Read Online How to Propose to a Prince by Kathryn Caskie - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathryn Caskie
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with her to the passage. “Come, let us away.”
The ladies collected their wraps, fans, and reticules from the entryway table, and the cadre was about to depart the house when Mrs. Polkshank called out. “Miss Elizabeth! Might I have a moment before you leave, if you please?”
Elizabeth turned her head and glanced over her shoulder at Cook, feeling very confused “Certainly.”
“Hold still just a tick, miss. There is a dark spot on your gown.” Mrs. Polkshank rushed forward. “Oh, I would not intrude on your party, but I know how important this gown is to you. Everything must be perfect.”
Elizabeth froze, not daring to move. “Are you sure there is a spot? I saw nothing.”
“I do not see anything marring the gown at all. Elizabeth looks perfect to me.” Lady Upperton lifted a quizzing glass from her reticule and peered through it. “What are you going on about, Cook?”
Mrs. Polkshank pulled a rag from the waistband of her apron and touched it to her tongue, then dabbed a tiny area on Elizabeth’s back just below her shoulder blade. “Looks like a speck of blood. Got it, though. The trick to getting a bloodstain out is never letting the blood dry.”
Elizabeth gasped and spun around to look in the mirror. The cat had scratched her back. Had she bled onto the gown? She squinted her eyes, but like Mrs. Polkshank had said, there was no indication of blood on the gown.
Elizabeth’s stomach tightened then and she thought she might become ill. For though there was no blood on the gown, there was now a saliva stain the size and shape of a guinea.
“’Ere now, just keep your wrap over your shoulders until you arrive. It’ll all be dry by then, and no one will be the wiser.” Mrs. Polkshank eased Elizabeth’s shawl around her. “Good luck, Miss Elizabeth.” She winked.“Though you won’t need it, will you? I believe in your dream. Tonight your prince will come.”
Lady Upperton turned Elizabeth around and marched her through the door and into a carriage waiting before the house on Berkeley Square.
Everything was supposed to be perfect. But suddenly it wasn’t.
Something wasn’t right.
Elizabeth could feel a sense of foreboding vibrating through her body, like a plucked too-tight violin string the moment before it breaks…and the music dies.
Chapter 5
Almack’s Assembly Rooms
F or an exclusive gathering, Elizabeth was quite astounded by the sheer magnitude of the number of guests present. Truth to tell, within thirty minutes she was utterly convinced that every citizen of even the slightest social prominence was present in Almack’s this night.
Everyone, that is, except the one person she longed to behold: her prince.
She snatched a glass of carrack punch from the passing silver salver of a footman who seemed wholly focused on finding a trail along the perimeter of the overcrowded assembly room. The shifting pathway practically assuredeventual collision with a guest, most of whom were too preoccupied with seeing and being seen to notice a dozen glasses of sloshing liquid headed directly for them.
Glancing anxiously down at her precious gown, she recalled the moment of horror in her dream—when a stream of red trickled over her bodice—and a bone-chilling sense of doom fell over her like a death shroud. Shuddering, Elizabeth turned away from the footman, not wishing to view the inevitable sartorial disaster.
“There you are, my dear.” Lord Gallantine clamped his hand around Elizabeth’s wrist, making her glass of punch tilt precariously in her gloved fingers. Her hand began to twitch nervously as she tightened her grip to force the crystal level again. “These are the gentlemen I was so desirous that you meet,” Gallantine told her, gesturing before him.
She looked up from her glass and manufactured a pleasant smile as he commenced introductions to Sir Henry Halford and his young protégé, the Honorable William Manton. She dropped a careful curtsy to the gentlemen, though
The ladies collected their wraps, fans, and reticules from the entryway table, and the cadre was about to depart the house when Mrs. Polkshank called out. “Miss Elizabeth! Might I have a moment before you leave, if you please?”
Elizabeth turned her head and glanced over her shoulder at Cook, feeling very confused “Certainly.”
“Hold still just a tick, miss. There is a dark spot on your gown.” Mrs. Polkshank rushed forward. “Oh, I would not intrude on your party, but I know how important this gown is to you. Everything must be perfect.”
Elizabeth froze, not daring to move. “Are you sure there is a spot? I saw nothing.”
“I do not see anything marring the gown at all. Elizabeth looks perfect to me.” Lady Upperton lifted a quizzing glass from her reticule and peered through it. “What are you going on about, Cook?”
Mrs. Polkshank pulled a rag from the waistband of her apron and touched it to her tongue, then dabbed a tiny area on Elizabeth’s back just below her shoulder blade. “Looks like a speck of blood. Got it, though. The trick to getting a bloodstain out is never letting the blood dry.”
Elizabeth gasped and spun around to look in the mirror. The cat had scratched her back. Had she bled onto the gown? She squinted her eyes, but like Mrs. Polkshank had said, there was no indication of blood on the gown.
Elizabeth’s stomach tightened then and she thought she might become ill. For though there was no blood on the gown, there was now a saliva stain the size and shape of a guinea.
“’Ere now, just keep your wrap over your shoulders until you arrive. It’ll all be dry by then, and no one will be the wiser.” Mrs. Polkshank eased Elizabeth’s shawl around her. “Good luck, Miss Elizabeth.” She winked.“Though you won’t need it, will you? I believe in your dream. Tonight your prince will come.”
Lady Upperton turned Elizabeth around and marched her through the door and into a carriage waiting before the house on Berkeley Square.
Everything was supposed to be perfect. But suddenly it wasn’t.
Something wasn’t right.
Elizabeth could feel a sense of foreboding vibrating through her body, like a plucked too-tight violin string the moment before it breaks…and the music dies.
Chapter 5
Almack’s Assembly Rooms
F or an exclusive gathering, Elizabeth was quite astounded by the sheer magnitude of the number of guests present. Truth to tell, within thirty minutes she was utterly convinced that every citizen of even the slightest social prominence was present in Almack’s this night.
Everyone, that is, except the one person she longed to behold: her prince.
She snatched a glass of carrack punch from the passing silver salver of a footman who seemed wholly focused on finding a trail along the perimeter of the overcrowded assembly room. The shifting pathway practically assuredeventual collision with a guest, most of whom were too preoccupied with seeing and being seen to notice a dozen glasses of sloshing liquid headed directly for them.
Glancing anxiously down at her precious gown, she recalled the moment of horror in her dream—when a stream of red trickled over her bodice—and a bone-chilling sense of doom fell over her like a death shroud. Shuddering, Elizabeth turned away from the footman, not wishing to view the inevitable sartorial disaster.
“There you are, my dear.” Lord Gallantine clamped his hand around Elizabeth’s wrist, making her glass of punch tilt precariously in her gloved fingers. Her hand began to twitch nervously as she tightened her grip to force the crystal level again. “These are the gentlemen I was so desirous that you meet,” Gallantine told her, gesturing before him.
She looked up from her glass and manufactured a pleasant smile as he commenced introductions to Sir Henry Halford and his young protégé, the Honorable William Manton. She dropped a careful curtsy to the gentlemen, though
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