The Danbury Scandals by Mary Nichols Read Free Book Online Page A

speculating on the number of proposals she
was likely to receive and looking daily for the longed-for invitations to Lady
Markham’s ball which arrived one morning when they were sitting over a late
breakfast.
    ‘A masked
ball!’ Caroline said, ripping hers open. ‘And only a week away.’ She turned to
Maryanne, eyes alight with excitement. ‘What shall I wear? Something striking,
of course.’ She got up and paced the room, waving the invitation in front of
her face like a fan, while Maryanne watched from her seat. ‘I think I shall go
as Queen Elizabeth.’ She turned to her cousin and surveyed her critically.
‘What about you?’
    ‘I will find
something,’ Maryanne said, but when she refused to divulge what she had decided
on Caroline spent some time persuading her that if she had nothing suitable to
wear it would be useless for her to go.
    Mark would not
hear of that. ‘I shall be quite cast down if you don’t come,’ he told Maryanne.
‘I shall expect at least three dances, so that everyone will see what a
handsome couple we make.’ He sat down beside her on the chaise-longue where she was sewing, and added softly, ‘We do, you know. I shall be the envy
of the ton.’
    By the time the
carriages arrived at the front door on the Friday evening to take them to
Bedford Row, even Maryanne had yielded to the excitement.
    She took a last
look at herself in the mirror and was pleased with what she saw, though she
wondered if her dress might be too plain for a costume ball. It was one of her
mother’s which she had kept because the material was so fine, and because Mama
had been very fond of it, though as far as Maryanne could remember she never
had occasion to wear it. Its overskirt was of white Nottingham lace, trimmed
with white satin ribbon and the underskirt of finest white silk, which draped
itself into soft folds from a high waist. It showed her figure to perfection
without being too daring. A wreath of greenery around curls dressed a la
Grecque and a sash of twisted foliage across her shoulder and over her breast,
together with a pair of silver sandals, put the finishing touches to her idea
of what a wood nymph might look like. She smiled to herself remembering Jack
Daw, who had given her the idea.
    ‘Oh, Miss
Maryanne, you look so pretty,’ her maid said, opening the door for her. ‘Bowl
them over, you will.’
    ‘Thank you,
Rose. You need not wait up for me.’ Trembling a little and with shining eyes,
she went slowly downstairs.
    Mark was
already in the hall, dressed as a highwayman with a many-caped cloak and a
large feathered hat. He turned from admiring himself in a long mirror and
smiled up at her. ‘My, oh my!’ he exclaimed.
    She smiled. ‘Do
you like it?’
    ‘Like it?’ He
laughed and came forward to take her hand. ‘I am speechless.’
    ‘That certainly
makes a change,’ said his father, coming out of the library with Mrs Ryfield.
He turned to Maryanne and for a moment looked startled. Then he smiled. ‘You
look charming, my dear, so much like your mother, I was quite taken aback.’
There was a look of sadness behind his eyes which lingered for a while even
after he had smiled and said, ‘You will have them all by the ears. Now, where
is Caroline?’
    ‘I am here.’
Caroline appeared, at the top of the stairs, regal as Queen Elizabeth, complete
with red wig and a huge starched ruff. The family diamonds, with their hard
white glitter, encircled a décolletage which was only just decent. She
descended the stairs slowly, defying anyone to do anything but praise her, and
although her father’s brows rose a little his only comment was, ‘A queen
indeed.’
    The press of
carriages in the street outside Lady Markham’s home meant that they were kept
waiting in line for several minutes before they could reach the door and
alight, but at last they found themselves in a brilliantly lit foyer, where a
footman took their cloaks. Then they made their way along a wide corridor to
where