A Virtuous Lady by Elizabeth Thornton Page A

altogether, however, for he and Avery seemed to have many acquaintances in Richmond and Twickenham and he was frequently in attendance at the small house parties which were assembled to pass the tedium of the long winter months. Briony was quick to perceive that even a man of Ravensworth's unsavory reputation was courted by eager hostesses, and when she queried Harriet, she was informed that whatever the state of his lordship's morals, his manners were impeccable and any hostess who had enticed him to her board could be considered to have a feather in her cap and something to crow about.
    Briony could not fathom why Ravensworth sought out her company when he had frequently indicated that his autocratic father intended him for another, but she put it down to the incomprehensible ways of the ton in which she was a novice. She looked forward to the prospective sojourn in town, where she hoped that she might be so much in company that it would be less obvious that she was trying to avoid the man whom she found so unsettling to her usual tranquility.
     
    The Marquess of Ravensworth smiled devilishly at his darkly handsome reflection in the cheval mirror in his dressing room in Albany House, and his lordship's valet, Denby, waiting patiently in the background to ease his master's broad back into a snug-fitting coat, noted the fleeting look and speculated on what devilment his master was contemplating.
    With a delicate hand, the Marquess adjusted his fine lawn neckcloth which was intricately folded in a style commonly known as "a la Ravensworth" and he surveyed the result with a critical eye. His hair, which he wore rather long and disheveled, was in the "Titus" mode. Ravensworth's locks, however, owed nothing to art. His closely curled hair was honestly come by, for it was a distinguishing feature of all the Montgomerys .
    He allowed a solicitous Denby to smooth his coat of blue superfine over his broad, muscular shoulders and he pulled the front open a trifle to reveal a white satin waistcoat heavily embroidered with silver thread.
    "What do you think?" asked Ravensworth. "The diamond or the sapphire?" Denby considered. He appraised his master's figure from the top of his curled locks to the tips of his black kid pumps fastened with ribbons. He noted with approval the exquisitely tailored fit of the Weston coat, and the white satin breeches with matching waistcoat and silk stockings.
    "The sapphire would be more noticeable, my lord." Ravensworth's hand reached out to retrieve a sapphire pin from a box which his valet had extended. "But so predictable! May I suggest the diamond?"
    Ravensworth smiled in approval of his valet's sagacity and adroitly positioned a large, square diamond to the folds of his immaculate neckcloth . Denby was highly gratified that his lordship, in matters of taste, invariably deferred to his superior knowledge. The Marquess moved to his dresser and from a flask poured some cologne, which he dashed generously on his tanned visage.
    "Is this a special occasion, my lord?" asked the valet politely, wondering at his master's unwonted preoccupation with his looks.
    Ravensworth smiled one of his endearing, slow smiles. "You could say that, Denby. Yes, I think that this may prove to be an exceptional evening." It was only later that Ravensworth remembered these heedless words and the irony of them was not lost on him.
     
    Harriet Grenfell was playing lady's maid to her cousin Briony as she helped her dress for a small party which was to be their first dress-up engagement of the Season. She stood irresolutely with thick ropes of Briony's hair entwined in her fingers and tried unsuccessfully to pin them to the crown of Briony's head. The coils slipped out of her hands and cascaded over Briony's shoulders and back.
    "Botheration," exclaimed Harriet in exasperation. "Briony, this will never do! Why don't we ask Aunt Sophy's abigail to shear this. . . stuff from your head. It's so unfashionable, dear. Now wouldn't you