“The Duchess of Claringdon,” Sarah replied absently.
“No, not the duchess. I meant thatgorgeouscreature with her.”
Sarah let out a loud sigh. “Oh, Hart. You dolt.Thatis Meg.”
CHAPTER SIX
Lucy Hunt was not one to waste time. No sooner had the butler announced their names than the duchess had swept Meg into a group of her friends to keep her safely cocooned while the whole of the Hodges’ ball conjectured as to whether it was possible for Meg Timmons to have suddenly come up in the world.
Meg’s heart hammered against her chest. She couldn’t help but feel like both a fool and a fake. She’d spent the day at Lucy’s town house, where a veritable team of seamstresses worked to concoct the most glorious gown Meg had ever seen. Then Lucy’s maid had set about straightening Meg’s confounded ringlets with a hot iron and applying a bit of rouge to her lips and cheeks. Finally, Lucy had emerged from her private bedchamber with a strand of rubies so breathtaking Meg doubted they were real. Lucy had handed them to Meg as if they were nothing more than a bauble, saying, “These were a gift from a Spanish princess.”
Lucy had insisted Meg wear the priceless jewels and while she had to admit the effect was striking, she couldn’t keep from worrying whether the necklace would somehow slip off or go missing. As a result, she touched it obsessively while simultaneously wondering how Lucy had come to know a Spanish princess.
“I cannot pay for them if they are misplaced,” Meg must have said half a dozen times in the coach on the ride to the ball. Lucy had merely laughed, waved her hand in the air, and said, “They’re only rubies, dear.” Oh, to be wealthy.
Neither Mother nor Father was here. Lucy had taken over official chaperone duties from Meg’s mother for the evening. When Meg asked Lucy about it, she’d got another hand flourish and a vague, “Leave everything to me.” That also made Meg nervous. The duchess hadn’t confided in her about her plans. But she reminded herself, she had asked for Lucy’s help, and to continue to question her benefactress would be the height of rudeness.
Meg had given herself a silent talking-to in the coach, one that relied heavily upon attempting to remain calm and enjoy herself. But now that she was here, standing in the middle of the ballroom, glimmering conspicuously like a bar of gold, with all eyes fastened on her, she wanted nothing so much as to turn and run. She wasn’t used to being seen, being watched, being the center of attention.
She greeted the duchess’s good friends Cassandra, Lady Swifdon, the countess, and her husband, the earl, Lord Julian. Lucy had recently shared the news with Sarah and Meg that the countess was expecting a baby, though she wasn’t far along and still able to go out inSociety. The couple was good looking and clearly devoted to each other. The earl stayed close to his beautiful blond wife and hovered near her, solicitously inquiring after her health every so often. Meg’s heart ached as she watched them. Their obvious mutual adoration was what she hoped for with Hart.
Next Meg greeted Mr. and Mrs. Upton, the future Earl and Countess of Upbridge. Garrett was Lucy’s cousin and her father’s heir. Jane had dark, watchful eyes that blinked at Meg from behind silver-rimmed spectacles and a reticule weighed down by at least two books. Meg soon learned that Jane was possessed of a biting wit and Garrett of a good-humored nature. They were as devoted a couple as Cassandra and Julian were.
All of the men soon excused themselves to find amusements and drinks in the study, leaving the women standing together in the ballroom. Meg worried her bottom lip, convinced that Lucy’s plan would not work.
“You look breathtaking,” Cassandra said, smiling warmly at Meg.
“Agreed,” Jane added, also smiling at Meg.
Meg returned both ladies’ smiles. Lucy had probably asked her friends to say such nice things. Meg had never in her life been described as breathtaking. According to her mother she was too short, too thin, had too many curls in her hair, and looked too much like her father. Regardless, it was kind of Lucy’s friends to bestow compliments.
Meg hadn’t got up the nerve to glance around the ballroom to see if Hart was there. She desperately wanted to ask one of the other ladies if they’d seen him, but she wasn’t that bold. She didn’t have to wait long,however, because Sarah came hurrying up to their group.
“Meg,” Sarah said after she’d properly greeted everyone. She stood back, and her gaze swept over Meg. “You look perfectly splendid.” Tears shimmered in Sarah’s eyes.
“Doesn’t she look stunning?” Lucy asked. “Of course I can take no credit for it. I merely employed the proper people to make this happen.” Lucy flourished a hand from Meg’s head to her feet.
“Oh, Meg,” Sarah continued. “I’m so pleased you allowed Lucy to help you. I’ve no doubt you’ll catch the interest of some nice gentleman. Why, you should have seen Hart’s face.” Sarah laughed. “He didn’t recognize you at first.”
Meg’s breath caught in her throat. Was it true? Did she really look so different that Hart didn’t recognize her? When she’d seen herself in the looking glass at Lucy’s house, all she’d seen was her same old self blinking back at her from inside a gown she didn’t belong in, wearing a pair of slippers that slightly squeezed her feet. She felt like a child playing dress-up in her mother’s clothes. But if Hart had noticed…
Could it be that Lucy was right? Did clothing and hair and rouge truly make a difference? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Sarah where Hart was when Lucy interjected, “Perfect. That is precisely what we need.”
“What?” Sarah asked, blinking at Lucy.
“Yes. What?” Meg echoed, once again worried Lucy would reveal to Sarah her plan to attract Hart.
A slow smile spread across Lucy’s face. “An exceedingly eligible gentleman to show interest in our Meghere, of course.” Lucy nodded to Sarah. “Hart is the perfect candidate. Please go ask him immediately to ask Meg to dance.”
“No!” Meg nearly shouted before clapping her gloved hand over her mouth. On second thought, perhaps that had been rude. The gloves were new, provided by Lucy, of course—and Meg pulled the glove away from her face, worried she’d stained it with rouge.
Lucy turned her head and gave Meg a private what-are-you-doing look, distracting her from her study of the glove. “Whyever not, dear?”
Meg’s cheeks heated. “It’s just that… I mean Hart would not… He’s not…” How could she possibly explain it to someone like Lucy Hunt? Meg wanted Hart, but not out ofpityof all things. Asking Sarah to convince him to dance with her was the equivalent of yet another unwanted favor, andthatwould be both embarrassing and ghastly.
“I’m afraid Meg’s right,” Sarah replied. “Mother and Father are here and are keeping a close eye on Hart. Unfortunately, our lovely Meg is the very last lady they would approve of him dancing with.”
“They approve of your friendship, don’t they?” Lucy retorted.
