around after him for a month, but that hardly seemed the way to accomplish any goal.
The carriage door swung open, and as they climbed down, Amelia surreptitiously pulled at the neckline of her gown. It was a luxurious garment, like nothing she could ever have imagined owning. Bright red in color, it shimmered when she walked so she glowed. She looked rich and beautiful in it, but it exposed a significant portion of flesh, and she was suffering from a constant urge to find a shawl and cover herself.
Barbara noticed her fussing with the fabric and scolded, “Stop worrying about your bodice. Your breasts are your best attributes, Amelia. You shouldn’t hide them.”
“I feel undressed.”
“Don’t think about it. Think instead about how Lucas’s jaw will drop when he realizes it’s you.”
Amelia was curious if he’d recognize her. With her hair elaborately styled, and her gown highlighting her curves and valleys, there was very little about her that resembled the mousy, prim schoolteacher he’d met at Sidwell Manor.
“I have a surprise for you,” Barbara mentioned once they were on the stairs leading into the mansion.
“What is it?”
“I believe I’ve located your brother.”
“Oh, Barbara, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in years.”
“He should visit us tomorrow.”
“I’m so thrilled to hear it.”
Amelia was overwhelmed with gladness and—right in the middle of the majestic foyer—she hugged Barbara with all her might.
“Thank you—for everything.”
“You’re welcome. And quit thanking me. It’s getting annoying. Besides, I’m having the time of my life. I haven’t been this amused since I schemed on my son so he’d marry my daughter-in-law, Lily.”
They were being swept along with the crowd toward the ballroom. Orchestra music wafted out, and Amelia struggled to affect a jaded demeanor, to not gawk at the opulent surroundings.
It was interesting how a fancy garment could change her status. No one ordered her to fetch any champagne! People were staring at Barbara—their host’s scandalous mother—but they were also trying to figure out the identity of Barbara’s companion. Amelia’s expression was blank and bored, but she definitely noted how men’s eyes gleamed with approval.
Their admiration imbued her with a confidence she hadn’t previously possessed. This was her father’s world, the one that had been denied to her. Why shouldn’t she make a grand entrance? Why shouldn’t she be welcomed by her father’s peers?
She and Barbara were announced, and heads turned, a sea of faces gazing up at them. Many lifted their glasses in toast to Barbara. She took it all in as her due—as if she were the queen rather than a disgraced vixen. Amelia watched Barbara carefully, hoping some of her aplomb would rub off.
They’d reached the ballroom floor, and Barbara leaned in and whispered, “Don’t forget what I told you about your fan. Look mysterious. Keep your wrist flexible.”
“I will.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Barbara beamed. “Have fun, darling.”
“I plan on it.”
Amelia was escorted about, introduced, asked to dance, asked to dine, asked to share a glass of punch. She accepted every offer, particularly the dancing. At Miss Peabody’s school, she’d been taught all the steps, but had had scant opportunity to ever perform them.
She was having a perfect time, feeling like Cinderella, but hours had passed, and there was no sign of Mr. Drake.
After a brisk set of dancing, she slipped away and went out onto the rear verandah. Far down from the main party, a parlor was lit, the windows open to let in the cool evening air.
She wandered down, and to her surprise, Mr. Drake was there, seated at a harpsichord and singing a very raucous, very risqué tune. There was a small group gathered around—Nanette Nipton among them—and they were very merry, laughing, joining in on the choruses. Mrs. Nipton was very proprietary toward Mr. Drake,
The carriage door swung open, and as they climbed down, Amelia surreptitiously pulled at the neckline of her gown. It was a luxurious garment, like nothing she could ever have imagined owning. Bright red in color, it shimmered when she walked so she glowed. She looked rich and beautiful in it, but it exposed a significant portion of flesh, and she was suffering from a constant urge to find a shawl and cover herself.
Barbara noticed her fussing with the fabric and scolded, “Stop worrying about your bodice. Your breasts are your best attributes, Amelia. You shouldn’t hide them.”
“I feel undressed.”
“Don’t think about it. Think instead about how Lucas’s jaw will drop when he realizes it’s you.”
Amelia was curious if he’d recognize her. With her hair elaborately styled, and her gown highlighting her curves and valleys, there was very little about her that resembled the mousy, prim schoolteacher he’d met at Sidwell Manor.
“I have a surprise for you,” Barbara mentioned once they were on the stairs leading into the mansion.
“What is it?”
“I believe I’ve located your brother.”
“Oh, Barbara, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in years.”
“He should visit us tomorrow.”
“I’m so thrilled to hear it.”
Amelia was overwhelmed with gladness and—right in the middle of the majestic foyer—she hugged Barbara with all her might.
“Thank you—for everything.”
“You’re welcome. And quit thanking me. It’s getting annoying. Besides, I’m having the time of my life. I haven’t been this amused since I schemed on my son so he’d marry my daughter-in-law, Lily.”
They were being swept along with the crowd toward the ballroom. Orchestra music wafted out, and Amelia struggled to affect a jaded demeanor, to not gawk at the opulent surroundings.
It was interesting how a fancy garment could change her status. No one ordered her to fetch any champagne! People were staring at Barbara—their host’s scandalous mother—but they were also trying to figure out the identity of Barbara’s companion. Amelia’s expression was blank and bored, but she definitely noted how men’s eyes gleamed with approval.
Their admiration imbued her with a confidence she hadn’t previously possessed. This was her father’s world, the one that had been denied to her. Why shouldn’t she make a grand entrance? Why shouldn’t she be welcomed by her father’s peers?
She and Barbara were announced, and heads turned, a sea of faces gazing up at them. Many lifted their glasses in toast to Barbara. She took it all in as her due—as if she were the queen rather than a disgraced vixen. Amelia watched Barbara carefully, hoping some of her aplomb would rub off.
They’d reached the ballroom floor, and Barbara leaned in and whispered, “Don’t forget what I told you about your fan. Look mysterious. Keep your wrist flexible.”
“I will.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Barbara beamed. “Have fun, darling.”
“I plan on it.”
Amelia was escorted about, introduced, asked to dance, asked to dine, asked to share a glass of punch. She accepted every offer, particularly the dancing. At Miss Peabody’s school, she’d been taught all the steps, but had had scant opportunity to ever perform them.
She was having a perfect time, feeling like Cinderella, but hours had passed, and there was no sign of Mr. Drake.
After a brisk set of dancing, she slipped away and went out onto the rear verandah. Far down from the main party, a parlor was lit, the windows open to let in the cool evening air.
She wandered down, and to her surprise, Mr. Drake was there, seated at a harpsichord and singing a very raucous, very risqué tune. There was a small group gathered around—Nanette Nipton among them—and they were very merry, laughing, joining in on the choruses. Mrs. Nipton was very proprietary toward Mr. Drake,
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