The Maiden At Midnight (8 page)

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Authors: Kate Harper

Tags: #romance, #love, #regency, #masquerade

BOOK: The Maiden At Midnight
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Isabella had raised an eyebrow. She could
not bring herself to particularly like her aunt, no matter how much
assistance she had rendered. Aunt Geraldine seemed to delight in
disaster and insisted on introducing the Hathaway sisters as ‘my
poor, tragic darlings’, which irritated the three girls intensely.
‘What do you mean, Auntie?’

‘I believe a Young Man was involved.’ Her
aunt’s voice had been both scandalized and avid at the same
time.

‘Nothing happened,’ Isabella had told her
firmly. ‘It was all just an unfortunate prank that went horribly
wrong. I am just happy to be home again.’ And she had given her
aunt a dazzling smile before escaping out the door.

It wasn’t until she returned to her room for
a rest later in the afternoon – for truly, her night had been
unpleasantly busy – that an idea occurred to her. Lying on top of
the bed, she was just hovering on the edge of sleep when she
suddenly realized that her abduction might have a positive
consequence. The thought was so intriguing that her eyes sprang
open and she sat up as she considered the thought that had popped
into her head. It was daring, it was unconventional and it might
just help her to get what she had come to London to obtain.

A wealthy husband who she could comfortably
live with.

‘I wonder if it would help,’ she murmured,
lying down again slowly.

Thinking about it further, she concluded
that it could not hurt.

Tomorrow afternoon, she would be sure to pay
a call on Miss Alora Piedmont.

 

Fortunately, the very next day offered the
perfect opportunity to get to know Miss Piedmont better when
Isabella and Audrey went walking in Kensington Gardens. Their
mother was enthusiastic about fresh air and realized that her two
eldest daughters were attractively presented in such bucolic
surroundings. As the capricious April weather had decided to turn
on a delightfully sunny day, both girls were to be found walking
the flowering paths, attractively attired in new walking gowns of
Indian muslin; pale blue for Audrey, soft mauve for Isabella with
spencers in a alternate color, mauve for Audrey, blue for Isabella,
so that the pair contrasted, and yet matched, in the most charming
manner. Stylish hats of chip straw with curving brims to frame
their faces were also paraded for Mama had a very good eye for
fashion and an even better eye for what would look good on her
girls. With a maid walking several steps behind, they strolled arm
in arm, observing and being observed. It was a known fact that the
Hathaway girls were much admired, particularly the eldest, for
their fair good looks were striking and attracted a deal of
attention.

There were a great many people about, as was
to be expected on such a fine day. The sisters chatted together
inconsequentially, Isabella’s mind engaged with the idea that had
come to her the previous afternoon when, providentially, the female
who had been behind her musings appeared. Isabella did not know it
was Miss Piedmont, for she was not familiar with her but Audrey
pointed her out in an undertone.

‘Oh look. There’s that girl who people say
is a great heiress, Bell. Apparently, she has twenty thousand a
year.’

‘Twenty thousand a year?
How
very
fortunate
for her.’ Isabella murmured, looking up quickly to find a young
lady, accompanied by a much older female, strolling towards them.
She was as fair as Isabella herself. ‘Who is she?’

‘I believe she is called Alora
Piedmont.’

Well of all the luck! Not that it should
have been so surprising; half of London Society was out on parading
for it had been a nasty few weeks of weather. But even so, she
could not have planned it better.

‘How fortunate for she is exactly the person
I wished to speak to.’

‘Do you know her?’

‘We have not met, no.’

‘Then why do you wish to talk to her?’

Isabella gave her sister a mischievous look.
‘Because I believe that she will be instrumental in helping us
secure our future. Now then… let us see how this goes.’

The task ahead seemed simple but it was
difficult to know how it would progress. She wanted to befriend the
girl, something that could prove tricky if Miss Piedmont was one of
those females who did not care for other females. Isabella had met
more than her fair share of them since arriving in London although,
to be fair, she had met a great many perfectly friendly girls as
well. Still, if Alora Piedmont did not fit into the friendly
category, Isabella thought there may be other ways to go about the
plan she had in mind.

