’t help but recall that, should the assemblage learn the truth about her, they would cast her aside without a second thought.
They swept through the receiving line where Madelina managed a near-perfect curtsy to the dour old duchess who hosted them. They then continued into the relative safety of the ballroom and stopped halfway across that vaulted space to survey the crowd. Surrounded by so many vivacious young ladies, Madelina hoped to sink unobtrusively into the background. She need simply endure the evening and return to her aunt. Perhaps, after this test of Madelina’s social graces, Aunt Aubrey would deem her fit to pursue her real work.
“Who is that?” Miss Birkchester asked, sounding startled.
“Is that,” Lanora’s voice dipped to a whisper, “Jasper Mclintock?”
“It is,” William replied evenly.
A gentleman left a distant window embrasure and approached, apparently unaware of those who melted from his path and then turned to watch his progress. Long strides quickly brought him near and Madelina’s gaze collided with the strangest eyes she’d ever seen. A light amber, they seemed almost to glow from within. Rather than sighting anything captured in those tawny wells, she felt the gentleman’s gaze reach out to ensnare her.
“Why is he coming over here?” Miss Birkchester squeaked. “I’ve read about him in the scandal sheets. I will not dance with that man.”
“I don’t think it’s you he means to ask,” William said, his tone light.
Askance, Madelina saw Miss Birkchester lean forward to look at her. “Oh dear,” Miss Birkchester murmured.
Lanora’s head snapped around to face her friend. “Are you certain? But, this is her first event, and he’s the very first man to approach.”
“I’m always certain,” Miss Birkchester declared.
