for his arrival, he had handed the girls quickly into his grandmother’s barouche, instructing the coachman to drive like the wind. Apart from murmuring the customary polite exchanges, any further bids at conversation on his part had been limited to banal observations regarding the unusual clemency of the weather.
His thoughts had still been otherwise engaged when, having escorted his guests up the steps into his grandmother’s residence, he had stood aside to allow the waiting footmen to relieve them of their cloaks. But then, as his gaze had travelled idly towards the pair, his breath had seemed to catch in his throat and he had found it impossible to drag his eyes away from the entirely unexpected vision they beheld.
Helena, her wide blue eyes shining with a combination of excitement and trepidation, stood silently waiting his directions. She was clad in a gown of straw-coloured satin, the deceptively simple cut of which merely served to accentuate every delicious curve of her body; her hair, caught back with a pair of diamond encrusted combs, fell about her shoulders in a cascade of shining chestnut curls.
For several moments, due to his inability to take a full breath, Richard had been lost for words. Luckily, the arrival of Lady Isobel, who had appeared at the top of the stairs, demanding to know what could be keeping them, had saved him from further ignominy.
‘Come quickly, do!’ she had exhorted them. ‘Several of our guests have already arrived!’ And after focusing her lorgnette swiftly over the two girls’ appearance, she had pronounced herself satisfied, even going so far as to commend Lottie on the bronze shot-silk of her gown—and thereby earning that young woman’s undying reverence—by adding, ‘I was rather taken with that fabric myself, my dear. It becomes you very well.’
And so had begun the tedious process of meeting and greeting the seemingly endless procession of the more than one hundred acquaintances who had turned up to inspect the countess’s protégée and which, from Richard’s point of view, was proving to be one of the most agonisingly frustrating evenings he had ever spent. He was prepared to wager that, from the very moment that they clapped their eyes on her, Helena would have no difficulty in winning the instant approval of at least fifty per cent of the gathering. Sadly, as he well knew, any real success that she might be accorded would depend, to a certain extent, upon the wives of that aforementioned fifty per cent but, more especially, upon the mercurial caprices of the small, but notoriously hard-to-please, group of elderly tabbies who ruled the roost at Almack’s. They alone would dictate who would and who would not be accepted into their ‘magic circle’.
Turning his head, he allowed his eyes to feast once more on Helena’s lovely face and found himself hoping against hope that she would find favour. He was, however, no man’s fool and was well aware that it would take a good deal more than mere beauty to endear her to some of this present company. That her mother had held a peerage in her own right would raise her standing by some degrees, it was true but, even when coupled with her obvious charms and attractively modest manner, there was simply no getting away from the fact that Helena was still nothing more than the daughter of a city stockbroker which, had not the man been almost as rich as Golden Ball himself, would have placed her well beyond the Pale!
Just then, as the light from the huge overhead chandelier struck the diamond pendant that dangled from its chain aroundHelena’s slender neck, Richard’s attention was immediately caught by the brilliant sparkle that emanated from the jewel. Blinking, he flicked his eyes away from the flashing gemstone, only to have them fasten upon the gown’s low-cut neckline, from which swelled, in all its enticing glory, the provocative fullness of her creamy bosom.
Swallowing hard, he forced himself to drag his
His thoughts had still been otherwise engaged when, having escorted his guests up the steps into his grandmother’s residence, he had stood aside to allow the waiting footmen to relieve them of their cloaks. But then, as his gaze had travelled idly towards the pair, his breath had seemed to catch in his throat and he had found it impossible to drag his eyes away from the entirely unexpected vision they beheld.
Helena, her wide blue eyes shining with a combination of excitement and trepidation, stood silently waiting his directions. She was clad in a gown of straw-coloured satin, the deceptively simple cut of which merely served to accentuate every delicious curve of her body; her hair, caught back with a pair of diamond encrusted combs, fell about her shoulders in a cascade of shining chestnut curls.
For several moments, due to his inability to take a full breath, Richard had been lost for words. Luckily, the arrival of Lady Isobel, who had appeared at the top of the stairs, demanding to know what could be keeping them, had saved him from further ignominy.
‘Come quickly, do!’ she had exhorted them. ‘Several of our guests have already arrived!’ And after focusing her lorgnette swiftly over the two girls’ appearance, she had pronounced herself satisfied, even going so far as to commend Lottie on the bronze shot-silk of her gown—and thereby earning that young woman’s undying reverence—by adding, ‘I was rather taken with that fabric myself, my dear. It becomes you very well.’
And so had begun the tedious process of meeting and greeting the seemingly endless procession of the more than one hundred acquaintances who had turned up to inspect the countess’s protégée and which, from Richard’s point of view, was proving to be one of the most agonisingly frustrating evenings he had ever spent. He was prepared to wager that, from the very moment that they clapped their eyes on her, Helena would have no difficulty in winning the instant approval of at least fifty per cent of the gathering. Sadly, as he well knew, any real success that she might be accorded would depend, to a certain extent, upon the wives of that aforementioned fifty per cent but, more especially, upon the mercurial caprices of the small, but notoriously hard-to-please, group of elderly tabbies who ruled the roost at Almack’s. They alone would dictate who would and who would not be accepted into their ‘magic circle’.
Turning his head, he allowed his eyes to feast once more on Helena’s lovely face and found himself hoping against hope that she would find favour. He was, however, no man’s fool and was well aware that it would take a good deal more than mere beauty to endear her to some of this present company. That her mother had held a peerage in her own right would raise her standing by some degrees, it was true but, even when coupled with her obvious charms and attractively modest manner, there was simply no getting away from the fact that Helena was still nothing more than the daughter of a city stockbroker which, had not the man been almost as rich as Golden Ball himself, would have placed her well beyond the Pale!
Just then, as the light from the huge overhead chandelier struck the diamond pendant that dangled from its chain aroundHelena’s slender neck, Richard’s attention was immediately caught by the brilliant sparkle that emanated from the jewel. Blinking, he flicked his eyes away from the flashing gemstone, only to have them fasten upon the gown’s low-cut neckline, from which swelled, in all its enticing glory, the provocative fullness of her creamy bosom.
Swallowing hard, he forced himself to drag his
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