When they were no more than five feet from
each other, Isabella paused and regarded the girl with a smile.
Miss Piedmont looked back, surprised by the unexpected scrutiny but
smiling back without reservation.

‘Why I do believe you must be Miss
Piedmont!’

The girl nodded cautious agreement while the
substantial woman beside her – the same woman who had mistaken her
for Alora at the masquerade, Isabella was almost sure – looked on,
expression neutral. A sensible precaution; in London society it did
not do to snub people before you knew where they stood in the
scheme of things.

‘Why, yes. I am Alora Piedmont.’ There was
no standoffishness in the tone and the smile remained in place,
which Isabella took as a promising sign.

‘But we look nothing alike. I declare, you
are far prettier than me.’

Miss Piedmont turned a little pink. ‘I do
not think I understand -’

Isabella gave a little
trill of laughter. ‘Oh, I
am
sorry. What a perfect goose you must think me. I
am Isabella Hathaway and this is my sister Audrey. Please, accept
my apology but you know, just yesterday somebody told me that we
looked very similar. Quite ridiculous of course but I have to say,
I was curious.’

‘Oh,’ the incomprehension cleared away, ‘I
understand completely. Although you are quite wrong; you are by far
the prettier of the two of us. Don’t you think so, Aunt Elise?’

Appealed to in such a forthright manner,
Alora’s aunt remained cautious.

‘Well of course, you are both quite
delightful my dear. And I will allow, there are definite
similarities between the two of you,’ she said, covering her
options nicely. Clearly, the woman was a seasoned participant of
the social niceties.

Miss Piedmont gave a small laugh and
regarded both sisters happily. She seemed to find nothing unusual
about such an odd introduction for which Isabella was truly
thankful. Heaven only knew what her Mama would think of such brazen
behavior but fortunately, Mama was not present.

Miss Piedmont invited the sisters to walk
with her and they fell into step together, chatting about this and
that, the usual town gossip. Who was going where and what they were
wearing when they arrived. It did not take Isabella long to
discover that she rather liked Miss Piedmont, who seemed
refreshingly simple in her outlook. It quickly became apparent that
she had a sunny disposition and an inclination to think the best of
everybody. While Isabella might not agree with her in principle, it
did mean that she genuinely appreciated her sweetness, which was
just as well as a great deal hinged on them becoming friends.
Fortunately Alora Piedmont appeared to have taken a similar shine
to her and she suggested that the Hathaway sisters might care to
call on her at some time in the near future, or that she might call
on them.

‘For it would be so pleasant to spend some
time together,’ she said earnestly. ‘I do feel we could be the
greatest of friends.’

It was an echo of Isabella’s own sentiments,
although they did not spring from the purest of motives.

Isabella suggested that perhaps she might
call the next afternoon. Fortunately Alora’s aunt appeared to be
reassured that the two sisters were staying with Lady Tremourne, a
most respectable lady that she knew quite well and encouraged the
visit. ‘For my dearest Alora enjoys young company, bless her. Far
more enjoyable that spending every spare minute with her stuffy
aunt.’

Privately, Isabella agreed wholeheartedly
for Elise Fortnum appeared to have no discernible sense of humor.
Her niece denied it immediately, which appeared to be expected of
her and everybody said goodbye, well pleased with the meeting.
Isabella left the park in high spirits although Audrey appeared
quite bewildered by the entire exchange.

‘Someone said that you looked like her?’ she
said, as soon as they were alone once more. ‘Who on earth said
that?’

‘Nobody. I made it up although I do think
there is a passing resemblance, don’t you?’

‘I suppose. But why did you make it up?’

‘Well I had to talk to her somehow. And
somebody actually mistook me for her at the masquerade ball the
other night so it seemed a likely possibility.’

‘But why do you want to get to know her?’
Audrey demanded.

‘Don’t you like her?’

‘I do. Of course I do. She
just seems like an odd choice of friend for
you
.’

Isabella wrinkled her nose. ‘Am I so fussy,
then, in my choice of friends?’

