She was worrying herself into a fit, and they hadn’t even arrived.
She peered out the window and watched the trees blur past until they reached a familiar sprawling estate. It went on as far as she could see, surrounded by carefully tended grass. Topiary lions guarded the entrance, far more imposing at night than they’d been when she’d seen them last during a tour of the grounds. Her mother had preened about securing that particular visit for months.
The carriage stopped, and a footman opened the door.
“Follow my lead,” Cordon whispered before exiting. She plastered herself to her seat. The moment she followed, shewould become someone else. Was she really capable of this? Was it worth the fortune he was paying her?
“Miss?” the footman asked.
She was already embarrassing herself. She peeled herself away from the interior of the carriage and allowed the footman to take her hand—damp and sweaty beneath her black kidskin glove. When she was outside, she gulped. The grand estate loomed over her. Someone would notice she wasn’t one of them. They would hear it in her voice or see it in the awkward way she walked.
Cordon hooked her arm through hers and drew her forward. Instead of approaching the enormous building, they followed a slowly moving line of guests. Torches on long sticks lined the winding pathway.
She focused on her steps. She hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to move in her skirt. The ruffled fringe of her gown brushed the damp grass. She had to place each step carefully to avoid falling.
Perhaps if she added a hook to lift her skirts when one was walking… All the other guests appeared to be struggling with the same problem. One lady, far ahead of them, stumbled and would have fallen were it not for the intervention of the man at her side.
“I never considered that my dresses might cause their wearers to trip,” Kitty whispered.
“Must you always think of your business?” Codon asked.
She exhaled through her nose. “I cannot help it. Fabrics, dresses, that is my world. Not…” She gestured to the hedge maze that was appearing at the end of their path. “All of this.”
He sniffed. “Then be someone else tonight. Not Miss Carter, but Felicity Trellwood, my guest.”
She scraped her teeth along her unusually fuzzy tongue. “I am a terrible actor.”
Whatever he was going to say next was lost as they arrived at the party. Dozens of people dressed in glittering outfits gathered in groups, holding flutes of amber liquid. A footman holding a tray with several more glasses appeared. Cordon stopped and daintily accepted two. Kitty grabbed hers and consumed the whole thing in a single gulp. Anything to help her feel less like an intruder. She had never felt so anxious in her life.
Perhaps focusing on work would help.
She wasn’t surrounded by terrifying strangers, but potential customers. She needed to understand their desires, figure out not just what they wanted, but what theycraved. Then she could succeed where so many other dressmakers, including the master to whom she had apprenticed, had failed.
Her tense shoulders relaxed. Yes, this was better. She was not a guest. She was a spy gathering information crucial to the future of her business.
“Come, let’s see whom we can recognize.” Cordon moved forward, pulling Kitty along with him.
He walked with the confidence of someone who had nothing to fear. She envied that ease. She’d attended many events at her mother’s urging, but none of them had been enjoyable. It had been too important to make a good impression, to make her mother proud.
Being herself had never been an option.
“This way,” Cordon said.
He was leading them toward the open mouth of the hedge maze.
“Why in there?” she asked. “We won’t be able to see anyone.” That would make it difficult to analyze the other guests’ costumes.
He laughed again. “My dear, anyone who matters will not be out here.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
The distant sound of a moan reached her.
Her cheeks warmed, despite the chill.
“Privacy, my dear,” he said. “A most precious commodity if we are to observe a couple engaging in amorous congress inside a hedge maze.”
So, it wasthatkind of party. The kind her customers sometimes whispered about while perusing her shop, not realizing or caring that she might overhear. She winced. Before the night was up, she feared she would embarrass herself several more times.
