dignitaries, glad to be relieved of embarrassment, cheered wildly.
Molly held up her hands for silence. “And now,” she cried, “I would like James Benson, Joseph Willicombe, and Henry Beddings to receive three cheers for behaving like true Boy Scouts in unusual and embarrassing circumstances.” More wild cheers.
Then Molly delivered her master stroke. “We are, however, fortunate in having with us today Lady Holden’s dear friend who, I feel sure, will be glad to stand in for her. Lady Ann Abbott.”
Lady Ann Abbott sailed to the front of the platform, her bosom heaving with gratification. She pulled down the front of her sensible tweed jacket, casting a pitying look at her fallen rival. She, Ann, had been looking forward to telling Fanny exactly how badly she, Fanny, had behaved. But enough was enough. Lady Abbott was having her moment of triumph and could afford to be magnanimous. Poor, dear Fanny should never hear of her disgrace from
her
. Which was exactly what the clever Miss Molly Maguire had planned.
Lord David and his friend, Roddy, Marquess of Leamouth, walked thoughtfully away from the prize-giving.
“She’s divine, you know. Absolutely divine,” said Roddy. “I wouldn’t do anything to upset her for the world.”
“She’s a militant baggage,” snapped Lord David. “Didn’t you see the way she stood up and made that speech? Not a feminine nerve in her whole body.”
“Oh, not
that
one,” said Roddy. “Her sister. The quiet one who stood at the back. What’s her name?”
“Mary,” replied Lord David, who had made it his business to find out as much as possible about the Maguire sisters.
“Mary,” breathed Roddy.
Lord David smiled at him indulgently. “You’re always falling head over heels in love with unsuitable females.”
“This one’s not unsuitable,” said Roddy. “She’s an angel.”
“An angel who sounds as if she hailed from one of the less salubrious parts of New York,” said his friend dryly.
“Snob,” said Roddy, turning back for a last look at Mary. “I’ll lay siege to Miss Mary Maguire, David, but my intentions will be honorable.”
Lord David smiled to himself. Roddy’s intentions were
always
honorable. That was part of his charm.
“And,” Roddy was going on, “when do we get a chance to get close to the girls?”
“After today,” replied Lord David, “I think that Lady Ann will send them a hurried last-minute invitation to her daughter’s ball. She had no intention of asking them, you know, but after Miss Molly’s performance today I have no doubt she will be all over them.”
Roddy looked slyly at his friend. “Don’t you think you’re going to have a bit of a hard time with the fair Molly?”
“Oh, she’ll come around,” said his lordship with maddening assurance. “I’ve never had any difficulty before.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Despite all his much-vaunted assurance, Lord David found himself strangely nervous as he stood at the edge of the Abbotts’ ballroom and waited for the arrival of the Maguire sisters.
The long French windows of the ballroom were open onto the gardens. Brightly colored lanterns were strung through the trees. Vincent and His Melody Makers, specially imported from London, were playing a Viennese waltz with gusto. Great banks of hothouse flowers bloomed against the walls of the ballroom. All the most elegant members of the county were present and even a few sprigs of the nobility had traveled in from other summer parts, drawn by Lady Ann’s well-deserved reputation for lavish hospitality.
The band hit a triumphant last chord and the voice of the majordomo could be heard announcing, “Miss Molly Maguire and Miss Mary Maguire.” He looked eagerly around.
The Maguire sisters were coming slowly down the red-carpeted stairs. They were dressed in ball gowns of white and silver gauze, and real white rosebuds were threaded through the glossy black curls of their hair. With their startling blue eyes, creamy
Molly held up her hands for silence. “And now,” she cried, “I would like James Benson, Joseph Willicombe, and Henry Beddings to receive three cheers for behaving like true Boy Scouts in unusual and embarrassing circumstances.” More wild cheers.
Then Molly delivered her master stroke. “We are, however, fortunate in having with us today Lady Holden’s dear friend who, I feel sure, will be glad to stand in for her. Lady Ann Abbott.”
Lady Ann Abbott sailed to the front of the platform, her bosom heaving with gratification. She pulled down the front of her sensible tweed jacket, casting a pitying look at her fallen rival. She, Ann, had been looking forward to telling Fanny exactly how badly she, Fanny, had behaved. But enough was enough. Lady Abbott was having her moment of triumph and could afford to be magnanimous. Poor, dear Fanny should never hear of her disgrace from
her
. Which was exactly what the clever Miss Molly Maguire had planned.
Lord David and his friend, Roddy, Marquess of Leamouth, walked thoughtfully away from the prize-giving.
“She’s divine, you know. Absolutely divine,” said Roddy. “I wouldn’t do anything to upset her for the world.”
“She’s a militant baggage,” snapped Lord David. “Didn’t you see the way she stood up and made that speech? Not a feminine nerve in her whole body.”
“Oh, not
that
one,” said Roddy. “Her sister. The quiet one who stood at the back. What’s her name?”
“Mary,” replied Lord David, who had made it his business to find out as much as possible about the Maguire sisters.
“Mary,” breathed Roddy.
Lord David smiled at him indulgently. “You’re always falling head over heels in love with unsuitable females.”
“This one’s not unsuitable,” said Roddy. “She’s an angel.”
“An angel who sounds as if she hailed from one of the less salubrious parts of New York,” said his friend dryly.
“Snob,” said Roddy, turning back for a last look at Mary. “I’ll lay siege to Miss Mary Maguire, David, but my intentions will be honorable.”
Lord David smiled to himself. Roddy’s intentions were
always
honorable. That was part of his charm.
“And,” Roddy was going on, “when do we get a chance to get close to the girls?”
“After today,” replied Lord David, “I think that Lady Ann will send them a hurried last-minute invitation to her daughter’s ball. She had no intention of asking them, you know, but after Miss Molly’s performance today I have no doubt she will be all over them.”
Roddy looked slyly at his friend. “Don’t you think you’re going to have a bit of a hard time with the fair Molly?”
“Oh, she’ll come around,” said his lordship with maddening assurance. “I’ve never had any difficulty before.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Despite all his much-vaunted assurance, Lord David found himself strangely nervous as he stood at the edge of the Abbotts’ ballroom and waited for the arrival of the Maguire sisters.
The long French windows of the ballroom were open onto the gardens. Brightly colored lanterns were strung through the trees. Vincent and His Melody Makers, specially imported from London, were playing a Viennese waltz with gusto. Great banks of hothouse flowers bloomed against the walls of the ballroom. All the most elegant members of the county were present and even a few sprigs of the nobility had traveled in from other summer parts, drawn by Lady Ann’s well-deserved reputation for lavish hospitality.
The band hit a triumphant last chord and the voice of the majordomo could be heard announcing, “Miss Molly Maguire and Miss Mary Maguire.” He looked eagerly around.
The Maguire sisters were coming slowly down the red-carpeted stairs. They were dressed in ball gowns of white and silver gauze, and real white rosebuds were threaded through the glossy black curls of their hair. With their startling blue eyes, creamy
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