‘No! It’s just… well, you do not go out of
your way to secure them, now do you?’

Her sister was perfectly right, of course.
Even before the scandal that rocked her family, Isabella had not
been the most social of girls, preferring home and hearth to
gadding about. She knew all that would change when she married and
became Lady Proctor for Willett had told her that they must
entertain. He was planning on a career in politics and his wife
would be expected to play hostess frequently. It was the one bright
light she had been able to find after they had parted; she would
not have to deal with a group of stuffy lords and their equally
stuffy ladies, something she had secretly dreaded when she had
considered her future with Willett. She was more inclined to be
found in a chair with a book in her hand. Indeed, such was her love
of books that Aunt Geraldine had loudly fretted that her niece
might be a bluestocking, a lamentable state of affairs – and a
tragic waste – for a girl as lovely as she.

‘I think that Alora Piedmont is delightful,’
Isabella said cheerfully. ‘She has a truly unaffected nature,
wouldn’t you say?’

‘Her aunt was alarming.’

‘She was indeed. But, that aside, I am sure
that Alora and I are going to be very good friends.’

Which earned her another puzzled look from
Audrey, but she did not elaborate. Her plan was outrageous, even
she knew that. So much so that it was best she keep it to herself.
What Audrey did not know, could not be relayed to their mother at a
later date.

They were heading out of the gardens on
their way back home when they had one more encounter of interest.
This one was not nearly so welcome as the last but it would prove
useful, nonetheless, for encountering Mr. Harry Carstairs meant
that Isabella could pass on the message that was the next step in
her Grand Plan.

Mr. Carstairs hesitated at the sight of her,
clearly taken aback to find her out and about and uncertain as to
the correct protocol involved in greeting a young lady he had only
met under the most lamentable circumstances. Isabella’s steps
faltered but she immediately decided that this encounter was a good
thing and walked forward with determination.

‘Mr. Carstairs.’ She dropped him a small
curtsey.

‘Miss Hathaway.’ He bowed in return, all
punctiliousness, doffing his beaver as he did so. He looked
particularly exceptional today in a coat of blue superfine, biscuit
colored breeches and tan hessians buffed to a high gloss. His
neckcloth was tied a la Oriental, a wonderful concoction of folds
and he looked quite the thing. ‘I see you are taking the air.’

‘Indeed I am, sir. May I introduce my
sister, Miss Audrey Hathaway?’

‘How do you do?’ From the flush in her
cheeks, clearly Audrey was even more taken aback by this unexpected
meeting. She had no idea who the gentleman was and even less as to
why her sister should have stopped to greet him.

‘Very well, thank you.’

There was a pause, Isabella eyeing Mr.
Carstairs with some speculation. There was no point in beating
about the bush, however. She had thought that she would need to
obtain the Earl of Stornley’s address and then send a note around
but this was even better. ‘May I speak with you for a moment,
sir?’

‘We are speaking.’

She narrowed her dark blue eyes. ‘Obviously.
But I particularly wanted to ask you something.’

Mr. Carstairs raised an eyebrow. ‘Of
course.’

‘I was wondering if you would do me a
service? It is a small thing and should take up very little of your
time.’

‘My favorite kind of service.’ He said
lightly but he looked cautious. As well he might. ‘If it is in my
power to do so, then naturally I would be delighted.’

‘I wonder if you can ask your friend to pay
a call?’

‘My… friend?’

‘Indeed. Our mutual acquaintance. I would be
most grateful.’

They stared at each other
for a long moment. ‘You would like… you would like our
friend
to pay a call
on
you
?’

‘If you please.’

For some reason the request seemed to
flummox him. There was another small pause. ‘Of course. I would be
delighted to relay your message.’ He did not sound delighted but
then, she had hardly expected him to. What she was asking was not
at all the thing and they both knew it. Constrained by the presence
of Audrey, however, he could not demand to know what she was
about.

‘Tomorrow afternoon at around three-thirty
would be most convenient.’

‘How very specific of you. May I escort you
upon your walk?’

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