A Country Mouse by Fenella Miller Page B

you are truly unwell, my love. Edwards will be waiting in a withdrawing-room and she can summon the carriage to return whenever you wish.'
    A liveried footman, his gold frogging glittering in the torchlight, assisted them from the carriage. Edwards shook out their skirts and they shuffled forward with the rest. Once inside Emily began to enjoy herself. There was so much to see. There were older guests still wearing elaborate wigs and white face paint with black beauty spots. Some gentlemen were still dressed in the earlier fashion of brightly coloured evening coats, bedecked with silver and huge gold buttons.
    Girls of similar age to her were, she noticed, uniformly dressed in white or pastel shades. For an instant she wished had paid heed to her mother, but then she held up her head and her beautiful hazel eyes flashed defiantly. She was not an insipid debutante on the lookout for a rich husband; she had a ring already on her finger.
    At last Emily and her mother were making their curtsey. Lady Galveston greeted them with unrestrained delight. Much kissing of cheeks and exclaiming took place before they were sent on their way to join the milling crowd thronging the Grand Salon. Lady Althea sailed ahead, the ostrich feathers in her head waving gaily.
    'We shall sit here, my love, close to the dance floor.' A lovely blonde girl sitting demurely on a chair next to her own mama smiled a welcome.
    Emily smiled back. 'I am Emily Gibson; this is my very first ball.' Her neighbour glanced to her mother for permission before answering.
     'I am Maria Fitzwilliam. I came out this summer, and this is only the third ball I have attended.'
    Lady Althea nodded to Mrs Fitzwilliam and she nodded back. Contact established the older woman settled down for a comfortable coze. The Fitzwilliam's were an excellent family and extremely well-connected. Edwards disappeared, discreetly, with their cloaks and Emily's spare slippers.
     A footman approached with a tray of champagne, followed closely by one with a tray of orgeat. The trays appeared identical. With a grin at her new friend Emily daringly selected champagne, Maria sensibly took the non-alcoholic beverage.
    Maria spotted Emily's engagement ring. Long gloves were de rigueur but it was permissible to have them finishing at the knuckles if one so wished.
    'Miss Gibson, you are betrothed. How lucky you are. I have still to find anyone remotely suitable.'
    Lady Althea smiled at her disingenuous remark. 'Viscount Yardley is an excellent match. My father, the Earl of Westerham, is delighted that his heir is to marry his granddaughter.'
    Maria was suitably impressed and Mrs Fitzwilliam as delighted as their hostess that such a lovely young heiress was already off the marriage mart.
    'Are you expecting Viscount Yardley to attend tonight?' Maria inquired politely.
    'No; I believe he is otherwise engaged. He is a diplomat and his time is not his own.' Lady Althea answered.
    Emily sipped her drink, enjoying the way the bubbles tickled her nose. It tasted delicious, cold and crisp. She took a large swallow and to her astonishment her world appeared to tilt alarmingly. Could it be her injury or this innocuous looking drink?
    An ungloved, male hand, reached over and removed the glass from her grasp. 'I believe, my love, that you have mistakenly selected champagne.'
    Her eyes flew up to meet the amused gaze of her fiancé. She was about to protest when a warning in his eyes made her swallow the words. She smiled ruefully as he pulled her to her feet.
    'I did not expect to see you here tonight, Sebastian, but I am pleased, of course, that you have come.'
    All four women were now on their feet. He bowed deeply to Lady Althea. 'I am delighted to see you looking so well, Lady Althea. It is quite clear from whom your daughter has inherited her beauty.'
    Lady Althea simpered and quite forgot she did not like her great-nephew. 'Allow me to introduce Mrs Fitzwilliam and her daughter, Miss Fitzwilliam, to you, my