Lady Flora's Fantasy

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Authors: Shirley Kennedy
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need tell you that." From behind her raised fan, Lady Boles continued, "Her mother was a mistress to the king before she married The Duke de Clairmont. After, too. And then—" she lowered her voice to a hissing whisper "—she was guillotined in 1793. The Revolution, you know."
    Flora refrained from an annoyed, of course I know , as Lady Boles warmed to her task. "Can you imagine? Such a dreadful thing. So was her husband, the Duke. Both of them, off with their heads."
    "That is most unfortunate," Flora remarked, ignoring the obvious relish in Lady Boles's voice. "Then how...?"
    "Their daughter was smuggled into England as a small child. The poor thing is penniless, of course, although I hear there's a fortune waiting for her—left by her father, the Duke—if she can ever get her hands on it."
    "She certainly doesn't look penniless," Flora observed as the countess conspicuously waved her oversized white plumed fan and gayly tossed her head, causing gold tassels to dance as they dangled from her gold and white crepe turban. Clusters of diamonds dripped from her ears and circled her neck. Her sheer yellow gown was a masterpiece of undress, with an exceedingly wide V neckline which displayed a vast area between her ample, well-rounded breasts and a good part of each breast itself.
    "She may be penniless, but she does have certain resources, which she puts to good use," Lady Boles snidely remarked.
    Amy giggled. "The countess had best not lean over too far, or her resources will fall out of her gown."
    "I admire her audacity." Flora suppressed a smile and glanced down at her own bodice, cut low, but modest compared to that of the countess. "If she's looking for a rich husband, I'm sure she'll do well."
    Flora spent the rest of the evening in a daze, thrilled beyond belief over Lord Dashwood’s attentions, yet totally confused. Once, she saw him approaching the countess. She felt a stab of jealousy but reminded herself the dandies had been swarming around the Countess de Clairmont all evening. Some were even richer than Lord Dashwood would be some day, so it stood to reason if the countess was fortune-hunting, Dashwood would not be at the top of her list. So it was nothing to be concerned about, Flora told herself. Still, she wondered what they were talking about.
         * * * *                                                                                                                                                                                                        
    Countess Marie-Elizabeth de Clairmont's eyes lit upon Lord Dashwood, who had just approached and begged her current companion for an introduction. The plumed fan waved even faster as she tilted her head to one side, fluttered her long eyelashes, and gave him a dazzling smile. " Mon Dieux ! I have just met zee most handsome man in London."
    Dashwood bowed in his usual gallant fashion and kissed the countess's hand. "I am honored that one of the most beautiful women in London has chosen to flatter me."
    "Only 'one of?'" The countess pouted. "Ah well, I am but a poor refugee and should be grateful for the smallest of favors, n'est pas? "
    " Au contraire , mam'selle . A woman like you could never be a 'poor refugee.'" Richard gave her a dazzling smile of his own. "You are looking positively radiant tonight. Shall we dance?"
    Flora felt a tug of despair when she saw the countess melt into Dashwood's arms. They danced the next dance, too, and the next.
    He never came back.
     
    After the ball, when they were home again, and she was chatting with Amy about the events of the evening, Flora said with a frown, "How could he call me his 'powerful enchantress' then simply walk away and not dance with me again?"
    "It's a puzzlement," Amy agreed. "But I am inclined to

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