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Authors: Madcap Marchioness

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BOOK: Amanda Scott
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“Indeed,” agreed his lady, “much grander than yesterday’s. So many handsome men in uniform …” She sighed ecstatically, casting a look of twinkling mischief at her husband before adding hastily, “Then, too, to hear ‘God Save the King’ sung by such a vast crowd must always stir one’s patriotic fervor.”

Joshua chuckled. “They say Prinny enjoys pomp and ceremony, so he must have liked this occasion very much.”

“Well,” said Sarah more seriously, “I for one wish he had a proper hostess in Brighton, for I think it very unfair that only the gentlemen may be invited to his birthday dinner. You ought to be ashamed, sirs, leaving us to our own devices, as you will.”

“Nonsense,” said Clifford bracingly, “you will enjoy yourselves quite as much as we will, cutting up characters with Sally Villiers at her ladies’ dinner party.”

“And when we all meet at the Castle afterward for the ball,” put in Chalford, smiling at his wife, who had remained silent during this exchange, “I trust you two will have managed to save at least one dance for your husbands.”

Adriana returned his smile. “I will save a country dance for you, sir, if you are not too late, but Sarah is right. It is unfair to leave us out of the best of the festivities. You will all drink too much and eat too much and no doubt forget all about us. His highness needs a woman to control his debauches.”

“Well,” Joshua said, “you can’t expect Prinny to stomach having his wife in Brighton when he comes here to avoid her as much as for any other cause. And although his relationship with Maria Fitzherbert has received something akin to approval from their friends, it would scarcely be appropriate for her to act his hostess to ladies of quality for his dinner parties.”

“No,” said Adriana thoughtfully, “though I think she has been treated abominably by all the royal family, his highness included. I cannot think why she agreed to reconcile with him. She must love him very much, which is rather amazing, I think—that anyone could, I mean.”

The hint of a frown creased Chalford’s brow. “You would do as well, however, to keep that opinion to yourself, I think.”

Sarah chuckled. “You’ve no need to fear that Adriana would do anything so silly as to say such stuff to anyone but us, sir. She may be outspoken, and an outrageous flirt, but she would never create that sort of scandal, I promise you.”

“Goodness, Sarah,” Adriana exclaimed, “you ought not to make such promises as that. According to Alston, you know, I created that sort of a scandal merely by coming to Brighton.”

A tactful silence followed this statement, but Adriana was watching Joshua, and she felt a stir of excitement when she saw the muscle high on his right cheek jump. She thought it was entirely possible that she had vexed him, but she was not altogether sure, and nothing more came of the incident, for by the time they reached Clifford House, it was time to dress for their late-afternoon and evening activities. Nancy and Lettie were waiting to attend to Adriana and Sarah, so the gentlemen adjourned to Clifford’s library to refresh themselves and then to their own dressing rooms. Two hours later, Adriana, with Nancy in silent attendance, was adjusting her headdress of diamonds and gilded feathers when Chalford entered her bedchamber.

“Very becoming,” he said, regarding her elegant robe of brown and gold tissue over a petticoat of brown crepe richly embroidered in gold and trimmed with gilded lace and diamonds. “I have not seen that dress before, I believe.”

“Goodness no,” she replied, meeting his gaze a little defiantly in her looking glass. “You would not expect me to wear something I have worn before, sir. Not tonight, when everyone will be looking to see what I have on. This gown was delivered only this afternoon.” She stood and turned, giving him the full effect. Nancy adjusted a diamond loop fastening on one sleeve, and when she had done, Adriana said, “Just fetch my gloves now, and then you may go. Do not wait up for me.”

Chalford waited until Nancy had handed Adriana a pair of gold net gloves, curtsied, and left the room. Then, quietly, he said, “Is that gown not a trifle more splendid than one expects to see at a ladies’ dinner party or a ball at the Castle Inn?”

“’Tis the prince’s birthday ball, Joshua,” she reminded him. “Indeed, everyone will be dressed to shine. You would not wish your wife to be thought a dowdy on such an occasion, surely.”

“No, sweetheart, certainly not, but if the bills I received in the post today are any indication, you have been wasting the ready with careless abandon ever since you set foot in Brighton.”

