In a Class of His Own by Georgia Hill Page A

and looked me up and down, giving a soft wolf-whistle under his
breath. “My oh my.” He was openly staring at my cleavage. He
swallowed and then recovered himself. “I have to say, those
Victorians knew a thing or two when it came to fashion!”
    Rupert
was looking pretty good himself, so I returned the compliment. He was
dressed in a dark frock coat which reached to his knees. Under it he
wore a gold brocade waistcoat and a high-necked shirt. A cream cravat
completed the outfit. It suited his long hair and good looks and made
him look rakishly attractive.
    “Like
to dance?” he asked with an infectious grin.
    “Love
to,” I beamed.
    An
hour later I was leaning against a trestle table desperately trying
to ignore the enticing smells coming from the buffet. I took a long
draught of wine instead. I didn’t dare eat anything as I didn’t
want to risk bursting out of my dress. Not, I thought, a very
Victorian thing to do. I took another gulp of wine. I was hot and the
bones of my bodice were digging in painfully. I’d danced with
Rupert
until I’d begged him to give me a break. Dad had tried his hardest
to teach me some basic steps and I thought Rupert and I had made
quite a dashing pair on the floor. I’d certainly enjoyed myself. I
liked him enormously, there was something about his easy charm which
reminded me of Andy.
    “Nicola!”
Mona swept majestically into view. “What a splendid evening this
has proved to be! May I top up your glass?”
    I
accepted gratefully and fanned myself with a holly decorated paper
serviette. Then I did a double take as I took in her appearance.
“Mona,
you look incredible! Where did you get that dress from?”
    Mona
did indeed look wonderful. Her low cut and tight fitting black dress
was studded all over with tiny droplets of jet. In her hair she wore
a great plume of glossy black feathers, again decorated with jet
beads. Every time she moved her dress caught the light so that she
shimmered exotically. There was something of the black cat about her
tonight. Sleek and knowing.
    “Do
you like it? It’s one of my favourites.” She smoothed a
complacent hand over the skirt. “I wore it when we did ‘My Fair
Lady’ this year. It is rather gorgeous, isn’t it?”
    I
choked on my wine. “Are you a member of The Players?” I looked at
her in astonishment. The Players were a local amateur dramatic group,
famous in the county and beyond for their high standards. It was
almost impossible to join. They’d even raised funds to build their
own theatre in the town.
I couldn’t imagine the starchy, reserved Mona being a member. First
yoga, then amateur dramatics. The woman was full of surprises.
    “Oh
yes Nicola,” she said, with barely concealed pride. “I’ve been
a member since 1983. We’re doing ‘Six Characters in Search of an
Author’ next year. You must come along.”
    She
smiled at my expression. She knew exactly what was going through my
mind and was enjoying
it a little too much. A black cat I thought again. And I’d been
right about the knowing air.
    “Mona,
you’re amazing, you really are.” I began to laugh and then
trailed off as I saw Ann dancing yet again with Jack. A stab of
jealousy joined the pain caused by my bodice.
    Mona’s
eyes followed mine. My face must, as usual, have revealed my
feelings. She put a lace-gloved hand on my arm.
    “I
don’t think you have any concerns there , my dear.” She lowered her voice and added, “I think her
attentions are directed towards someone else.”
    Startled,
I looked at Mona
and saw her nod in Rupert’s direction. He was standing near the
orchestra, chatting to Janice. He saw us staring at him, grinned and
lifted his glass in a salute.
    “You
mean?” I couldn’t get my head around this. I thought back to what
Ann had said when we were getting changed. Could it have applied as
equally to Rupert as to Jack? And if so, how on earth did she feel
about me dancing with him all night?
    “But
Mona, when did this all