She had her head in the clouds, per usual. But on a night like tonight, in this twinkling fairyland, it felt like anything was possible. She smiled at Dane. “It’s going to be a wonderful night.”
“Have I told you that you look ravishing tonight?” he asked.
Francesca had lent her yet another gown, this one made from soft white silk that caressed her limbs when she walked. She wore a pearl pendant around her throat, and her hair was dressed in a simple knot.
He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. The admiration in his eyes started a warm glow in her belly. She couldn’t help reaching out to touch the dimple in his chin. He stroked his thumb over her lower lip.
Miss Hodwell pointedly cleared her throat, and they jumped apart. “The guests are arriving.”
Sandrine was surprised when Sir Somersby and Lord Dudley were the first to arrive. “I didn’t expect to see you here so early, gentlemen. Aren’tyou usually doing rakish things this time of the evening?”
“I’m here for Miss Rowland, the famous soprano,” Somersby said. “She’s a pretty thing to dangle on my arm or sport in my curricle.”
“The only thing dangling on your arm is going to be your walking cane when her protector, the Earl of Whitworth, shatters your kneecaps.”
“My friends are here to help,” Dane explained. “We still don’t know who hired the blackmailers, and they’ll keep a watch on the guests and tell me if they spy anything out of the ordinary.”
A shiver traveled the length of Sandrine’s spine. “I hope nothing happens to spoil the evening.”
The first guests began to arrive, and Sandrine went to her post by the stage to make sure Miss Rowland wanted for nothing.
The room soon filled with well-dressed patrons eager to see and be seen. At least they were opening their purses. Sandrine watched as Cleveland recorded donation after donation.
“Sandrine, you’re a vision,” Francesca said, coming to join her near the stage.
“Thank you for lending me your ball gown.”
“I did want you to wear the gold brocade.”
“I would have felt too ostentatious. This simple white gown suits me.”
“I agree, now that I see you in the room. These riotous decorations make you appear to be a glowing oasis of simplicity and taste.”
“Your hair is amazing this evening. Is that a new wig?” Francesca loved to wear wigs of her own creation in pastel shades of pink and lavender,like the ones she’d made for them to wear to the Silver Palace. This one was pale pink and strewn with yellow silk butterflies.
“Do you like it?” she asked, patting the elaborate curls at her temple.
“It’s simply stunning. And so are you, my dear friend.” Sandrine hugged her. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me while I’ve been here.”
“You’re speaking as if you’re leaving on schedule. What are you going to do about that engagement Lord Dane announced?”
“I’m not sure yet. Francesca, I think he loves me.”
“Of course he loves you. Everyone does.”
“I mean I think that I could very well win his heart. The problem is that I’ve so thoroughly lost my heart to him that I don’t know whether it’s only my foolish optimism that tells me he feels the same.”
“What happened to spurning him after he agrees to give you the manor house?” Roslyn asked, joining them. “What happened to making him grovel?”
“Sandrine’s gone and fallen in love with him,” Francesca said.
“Love’s for the birds,” Roslyn said. “I’ll never catch that particular disease.”
Marta sashayed over in a green satin gown that hugged every inch of her curves. “Ladies, what are we discussing?”
“Love and other diseases of the heart. I want a cheroot. Think I’ll visit the gardens,” Roslyn said, leaving abruptly.
“What’s wrong with her?” Sandrine asked. “Oh, I remember my mother said something about a vicious rumor about Roslyn. Is it that? I forgot about it in the flurry of preparing for the ball.”