“Oh, is that why you were frowning over your letters this morning? I wondered when Mortimer mentioned it but did not care to ask then, of course, and we have not been private with each other till now. I hope you are not vexed that I had the bills directed to you. At first, when I did not know whether you would come, I meant to borrow what I needed from Sarah. She is like a sister to me, after all, so you need not look so disapprovingly.”

“Surely, you had money of your own.”

“A little, not nearly enough.” She saw that he was frowning again and added innocently, “I lent half of what you gave me to Miranda because Alston was in one of his squeeze-penny moods and refused to allow her to buy anything when they first arrived. Truly, Joshua, I have bought no more than I need. I ordered warm clothing, because I shall need it at Thunderhill, and jewels, for I didn’t know you would be bringing mine. And, of course,” she added casually, “I ordered new gowns for Lady Berkeley’s and Maria Fitzherbert’s routs on Thursday and for the Duchess of Bedford’s drum on Friday.”

“But we leave Wednesday,” he reminded her, “so you can cancel those orders. You will have no need of such elaborate gowns at Thunderhill, and you will want to purchase new ones in the spring if we should go to London.”

“We can’t leave on Wednesday,” she said patiently. “I know that you said we would stay only the sennight, but surely you would not wish to offend Lady Berkeley or Maria Fitzherbert, and I have already accepted their invitations. You would not have me cry off now. The prince leaves next week to visit his parents at Weymouth, you know, so I shall not mind then if you insist—”

“We are leaving Wednesday morning, just as I said we would,” Joshua said firmly.

“Joshua, we can’t. You don’t seem to understand. Everyone else only just got here, and the amusements have barely begun. Please, sir, say we may stay through the week, and I promise I shan’t complain about the dullness at Thunderhill ever again.”

“I am sorry you think it dull,” he said, tight-lipped, “but with the situation as unsettled and potentially dangerous as it is at home, I am acting against my best judgment in being here at all. We go home Wednesday morning. In the meantime, you will, if you please, be a little less free with your spending. If you insist upon keeping the gowns you have ordered, I will say no more about them, but there is no reason to be extravagant merely for the pleasure of it, which I must say is what it appears has been the case with you of late.”

“Oh, you are impossible!” she cried. “You said you would pay more heed to my wishes, and now just listen to yourself!”

“That’s enough,” he said.

“No, Joshua, it is not nearly enough,” she said furiously, turning away from him toward the door, “but it is all I dare say to you now, for I have no intention of missing a moment of the festivities tonight.” At the door she turned back, unable to resist a parting shot. “I hope you choke on your dinner, sir!” And with that she stormed from the room.

12

B
Y THE TIME THE
cavalcade of carriages from the Villiers’ house turned off East Street into Castle Square and deposited Adriana, Sarah, Sally Villiers, and the other ladies at the tall, red brick building with elegant arched windows on the northeast corner, Adriana had recovered her temper and was looking forward to the ball. Sally’s party had been a success, for she had put herself out to provide the ladies with as fine a dinner as any the prince might set before his guests. There had even been a band of Scots Guards to entertain them, and the wines flowed as freely as they might be expected to flow at the Pavilion.

Though the elegant ballroom of the Castle Inn, with its forty-foot arched and vaulted ceiling, was eighty feet long and forty feet wide, it was already so crowded by the time the ladies arrived that the lovely plaster reliefs, medallions, scrolls, and delicate moldings that graced its walls could scarcely be seen without standing right up against one. Adriana and Sarah moved through the crush to the long row of columns forming the boundary of the ballroom opposite the entrance, where there was a space perhaps six feet deep between the columns and the windows beyond them, providing a corridor of sorts. They had engaged to meet Miranda by the second column from the south end.

“There you are!” she exclaimed as they approached her. “We have been here nearly an hour already, for”—she glanced quickly over her shoulder, then moved to stand beside Adriana, lowering her voice—“Sophie and her odious brother were afraid they might miss seeing his highness if we did not come early. I told them that he would not put in his appearance before half-past nine at the earliest, but they would come. How was Sally’s party? I do wish I might have gone, but Sally could scarcely invite me without—”

“It was delightful.” Sarah, who was facing the other two, spoke quickly, with a warning note in her voice. “We both had too much wine, however.”

