Regency Masquerade (3 page)

Hesitantly
she entered as befit a very young gentleman shopping for his mistress.  Before
she could get her bearings a saleswoman stepped up smiling, “May I be of
assistance sir?”

“Well
I ...” Frances halted in well simulated confusion, “I’m looking for a dress –
for my sister...  it’s for a ball.”  Despite the fact that no young lady she
had ever known in her entire life had sent her brother to buy a ball gown, the
assistant continued to smile.  “I see sir, and what size does m’selle take?”

“Eh?
Oh I don’t know ... she’s nearly my size ... just a little smaller,” her voice
trailed away as the assistant beckoned her over to a fabulous creation of gold
satin.  Frances looked doubtfully at it. “I don’t think I could afford anything
as grand as that.” 

The
assistant frowned, “I’m afraid we do not stock many ready-made gowns – most
customers prefer to have them made up.”  She paused thoughtfully, then snapped
her fingers for a young attendant. “The green one, from the back.”  There was a
slight delay and then the girl reappeared carrying a green silk gown carefully
over both arms.  She held it up gingerly by the shoulders and Frances fell in
love with it.  Pale green, like shallow water, it was not suitable for a young
girl but for a married woman.  A trim of white lace around the neck and the
puff sleeves set it off nicely.

“How
much?” she queried fearfully.

“Two
hundred guineas,” came the rude awakening.  Frances sighed and turned away
reluctantly.

“That
is,” continued the saleswoman smoothly, “It was two hundred guineas originally when
it was made for Lady Fairfax, however she changed her mind.  Now it is only a
hundred and eighty – pounds.”

“I’ll
take it,” the words were out before Frances could stop them.  “I do not have
the whole sum on me at present, but if I could pay half now, could someone deliver
it to me at my room at the Pelican and I will pay the rest then?”  This
arrangement turned out to be quite satisfactory, in fact it was quite a
pleasant change as many of Madame Lisette’s customers delayed weeks before
settling their accounts.  Frances left her direction then set off with her head
in a whirl.  Now she would have to buy some slippers and some gloves, and a
reticule and a hairpiece!  At this rate she would have to win a very large
wager with Carleton to keep living in London for more than a couple of weeks!

Turning
her back on these thoughts, for now she was committed to attending the ball,
Frances made her way to Grafton House, where she had heard that one could pick
up the most amazing bargains.  Sure enough, she found all the accessories she
wanted there and even remembered at the last minute to purchase a black mask. 
Muttering bashfully about his sister’s birthday, Peter Francis managed to
complete his shopping in under an hour and for a mere ten pounds.  Trifling when
one compared it to the cost of the gown!

She
summoned John immediately when she returned to the Pelican.  “I need a carriage
for tonight John, a proper carriage, not a hackney.  I am going to Lady
Dalrymple’s masked ball.”

He
stared at her open mouthed, “You’re what?”

“I’m
going to a ball, a masked ball.  I’ve bought a gown and everything.”

“You’ve
gone mad!” was the flat reply.

“Well
only a little,” she admitted. “But I’m sure ‘tis the only way I’ll discover
Lady Murray and besides I feel like being a woman again for a while.”

“Are
you invited?”

“Of
course not! How could I be? I shall just have to bluff my way in – that’s why I
need a carriage to make an impressive entrance – how does Amelia Blenkinthorpe
sound?”

“Unlikely!”
returned her harassed servant.  “No doubt you’ll be turned back at the door,”
he assured himself.  “And how do you think you’re going to get out of here, all
dressed up in your finery?  Not to mention getting back in!”

“Hm
...,” Frances nibbled a fingertip as she considered. “I think I could slip out
while everyone was at dinner, if you were waiting for me with the carriage
around the back.  Perhaps I had better take my breeches and a coat with me in
the carriage so I can change on the way back.  I shall make a point to leave at
a quarter before twelve before the unmasking. Can you have the carriage waiting
for me?” she asked, fleshing out her plan.

