The Debonair Duke by Emilyn Hendrickson Page A

Rose, who merely smiled and said nothing in reply.
    Back in her bedroom, she dismissed Rose. Then after slipping off the necklace, she replaced it on the bed of cream velvet with reverent care. It took a bit of searching before she managed to locate some paper in which to wrap the case, but once it was done, it looked sufficiently like the book of poetry to fool her mother.
    * * * *
    It was late in the afternoon, almost the time when society took to the lanes of Hyde Park for fashionable drives, when the duke arrived with Lady Anne, Pamela sat at her mother’s side trying to conceal her impatience and apprehension.
    To say that Lady Gresham was surprised to see them again in such a short time was putting it mildly. Pamela disliked the speculative looks coming her way from Mama during the brief call. If her mother acquired foolish notions, they could not be laid at Pamela’s feet. It wasn’t her idea that the necklace be transferred in this manner. Of course, if Lady Anne could persuade Mama to change her view of necklines, all to the better.
    “Dear Lady Gresham,” Lady Anne said in her winsome way, “I trust you and Lady Pamela will be attending Lady Sefton’s ball this coming week?”
    “We have sent our acceptances,” Lady Gresham admitted. Since the Sefton ball was the ball that everyone must attend to be considered true society, it was of utmost importance to be seen there. No one would refuse the invitation.
    “I am pleased we shall see you there.” Lady Anne said with a touch of complacency. She leaned forward in an attitude of confidentiality and lowered her voice. “Have you observed how the most proper young ladies have adopted a style that was once considered a trifle daring? Necklines, my lady,” Anne declared with a nod. “They are dipping lower than in past weeks. Surely, you have noticed such in your latest copy of the Repository,” she said, referring to the most recent issue of Rudolf Ackermann’s Repository of Arts that was placed on a nearby table. It was regarded by society as the essence of fashionable taste and refinement in apparel.
    “I had not paid any attention,” Lady Gresham confessed, most likely because she was reluctant to say she did not agree with the fashion to one who was most fashionable.
    “I imagine your daughter will be doing the same thing, I intend to do —that is, have my maid alter the necklines on my ball gowns so I will be au courant. One cannot permit oneself to drift into dull conformity to a past fashion, can one?” Lady Anne inquired with a limpid gaze into Lady Gresham’s confused eyes.
    “No, of course not,” Lady Gresham said with hesitation. “I feel sure that Rose will be able to make Pamela’s latest creation quite the thing.”
    “How lovely. Some maids are not so talented. Lady Pamela is fortunate you found her a maid with such skills.”
    By praising Lady Gresham for a small part in the entire business, Anne succeeded in assuring the success of the mission —to lower the ball gown neckline so as to best display the jewels.
    Before the guests departed, Pamela insisted that Lady Anne should enjoy a charming book of poetry. While hurrying to her room, Pamela decided that for an incurably honest girl, she was becoming something else entirely!
    A short time later, the duke ushered Lady Anne into his carriage with a most satisfied expression on his face.
    “You are in danger of growing smug, Your Grace,” Lady Anne said from the opposite seat of the carriage.
    “I do have rather good ideas, you must admit,” he replied, forgetting the idea was partly Pamela’s. “Give me the case and I shall tend to the letter and delivery of the same. Her dotty old great-uncle is about to become most cherished.”
    “How cynical, to think he could only be loved if he bestows a handsome gift on her.”
    “Perhaps not Lady Pamela, but certainly the mother,” the duke replied, silencing his friend. “I shall consult the peerage to find the precise direction