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“I…am not sure,” she finally responded, questioning her own memories.
“But if there is such a myth, I should like to discover it.”
“Fabulous!” Annie crowed, clapping her hands with excitement. “We might even hunt for this elusive fairytale together. I am so pleased to have met you, Lady Brigid.”
“And I, you,” Brigid returned with a shy smile.
She wished she didn’t have to say goodbye to her new friends so soon, but her lady’s maid was giving her the side eye. Apparently, she’d already stayed out longer than she planned.
Lady Rathbourne had explicitly instructed when she left Rathbourne Place after luncheon that Brigid should return well before dusk, for they needed all of the intervening hours to prepare for Lady Watham’s Ball this evening. It was supposed to be the first real crush of the Season. And somehow, Great Aunt Tabitha had procured invitations for the whole family.
Which gave Brigid an idea spur of the moment.
“Perhaps I will see you both again at Lady Watham’s Ball tonight,” she said.
“The papers say that even royalty will be there. Both indigenous and foreign. Who knows, maybe even a Pale Prince might attend.”
This she said with a teasing lilt, but even so, her heart accelerated like a stamping herd of elephants.
What waswrongwith her?
“Oh, ha ha,” Annie chuckled awkwardly. “That sounds like a grand time. But as much as we would love to attend, the truth is…”
“Yes?” Brigid prompted when she trailed off.
“The truth is, we just arrived in London from years spent in the Orient, and we lost all of our belongings in the harrowing journey across stormy seas.”
“Eh?” her cousin muttered, throwing her a quick, panicked look.
Annie elbowed her companion subtly, but Brigid still saw.
Such a strange, beautiful pair, she thought. Like a blindingly brilliant sun and vibrant, dancing flames. That was the impression they gave her.
“Indeed?” she asked with one brow raised slightly aloft.
What a bunch of hogwash.
But it was entertaining enough for Brigid to keep listening. She wondered what other tall tales Lady Annie might spin.
“You do recall, dear cousin,” Annie said between clenched teeth, sliding a meaningful look toward Lord Larkin.
He frowned but caught on quickly.
“Indeed,” he replied, clearing his throat.
“We lost all of our luggage and servants too, though we didn’t bring many. The bulk of our belongings and entourage is scheduled to arrive two weeks hence. We were supposed to stay at the…you know, the…”
“Yes?” Brigid needled.
“The fancy lodging house in Piccadilly,” he finally supplied.
“Which one exactly?” Brigid insisted.
She hated being lied to, but this was rather fun.
“The one where foreign royalty stays,” Annie inserted, her hand twirling in the air as if she was literally in the process of weaving a tapestry of lies.
“We had a letter of confirmation in our possession, but we lost it.”