“Nonsense,” said Adriana, ignoring the warning. “We are perfectly all right. Just a trifle above par, as Alston might say. Gracious, what a crush this is! How will we ever dance?”

“You will find a way, Adriana, I am sure,” said a cool feminine voice behind her. “I collect that you have purchased another expensive new gown. ’Tis becoming, of course, but it prompts one to hope that Chalford is really as wealthy as we believed him to be.”

Flushing at this unwelcome reminder of the unpleasantness with Joshua, she turned to find her sister-in-law, draped in silver lace over a petticoat of pink tissue. Sophie’s look of strong disapproval gave Adriana to realize that she had been standing there long enough to hear nearly everything that had been said, as had Mr. Ringwell, who stood behind his sister, grinning. Greeting them both with as much politeness as she could muster, She asked bluntly, “Where is my brother?”

“At the Pavilion, of course,” Sophie replied, attempting to cool herself with the pink feather fan that matched her opulent headdress. “Where else would he be, for goodness’ sake?”

“Well, since he does not approve of the Prince of Wales, I imagined he might be anywhere else,” replied Adriana.

“He knows his duty, I suppose,” Sophie said with a lofty air. “I do think he might have taken dearest Claude with him, though Miranda and I are grateful for his escort, of course.” Her attention was claimed just then by a lady unknown to Adriana, and since Sophie did not immediately present her, she and Sarah took the opportunity to slip away.

“For I tell you, Sarah,” she muttered the moment they were beyond earshot, “even to please Miranda I cannot and will not suffer that odious woman tonight. It was all I could do not to tell her precisely why Alston did not dare to take her loose-fish brother with him to the Pavilion. Can you imagine what Prinny would say if he were to clap eyes on Claude? And did you see how Sophie looked at my dress? Depend upon it, she will describe it to Alston down to the last stitch and diamond. I only hope he will not consider it his duty to speak to Joshua about my ruinous extravagance. I promise you I have had enough lectures today.”

Sarah’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Lectures, my dear? Not that you haven’t deserved them, mind you. But from the unflappable marquess? How is this?”

Adriana shrugged. “It was not so bad, but he said, as you did yourself, that I have been spending too freely, so I’d as lief he hear no untimely complaint from Alston. More important than that is that he insists we must leave Wednesday, though I had hoped to persuade him to stay till the end of the week. He will not even discuss the matter. As always, he has simply made his declaration and assumes that I will abide by his decision.”

“And so you lost your temper.” Sarah grinned at her.

“How well you know me,” Adriana said wryly. “Heaven knows I did not mean to do so, but when he was so placid about thwarting my wishes, so imperturbable in his assumption that all would be as he desired, he made me want to scream.” She sighed. “I confess, Sarah, that just as you suggested, I have been trying to discover his limits, but whenever I try to finesse him into expressing what is in his mind, he takes the trick by infuriating me instead. There are times, you know, when I am nearly certain he is displeased. A muscle twitches in his cheek, and his lips fold together tightly. But then he speaks, and he is as calm and unruffled as ever. How I wish I knew a way to disturb that damned composure of his without sacrificing my dignity!”

Sarah shook her head but could say no more, for her attention was claimed by a young man who stepped up to ask if she would honor him later with a dance. A moment afterward, Adriana greeted a gentleman acquaintance of her own, and by the time the prince’s party arrived at half-past nine, she had encountered a number of young men with whom she was acquainted and had begun to enjoy herself quite tolerably.

The crowd was so great by then that she was unable to see the prince or any of his companions. Only the altered, more harmonious sound of the musicians’ instruments, which they had begun to tune sometime earlier, gave warning of his arrival. The opening notes of the first dance initiated a spirited attempt to clear the center of the floor, but room could be made to form only two sets, and the dancers, their progress constantly impeded by the encroaching crowd, had great difficulty getting through the pattern. Rumor had it that the number of persons attending the ball had reached six hundred.

Adriana saw Chalford at last just after the musicians had struck up for the second dance, for which only one set was attempted, everyone else giving themselves up to conversation. She was chatting with Mr. Dawlish when she espied her husband making his way toward them through the crush. Her smile broadened winsomely and she leaned toward her companion, placing her fingers lightly upon his arm.

BOOK: Amanda Scott
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