her hands. The arrogance of the man. Well, he would not get the better of her.
Chapter Four
A few hours later. Lavinia sat in front other mirror watching Mary, her maid, pile her gleaming ringlets into a confection of tumbling curls and silken ribbons. On the bed lay her gown. A froth of sea-green and silver, a splash of elegance against the rich baroque style favoured by Lady Elizabeth. Indeed as she had confided in Lavinia shortly after the latter’s arrival in London. she lived in constant hope of being invited to view the magnificent structure Horace Walpole was having built out at Strawberry Hill.
Mary stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Powder, Miss?” she enquired. “Perhaps the new grey My Lady purchased the other day?”
Lavinia shook her head resolutely. “No, I think not, Mary.” She wrinkled her nose alittle. “I always feel as if I am walking in a cloud of dust. No, leave it as it is.”
“To be sure, ‘tis a vastly pretty colour, Miss. I vow there won’t be another lady at the rout to touch you …”
Lavinia’s eyes twinkled. “You flatter me, Mary.”
Before she could say any more, a slight rustling at the door heralded the arrival of Lady Elizabeth. “Ah good, you are nearly ready, my love. ” She stopped short as she saw her cousin’s russet locks. “You are never going unpowdered. Oh, Lavinia, you will be thought the veriest country dowd.”
Lavinia laughed gaily. “I care not.”
Lady Elizabeth looked a trifle doubtful. “It will be thought vastly odd of you, to be sure. You must remember that you are in London now,” she reproved. She eyed her cousin a little curiously. The girl had visited Saltaire of all people.
Lavinia’s thoughts were running on similar lines. Despite her apparent gaiety, she could not forget the events of the afternoon. lf Richard were to find out … She bit her lip. She did not want him to lose his life in some senseless duel. If only she had not been so foolish.
“Lavinia?”
She looked up. “Oh, I’m sorry, cousin. I wasjust thinking of the matter we were discussing this afternoon.”
Lady Elizabeth frowned warningly at Mary’s back. Say anything in the servants’ hearing and it was common knowledge in the town within the space of a morning.
Lavinia, correctly interpreting her cousin’s glance, said, “Please don’t say a word to Richard.”
“No-we can’t have him doing anything foolish like calling Saltaire out.”
Since these were precisely Lavinia’s own thoughts, her cousin’s words did nothing to uplift her feelings, and she had to content herself with saying coldly, “I assure you, Madam, there is no possible reason for my brother to do any such thing.”
“No, no, indeed not,” hastily averred Lady Elizabeth. “I’m sure I never meant any such thing, but these young boys …”
Richard’s voice in the hall below put an end to the discussion. Lady Elizabeth gave a last anxious glance in the mirror. “This rouge, I vow it makes me look positively hagridden. What do you think, Lavinia?”
Lavinia smiled fondly. “You look very well, cousin. I’m sure your head will cause quite a stir.”
Lady Elizabeth patted it complacently. “To be sure, ‘tis the very latest from Paris, there will be nothing to touch it.”
Her hair was indeed, to say the very least, eye catching. It towered above Lady Elizabeth’s head, festooned with ribbons, fruit and flowers and bedecked with a stuffed bird of doubtful plumage, which she had assured the awestruck Lavinia was quite definitely all the rage.
As the two ladies descended the stairs in a cloud of bergamot and rustling silk, Richard was pacing the floor of the hall, glancing from time to time at the fine fob watch he had in his hand.
“Ah, there you are. About time too,” he greeted them.
“Richard, do you come with us to Lady Fitzallen’s?” enquired Lavinia.
“No,” Richard shook his head, his eyes fixed pleadingly on his sister’s face. “I’m engaged to
Chapter Four
A few hours later. Lavinia sat in front other mirror watching Mary, her maid, pile her gleaming ringlets into a confection of tumbling curls and silken ribbons. On the bed lay her gown. A froth of sea-green and silver, a splash of elegance against the rich baroque style favoured by Lady Elizabeth. Indeed as she had confided in Lavinia shortly after the latter’s arrival in London. she lived in constant hope of being invited to view the magnificent structure Horace Walpole was having built out at Strawberry Hill.
Mary stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Powder, Miss?” she enquired. “Perhaps the new grey My Lady purchased the other day?”
Lavinia shook her head resolutely. “No, I think not, Mary.” She wrinkled her nose alittle. “I always feel as if I am walking in a cloud of dust. No, leave it as it is.”
“To be sure, ‘tis a vastly pretty colour, Miss. I vow there won’t be another lady at the rout to touch you …”
Lavinia’s eyes twinkled. “You flatter me, Mary.”
Before she could say any more, a slight rustling at the door heralded the arrival of Lady Elizabeth. “Ah good, you are nearly ready, my love. ” She stopped short as she saw her cousin’s russet locks. “You are never going unpowdered. Oh, Lavinia, you will be thought the veriest country dowd.”
Lavinia laughed gaily. “I care not.”
Lady Elizabeth looked a trifle doubtful. “It will be thought vastly odd of you, to be sure. You must remember that you are in London now,” she reproved. She eyed her cousin a little curiously. The girl had visited Saltaire of all people.
Lavinia’s thoughts were running on similar lines. Despite her apparent gaiety, she could not forget the events of the afternoon. lf Richard were to find out … She bit her lip. She did not want him to lose his life in some senseless duel. If only she had not been so foolish.
“Lavinia?”
She looked up. “Oh, I’m sorry, cousin. I wasjust thinking of the matter we were discussing this afternoon.”
Lady Elizabeth frowned warningly at Mary’s back. Say anything in the servants’ hearing and it was common knowledge in the town within the space of a morning.
Lavinia, correctly interpreting her cousin’s glance, said, “Please don’t say a word to Richard.”
“No-we can’t have him doing anything foolish like calling Saltaire out.”
Since these were precisely Lavinia’s own thoughts, her cousin’s words did nothing to uplift her feelings, and she had to content herself with saying coldly, “I assure you, Madam, there is no possible reason for my brother to do any such thing.”
“No, no, indeed not,” hastily averred Lady Elizabeth. “I’m sure I never meant any such thing, but these young boys …”
Richard’s voice in the hall below put an end to the discussion. Lady Elizabeth gave a last anxious glance in the mirror. “This rouge, I vow it makes me look positively hagridden. What do you think, Lavinia?”
Lavinia smiled fondly. “You look very well, cousin. I’m sure your head will cause quite a stir.”
Lady Elizabeth patted it complacently. “To be sure, ‘tis the very latest from Paris, there will be nothing to touch it.”
Her hair was indeed, to say the very least, eye catching. It towered above Lady Elizabeth’s head, festooned with ribbons, fruit and flowers and bedecked with a stuffed bird of doubtful plumage, which she had assured the awestruck Lavinia was quite definitely all the rage.
As the two ladies descended the stairs in a cloud of bergamot and rustling silk, Richard was pacing the floor of the hall, glancing from time to time at the fine fob watch he had in his hand.
“Ah, there you are. About time too,” he greeted them.
“Richard, do you come with us to Lady Fitzallen’s?” enquired Lavinia.
“No,” Richard shook his head, his eyes fixed pleadingly on his sister’s face. “I’m engaged to
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