Page 121 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

She pressed her hands to her face. Lydia watched, frowning and thoughtful. Lady Phoebe was so brittle that one wrong word would shatter her. Lydia would have to speak carefully.

‘I think you are a fool, to waste such an opportunity as this,’ she said. Carefulness had never been her strong suit.

Lady Phoebe turned her head very slowly to regard her. ‘Excuse me?’

‘If you are concerned about distraction,’ Lydia said, ‘then what is tonight if not the grandest, most glittering distraction you could ever have asked for?’

Lady Phoebe stared at her.

‘You mean … leave tonight?’ she said.

Lydia nodded.

‘How?’ Lady Phoebe’s voice was fragile with doubt and hope.

‘Well, I – I think I have a plan.’

27

Hawkscroft shone that evening, each room radiating with chandelier light, each fireplace rolling with snapping flames, each glass glittering with the finest champagne. At nine o’clock, as the first carriages began swinging in through the gates, all the members of the house party descended the stairs, each dressed in masks and dominoes which would – all being well – utterly mask their identity.

‘How thrilling,’ Lady Morton said, looking round at them all. ‘Masked in such a way, one feels anything could happen.’

‘Indeed,’ Hesse said, with a meaningful raise of his brows.

‘The mask permits freedom in every culture,’ Prett announced portentously. ‘It is the same all around the world, you know, for in—’

‘It is a domino,’ Lady Hesse said waspishly, ‘not a mantle of invisibility. All the usual rules do still apply.’

‘I certainly plan on disappearing,’ Lady Morton said. ‘Without Brutus at my heels, you will have no hope of identifying me, Lady Hesse.’

‘Where is Brutus?’ Miss Hesse asked anxiously.

‘Safe and sound in my rooms,’ Lady Morton assured her.

‘A good thing, perhaps,’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘Lady Laleham will bring her pug no doubt – can’t go anywhere without it – and we do not wish for a territory scuffle.’

‘Oh, what fun,’ Brandon said, with apparent genuine enthusiasm. ‘Sweet things.’

Miss Hesse’s head turned in his direction.

‘Now, which dance shall we begin with, my lady?’ Brandon went on.

‘Do you like pugs, Mr Brandon?’ Lydia interrupted, for she could not live with herself if she allowed him to pass by such an opportunity.

‘Oh, well,’ Brandon said, ‘ordinarily I prefer larger hounds, you know, but pugs … My mother has one. Looks like a bruiser but is the dearest thing.’ He smiled bashfully. ‘But then, I’m certain I would have a hundred dogs were it not dreadfully eccentric.’

Miss Hesse’s breath caught. Her eyes, behind her mask, were very round and Lydia had to fight the urge to clap her hands. At the eleventh hour! Mr Brandon did not even know what he had done. She looked around for the only person who would be as pleased as she by what had occurred – but he was not there.

‘Would you save me your first waltz, sir?’ Miss Hesse said, in a sudden breach of convention – ladies did not customarily request dances.

‘Why – yes, of course,’ Brandon stammered, cheeks pinked.

‘My dear, you forget – Lord Ashford requested the first waltz,’ Lady Hesse said quellingly.

‘He is not here, however,’ Miss Hesse said, more firmly than Lydia had ever heard her speak before.

Ashford had not been seen since that afternoon. Lydia had searched the grounds in case he was lurking sulkily in some alcove, but to no avail. She could only thank goodness that there were others she might turn to, for with Ashford and Pip absent she and Lady Phoebe would otherwise be quite alone. As soon as she had explained the day’s revelations, Jane and Elspeth had swiftly offered their assistance for the evening’s tasks. Their support was bolstering indeed, but Lydia was still hopeful that she might yet persuade Ashford to join their cause, for surely, he would reappear at dinner?