“Hmph! 
I can see you’re set on it so I’ll do my best about the carriage.  You’d better
hop to it if you want to be ready before midnight!” he remarked acidly as he
left the room.  Frances lost no time as she needed to do everything for
herself, there was no maid to assist her!  She was accustomed to being her own
maid however, and when John returned to admit grudgingly that he had managed to
hire a carriage, he found her already dressed and carefully powdering her
face.  No lady would have such ugly brown skin!  Painstakingly she attached the
dark brown wig to her own short locks, tucking any fair strands out of sight
and then put on the black mask.  She was totally unrecognisable as Peter
Francis.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Smiling
she met John’s eyes in the mirror.

“You’ll
do,” he approved reluctantly.  “Have you got the garments you want ready?  I’ll
take them along to the carriage now.”  She handed him the dark cloak, boots and
a pair of breeches.  “I’m ready.  Is the carriage at the back of the inn?”

He
nodded.  “In that case, I will come down as soon as the coast is clear.”

Frances
waited until John had disappeared down the corridor, then, checking in both
directions, stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her.  Moving
softly, she hurried after him, listening for the sounds of anyone approaching. 
Everything was quiet until she opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and
noise from the taproom filtered along the passage towards her.  She could
imagine the scene, Will the landlord would be serving mugs of ale while Mary
his wife would be in the kitchen preparing dinner for the two or three guests
who regularly ate in.  As she paused, a servant girl came out of a room ahead
and disappeared into another.  Holding up her skirts, Frances slipped down the
passage into the store room and out through the back door to the small courtyard
and stables.  John was standing at the head of a pair of horses attached to a
smart looking coach with the door swinging open.  She trod purposefully toward
it, ignoring the startled exclamation of a stable hand coming out with a bucket
of water, and climbed in.  John shut the door smartly behind her, jumped up
behind the horses and they were off.

Frances
allowed herself a quick sigh of relief.  One hurdle had been cleared, now on to
the next.  Night had fallen by the time they drew up outside the residence of
Lord and Lady Dalrymple.  Burning torches lit the entrance and a steady stream
of beautifully dressed guests were making their way in.  She waited a few
minutes as a large party got out of several coaches and reformed, laughing
together, on the pavement.  In a flash she was out of her carriage and had
attached herself to the rear of them.  She followed them up the steps keeping
just far enough behind not to attract their attention.  She pretended to
stumble on the top step and then hurried after them, with a petulant “Well I do
think you might wait for me!”   Looking neither right nor left at the doormen,
she passed unchallenged into the hallway.

 Lord
and Lady Dalrymple were standing just inside the doorway ahead to welcome
guests, smiles fixed on their faces.  Frances followed her camouflage party. 
Before her courage could desert her, she curtseyed to her hosts and said
smilingly, “Tonight I am Diana, my Lord”.  The rather portly gentleman before
her looked a bit taken aback, then said gallantly, “A goddess indeed!” and
bowed her through to his wife.  Frances curtseyed a second time and moved on
without speaking again.  She had done it!  She was in.  For a moment relief
threatened to overwhelm her but she breathed deeply and soon found her way to the
centre of the ballroom.

Almost
immediately a tall Harlequin approached her for a dance and Frances found
herself whirling around the ballroom.  It was all very informal and she enjoyed
herself immensely.  After dancing for nearly an hour with several different
partners, she remembered her primary purpose in attending.  She disengaged
herself with some difficulty from a young red haired Walter Raleigh and went
looking for the powder room.  It was upstairs and crowded as usual with young
girls chattering about their admirers.  On the pretext of pinning up a torn hem
Frances sat down quietly in a corner and listened.

“Lord
Henley has asked me to dance twice already ...”

“and
I said I’d be delighted if only ...”

“Have
you
seen
what Honoria is wearing?”

“Is
the one all in black Jack Lambert do you think?”

Suddenly
out of the medley of gossip, Frances heard a familiar name and she leant a
little closer.

