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‘It will take us hours to get ready. Baths, our hair, the henna for our hands and feet, dressing, choosing jewellery. We will have dinner up here and the men can wait in suspense to see us.’
And we, them, Phyllida thought. She had some idea of how Ashe would look from the subdued Indian costume he had worn at the warehouse. What he might wear for a masquerade, she could not imagine.
The next day was occupied with finalising the list of items for the specialist sale. Phyllida visited the auctioneer disguised with severe clothing and French accent. Ashe and his father spent most of the day closeted in the study, working on estate papers, and only reappeared for dinner.
Phyllida found herself coming to like the Herriards more and more. They were unconventional, affectionate to each other, intelligent and their outsiders’ view of the world she was so used to was constantly entertaining. Sara and her mother treated her as though she was already one of the family and it was all too easy to slip into the comfort of having a sister and a mother after years of fighting to stay afloat with no close female support.
The morning of the masquerade Lady Eldonstone had announced that after luncheon her rooms were to be considered out of bounds to all males.
Phyllida had no idea what to expect, but after half an hour she was convinced that she had strayed into the world of the Arabian Nights. The dressing room was filled with fragrant steam as three baths were prepared, separated by filmy curtains. They wallowed and soaped and scrubbed, then emerged wrapped in towels to have their hair brushed and braided. Once their skin was completely dry, Sara and her mother set to work painting elaborate patterns on palms and feet.
‘Will it wash off?’ Phyllida surrendered her palm, trying not to flinch as the pen tickled.
‘Eventually. It just fades away. This isn’t very strong henna.’
Then there was the lengthy process of going through jewellery boxes to select three sets of ornaments. Phyllida tried her best not to gawp at the gold and silver and gems, but she could not resist exclaiming over the set of Burmese sapphires that Lady Eldonstone selected for herself.
‘They are very fine, are they not? A bride gift from my uncle, the rajah. Sara, the yellow diamonds for you and for Phyllida, the emeralds, of course.’
‘But… Lady Eldonstone, they are far too valuable to lend to me. If I may borrow some bangles and earrings, that would be perfectly adequate, I am sure.’
‘You are one of the family, Phyllida, and you will wear the Herriard gems.’ Lady Eldonstone quelled her protest with a raised hand. ‘It may not be known yet, but you will marry Ashe. Not to dress you accordingly would be to insult you both. Please, humour me in this.’
There was nothing to do but surrender. They ate a light dinner, then, finally, dressed. Phyllida was given sandals to wear, heavy earrings with emerald drops were fixed in her ears, bangles slid up her arms and clasped around her ankles and a gold chain with a single emerald hung around her neck to dip between her breasts. Then the veil was pinned in place over her hair.
‘Now you may look,’ Sara said, turning her so all three women were reflected in the long pier glass.
‘That is not me.’ It could not be her, that exotic, bejewelled silken creature with the wide eyes and the curving form.
‘Yes, it is,’ Sara assured her. ‘We would make any maharaja proud, would we not, Mata?’
‘We would indeed. Now, if this was the women’s quarters of the palace we would go and spy on the men through pierced marble screens, move our skirts so our perfume would waft down to tease them, but we must do our best with the staircase.’ She handed masks to both young women and slipped on her own. ‘Everyone will know who Sara and I are, but you, Phyllida, will be a mystery. Ashe will be so jealous of the admiration you will provoke.’
Phyllida had no doubt Ashe would prove to be exceedingly possessive, but she doubted that his feelings were engaged enough for jealousy, which was a good thing. If he channelled as much energy into anger as he did into passion, he would not be a good man to cross.
‘Will they be in the hall?’ she asked, wondering how the staircase could give them a secret view of the men.
‘Of course,’ Lady Eldonstone said with a certain smugness. ‘Naturally, we are late.’
They walked to the landing, their sandals making only the softest sound on the carpeted floor. Phyllida found the wide skirts and tight trousers strange and yet liberating to move in. When they reached the banisters Lady Eldonstone put her finger to her lips and leaned over, Sara and Phyllida on either side.
Beneath them, pacing slowly on the marble floor, were the two men. Ashe, his hair loose on his collar, was wearing a golden-brown coat, with tight trousers beneath of bitter orange and a sash of the same colour. As he moved the long line of buttons down the front of the coat glittered gold. Beside him his father wore dark green with black trousers and sash, the spark of green fire from his coat buttons surely that of emeralds.
The marchioness plucked a flower from the vase that stood in an alcove at the stair head and dropped it over the rail. It spun down and landed on the floor between the two men. As one they looked up and smiled and then, in unison, put their hands together as if in prayer and bowed.
‘Like this.’ Sara showed Phyllida as the ladies turned to go down the stairs. ‘We do not curtsy or shake hands. The depth of the bow signifies respect for rank or age.’
It seemed a long way down to the hall and the waiting men. Phyllida hung back to let her companions go first and the marquess came to the foot of the stairs, his hands held out to them.
‘How do you manage to look more beautiful every day?’ he asked his wife as he bent to kiss her cheek. The emotion just beneath the surface caught at Phyllida. This truly was a love match. ‘It is no wonder we have such a lovely daughter.’ He smiled at Sara and Phyllida saw he had an emerald stud in his earlobe. ‘Miss Hurst. You look—’
‘Enchanting,’ Ashe finished for him. ‘Magical.’ Phyllida put her hands carefully together and bowed her head and he did the same, the skin around his eyes creasing as he smiled at her. He had a diamond in his ear and looked, she decided on a wave of longing, indecently glamorous.
‘Will we have an armed guard?’ she asked, needing to cut the tension that flowed between them. ‘We are all wearing the most beautiful gems and jewellery. I imagine we are a footpad’s dream come true.’
‘We are all armed,’ Ashe said.
Of course, he seemed to be able to conceal knives anywhere about his person and his father no doubt did the same. But ‘All of you?’
