effect. By the time she climbed into her garnet-colored ball gown, she felt as if she were ready to jump out of her skin.
It… flickered . Her nerves were tight, sensitive to even the lightest touch, eager for even the slightest caress, and desperately hungry for more.
“Damn him.” She muttered that and various other injunctions as she hurried to get ready, hoping against hope that he had something planned to ease her sudden need, although how he might accomplish that within the confines of a ballroom, she had no clue.
Sinking onto the stool before her dressing table, she reached for her favorite perfume. Skinner came to stand behind her and started to unpin her hair.
“Is everything set for tonight?”
Reaching for her brush, Skinner nodded. “They’ll be waiting with the carriage in the lane like you wanted. Jessica knows to meet you in the library. Poor mite, she’s that desperate I’m sure she’d run away if we weren’t about to get her away.”
“Hmm. Keep an eye on her if you can. We don’t want her to do anything silly and make Stripes or anyone else suspicious.”
“I’ll mother-hen her. Are you going to change after the ball?”
Phoebe reviewed what she planned to do later, then shook her head. “The way’s clear enough. I shouldn’t need to.”
“In that case, I’ll stick with Jessica. I’ll stay with her once she’s settled her ladyship for the night, keep her company until it’s time to meet you.”
“Yes, I think that would be wise.”
A light tap fell on the door. Phoebe and Skinner exchanged a glance, then Skinner crossed to open it.
With a breezy smile, Audrey glided through. “There you are, dear. I hoped I’d catch you.”
Clad in ivory and black silk draped much like a toga, a gold-and-black silk turban swathing her head, Audrey crossed to the armchair to one side of the dressing table, her shrewd gaze taking in Phoebe’s gown. “That color becomes you, dear. What are you going to wear with it—your garnets and pearls?”
In the mirror, Phoebe glanced at Skinner, who had returned to work on her hair. “That’s what I’d planned.”
“Excellent.” Audrey sank elegantly into the armchair. “Both Edith and I are…well, heartened, and very pleased to see you making an effort.”
Phoebe wanted to turn and look at Audrey, but a hiss from Skinner and a tap with the comb warned her to keep her head straight.
Before she could formulate any sensible response, Audrey continued, “I thought perhaps I should mention that the Deverells, all the males that is, while being quite…well, not to put too fine a point on it, rakehellish through theirformative years, all of them—every last one throughout the family’s history—have become quite staid once they wed.”
From the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw Audrey tilt her head, considering, then she added, “I’ve never been sure that the two states weren’t connected. That the latter wasn’t a direct consequence of the experience of the former, if you take my meaning.”
Audrey fell silent; Phoebe wasn’t sure what to say. Then Audrey spoke again.
“Your mother and I were very close. We shared all our hopes and dreams. I’ve told you that before, but there’s one story I haven’t mentioned, and I feel now is the time. When I was young—younger than you, about twenty-two—I had a beau and thought I was in love. For all I know I was, but my father was quite sure my suitor was a wastrel and he forbade the match. In those days I wasn’t quite so independent as I’ve since become, and while I sulked, I can’t say I fought all that hard. But…” Audrey shrugged lightly.
Phoebe frowned. “You’ve never stopped loving him?”
Audrey blinked her eyes wide. “Oh, no—it wasn’t like that. My father was quite right—poor Hubert was a wastrel. No, it’s not that I’ve been carrying a torch for him all these years. But what I have often wondered was, What might have been?
“You see, dear, we never do
It… flickered . Her nerves were tight, sensitive to even the lightest touch, eager for even the slightest caress, and desperately hungry for more.
“Damn him.” She muttered that and various other injunctions as she hurried to get ready, hoping against hope that he had something planned to ease her sudden need, although how he might accomplish that within the confines of a ballroom, she had no clue.
Sinking onto the stool before her dressing table, she reached for her favorite perfume. Skinner came to stand behind her and started to unpin her hair.
“Is everything set for tonight?”
Reaching for her brush, Skinner nodded. “They’ll be waiting with the carriage in the lane like you wanted. Jessica knows to meet you in the library. Poor mite, she’s that desperate I’m sure she’d run away if we weren’t about to get her away.”
“Hmm. Keep an eye on her if you can. We don’t want her to do anything silly and make Stripes or anyone else suspicious.”
“I’ll mother-hen her. Are you going to change after the ball?”
Phoebe reviewed what she planned to do later, then shook her head. “The way’s clear enough. I shouldn’t need to.”
“In that case, I’ll stick with Jessica. I’ll stay with her once she’s settled her ladyship for the night, keep her company until it’s time to meet you.”
“Yes, I think that would be wise.”
A light tap fell on the door. Phoebe and Skinner exchanged a glance, then Skinner crossed to open it.
With a breezy smile, Audrey glided through. “There you are, dear. I hoped I’d catch you.”
Clad in ivory and black silk draped much like a toga, a gold-and-black silk turban swathing her head, Audrey crossed to the armchair to one side of the dressing table, her shrewd gaze taking in Phoebe’s gown. “That color becomes you, dear. What are you going to wear with it—your garnets and pearls?”
In the mirror, Phoebe glanced at Skinner, who had returned to work on her hair. “That’s what I’d planned.”
“Excellent.” Audrey sank elegantly into the armchair. “Both Edith and I are…well, heartened, and very pleased to see you making an effort.”
Phoebe wanted to turn and look at Audrey, but a hiss from Skinner and a tap with the comb warned her to keep her head straight.
Before she could formulate any sensible response, Audrey continued, “I thought perhaps I should mention that the Deverells, all the males that is, while being quite…well, not to put too fine a point on it, rakehellish through theirformative years, all of them—every last one throughout the family’s history—have become quite staid once they wed.”
From the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw Audrey tilt her head, considering, then she added, “I’ve never been sure that the two states weren’t connected. That the latter wasn’t a direct consequence of the experience of the former, if you take my meaning.”
Audrey fell silent; Phoebe wasn’t sure what to say. Then Audrey spoke again.
“Your mother and I were very close. We shared all our hopes and dreams. I’ve told you that before, but there’s one story I haven’t mentioned, and I feel now is the time. When I was young—younger than you, about twenty-two—I had a beau and thought I was in love. For all I know I was, but my father was quite sure my suitor was a wastrel and he forbade the match. In those days I wasn’t quite so independent as I’ve since become, and while I sulked, I can’t say I fought all that hard. But…” Audrey shrugged lightly.
Phoebe frowned. “You’ve never stopped loving him?”
Audrey blinked her eyes wide. “Oh, no—it wasn’t like that. My father was quite right—poor Hubert was a wastrel. No, it’s not that I’ve been carrying a torch for him all these years. But what I have often wondered was, What might have been?
“You see, dear, we never do
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