“Mama
wishes me to accept Lord Carleton – if he offers for me, but he’s so cold!  I’d
rather have someone lively and gay like Jack Lambert.  You’re so lucky Amanda,
although nothing has been announced yet has it?”  The young voice added
thoughtfully.  The owner was a girl of perhaps eighteen, with golden curls, a
pink rosebud mouth and large blue eyes, rather close set, thought Frances
nastily to herself.  She was exquisitely dressed in a pale blue gown and wore a
string of pearls around her slender neck.

Her
companion would have been considered pretty enough if she had been alone, but
she appeared dull and ordinary next to the blonde vision.  Brown ringlets
framed her face and her pale pink gown was in the latest fashion.  She was
using her black mask as a fan and paused for a moment to reply confidently “No
nothing has been arranged yet but ‘tis only a matter of time now mama says. 
After all it would be such a suitable match with his lands so near to Fenhurst.”

“I
find it difficult to picture Jack settling down to a quiet life in the
country!  What about his opera dancers?” exclaimed her friend.

“Really
Rosamond!” protested Amanda with a frown, “I don’t know what you mean!”  She
put the mask back on her face rather forcefully.  “Are you ready yet?  We
should return to Aunt Louisa.”

Rosamond
laughed and glanced quickly again in the mirror.  “Yes, I’m ready.  By all
means let’s find Aunt Louisa.”  The two girls went out together.

Frances
continued to sew, her head bent down over her lap.  She had almost finished
when another young girl burst into the room holding a trailing hem above the
floor.  Grey eyes met blue and they both laughed.

“Men
are
such
clumsy creatures!” exclaimed the new comer, sitting down beside
Frances.  “Oh you do sew neatly!  I make such big crooked stitches, Sophie says
a child could do better.  It’s only a little tear ... I don’t suppose you would
consider...?” her eager voice trailed off hopefully.  Frances looked into an
enchanting little face, framed with dusky brown curls setting off an enormous
pair of blue eyes and a smiling mouth.  Her lips curved despite herself and she
nodded.

“Alright,
I’ll fix that for you if you like, at least so that it will hold for tonight. 
Perhaps we had better introduce ourselves.  I’m Diana ... Diana Murray,” she
added with sudden improvisation.

“Oh
would you? How kind you are!  I’m Sammy Fairfax.  Sammy is short for Rosamonda
of all things but there are two of us this Season so I decided on Sammy.  It’s
what I am always called at home and I like it much better anyway,” she
chattered on.  “Sophie says it’s not ladylike, which may be true, but I don’t
look particularly “boyish” do I?” she demanded archly, a dimple suddenly
appearing in one cheek.

“No”,
agreed Frances, taking in the small but very female figure.  “I think it suits
you very well.  I’ve finished here so if you would show me the hem which needs
attention ...”

Sammy
shuffled around and eventually located the tear.  It was on the other side of
her dress so she exchanged places with Frances who began to repair the damage. 
“This thread is not the same colour as your material,” she observed, “So you
will have to get someone to mend it properly for you when you get home.”

“I’m
very grateful – are you new in town?  I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Yes,
I’ve just come up from the country for a short visit.  Is this your first
Season?”

“Oh
yes.  I’ve only been out two months.  Everything is so exciting in London,
isn’t it?  I don’t think I’ve stayed home for one night in
weeks
!  I
want to live here for ever and ever and never go back to Surrey. Sophie says I
shall have to find a husband who prefers London, but I don’t think I shall want
a husband for simply ages yet.  Sophie is my sister-in-law you know, she
married my older brother Harry and I’m staying with them for the Season.”

The
name suddenly rang a bell and Frances queried, “Would that be
Lady
Fairfax then?”

“Yes,
that’s right.  Do you know her?”

“No,
only I think we go to the same dress shop!  There, I think that should hold up
for the rest of the night.”  She rose to her feet.  Sammy jumped up and thanked
her again.  They left the room together, Sammy continuing to chatter away about
the dresses she’d worn and the balls she’d attended, so that Frances felt she
knew half of London society just from listening to her.  During a brief pause for
breath, she asked idly.”I believe I have a distant relation in London, Lady
Julia Murray, do you know of her at all?”