Saffina's Season by Flora Dain

partly to honor the old queen’s birthday.
    Invitations were highly prized. Everyone wanted to be there because everyone knew its real purpose—for the prince to reveal his new mistress.
    Society was all agog, apart from Jacquard. He yawned whenever I quizzed him on the topic. I even pestered him while we’d made love.
    “Spare me,” he groaned. “Piccadilly’s full of it. The real surprise is that he’s kept a secret at all.”
    “But somebody must know who she is.” My friends had talked of nothing else for weeks.
    “I suppose the lady knows, and I suppose the prince knows.” Jacquard grinned, as he dropped a precise line of soft kisses all along my throat. “So it hardly matters who else knows. I, for one, couldn’t care less. Now turn over on your front this time. I want to pay some attention to this .”
    With a hearty slap on my rump, he covered me from behind, and in seconds I’d forgotten all about the prince and his new mystery lady as Jacquard had his wicked way with my backside.
    But as I dressed for the ball, it was impossible not to feel excited. Tonight we’d witness a tiny piece of history. The mistress of a prince always caused a stir and held great power. Society flocked to her door.
    With Jacquard and me there to witness it, I’d see the birth of some new legend in her own right.
    In my looking glass, I gazed entranced at my own transformation, with diamonds sparkling in my hair and blazing around my neck. At this very minute, somewhere in London, another lady much like me was doing the same. But by the end of the evening, I’d be just a weary countess with feet tired from dancing, while she’d have stepped into legend.
    A star is born…
    “Ready, ma’am?” Jacquard, fresh from his valet, was leaning in the doorway. He looked the image of classical perfection, his lean, handsome face lighting up with a wide, appreciative smile at the sight of me.
    At least this weary countess will have a rich, madly handsome earl to come home with and not some fat, jowly prince to amuse for the rest of the night.
     
    * * * *
     
    Carlton House was ablaze with light, jewels and beauty. Champagne fizzed, conversation sparkled. The buffet tables held a vast assortment of savories, sweets and spun-sugar confections shaped like swans.
    Everything glittered.
    I lost Jacquard once or twice in the crowd, but each time he appeared from nowhere, putting his arm around my waist to steal a kiss. At my startled look, he grinned.
    “In a crush like this, who’s to know?”
    His whispered murmur thrilled me.
    At the end of the evening, we’ll be alone. I can kiss him where I want to kiss him. He can fondle me like he wants to fondle me.
    At that moment the orchestra blew a fanfare and the prince appeared to wild applause. He beamed around at the crowd, swaying a little.
    “Looks like he’s been at the port again.” Jacquard’s quiet growl was meant for my ears alone. Onlookers nearby covered a smile.
    The regent greeted the company, only slightly slurring.
    “Good evening, one and all. I now have the greatest pleasure in unveiling the portrait of a lady most high in my affections, as I’m sure you’ve all heard.”
    More applause broke out as a bevy of beauties pushed through to the front, among them Lady Hornsea, elbowing the others out of the way to get as close as she could. The look on her face and a dig in the ribs from Jacquard hinted that this was indeed the lady of the hour.
    Now the prince pulled a cord to roll back some drapes. Behind them, an easel was placed on a dais. It held a painting covered with an elegant fold of velvet.
    The prince beamed around again. “And, ladies and gentlemen, here she is. Voilà. ”
    At a drumroll from the orchestra, he twitched away the cloth—to reveal my portrait.
    Dumbstruck, I stared in helpless horror. Faces turned to me in shock.
    My first thought was the painting was sensational. My pose was lewd, my expression alluring. The magnificent diamonds I was