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“You’re out for blood tonight, aren’t you?” asked Cat, her eyes narrowed in a calculating expression that would have looked more appropriate on a woman of fifty.
“I have decided you are correct. The time has come for me to put aside the past and pursue the future.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Lord Manchester’s visit today, would it?”
Harriett’s cheeks were turning pink. “Yes, in fact. It does. He has decided to take an active interest in the Hospital and manage it himself. And well he should. It was never meant to be my responsibility.”
“I see. Yesterday you were determined to be rid of him. He must have been truly awful to have driven you away so quickly.”
“He has not driven me away,” Harriett lied. “I am merely preparing to step aside so the proper authority may be established—as was always intended. Now that he has taken his rightful position, the burden of managing the place is no longer mine to bear alone, and for that I’m glad. I’ll be better able to focus on securing a husband.”
“Mm,” said Cat, clearly not buying the bill of goods she was being sold. “Well, if it is conquest you seek tonight, I believe you shall succeed. You look ravish-worthy.”
Determined to take the world by storm, Harriett had decided not to save the two new gowns for the latter half of the Season, but to wear them now in the hope of attracting greater interest. The décolletage of this one was deeper than she’d anticipated, but quite flattering. The color was fantastic, too. The brocade was a rich teal with a gold floral pattern. Her hazel eyes picked up the color, making them appear greenish-blue, which was quite a nice change.
She straightened the froth of lace spilling from the elbow-length sleeve of one arm and turned to the side to admire her profile. Lord, but the way the stomacher pushed up her bosom! That region looked far more impressive than she ever remembered. She credited the seamstress and made a mental note to have all of her future gowns sewn in such a manner.
“Are you quite satisfied?”
Harriett remembered suddenly that she was not alone and laughed. “Indeed. I do believe this is the finest gown I’ve ever had the pleasure of wearing. Certainly the least modest.”
“Well, you’ll definitely turn heads,” said Cat. “Come, let us go before Papa begins bellowing.”
Snatching up her matching silk cloak and a gold and teal feathered mask, Harriett followed her sister. Before she got two steps, however, Cat whirled and grabbed her hand. Harriett squawked in protest as William’s mourning ring was stripped from her finger. “No! Cat, give it back! I demand you return that to me this instant!”
Cat held it away and shook her head. “No, Harriett. You cannot wear it. Not anymore.”
“Now.” Putting out her hand, Harriett leveled her sternest gaze at her.
“You know I’m right.”
It took several moments for her to acknowledge it, but at last Harriett conceded. “Very well. I’ve a long silver chain in my jewel box. I can put it on that and tuck it into my bodice.”
“Absolutely not,” said Cat. “You have set out to catch a husband, Harriett. You don’t need any reminders of the past lingering about you to put off another man’s interest. It’s bad enough you’ll be comparing every male you meet to him, but the least you can do is prevent them from realizing it.”
“I cannot leave it here,” Harriett insisted, lowering her voice. “It’ll disappear the instant we leave.”
“Go and get your chain, then. I will keep it for you and return it when we get home. I promise I won’t let anything happen to it.”
Reluctantly, Harriett went and retrieved the chain. She watched with deep misgiving as her sister slid it through William’s ring and then put it around her own neck.
“Ready?” asked Cat, tucking the ring deep into her cleavage.
Swallowing her disquiet, Harriett nodded. The journey to the Penworths’ London estate was brief, but the wait in the queue was interminable. By the time they approached the front walk, it seemed like an hour had passed since they’d rounded the turn onto the drive.
“Put on your mask, ninny!” hissed Cat as they came to a final stop.
“Oh!” With shaking fingers, Harriett tied the ribbons. Her anticipation heightened as the door opened and she disembarked. From this moment on, she was unknown to all who looked upon her. A mystery. She could be anyone tonight. Anyone at all. Anyone but William’s unwed “widow.”
The Penworths had spared no expense on tonight’s festivities. Jugglers and fire-eaters lined the walkway into the estate, and everywhere she looked there were male servants dressed in Turkish pantaloons, embroidered vests, and feathered turbans. The gaiety of such surroundings was infectious, and she found herself grinning broadly at the spectacle.
“Watch yourself, Harriett,” murmured Cat. “Lord Russell is just ahead.”
Harriett looked in the direction of her sister’s nod and saw she was correct. There was no mistaking that nuisance of a man; even with a mask his flaming hair gave him away at once. She cringed for a moment, but then remembered her own disguise. He would never suspect it was her in this dress. She looked back and saw that Papa had stopped to converse with a friend. Urging her sister on, she picked up the pace. Moments later they were past Russell and through the front doors.
She reached over and surreptitiously pinched Cat, who had begun giggling. It didn’t stop her. Then Harriett, too, began to giggle. So the laughing pair entered at their ease, blending in with another group of merry party-goers.
If she’d thought the entrance display impressive, it was nothing compared to what lay within. Exotic potted trees, palms, and flowering shrubs lined the foyer, interspersed with caged songbirds. Music drifted into the space, spicy music from faraway lands. Everywh
