Page 7 of Enslaved
“Oh, I see,” Diana replied.
“Did you dance with him?” “No.”
“Did he ask you?” Prudence probed.
“Yes,” Diana admitted.
“Then why in the world didn’t you dance with him? He’s a most respectable young man.”
“Indeed?” Diana’s lips twitched in remembrance.
“I cannot believe you turned him down!”
“Actually, I wasn’t confident enough with my dancing. It didn’t matter with William and the others, they seem so young, but Peter Hardwick was different.”
Prudence let out a sigh of relief. Diana was definitely attracted. “What you need is more time with Dame Lightfoot.”
“Oh, I agree, Prudence. I have a lesson this afternoon. Can you spare Bridget?”
Diana stood mesmerized in the mirrored room. The white tunic felt light as thistledown. Its skirt, made from gauze scarves, fell in points about her thighs. One shoulder was daringly bared, setting off the golden amulets to perfection. A small gilt arrow case was strapped to her back and its golden laces crisscrossed beneath her breasts, emphasizing their round fullness. The sandal thongs were also crisscrossed up her calves, making her slim legs look unbelievably long. At the crown of her head a jeweled fillet held her glorious hair so that it cascaded all the way down her back to her buttocks. She not only looked like a goddess, she actually felt like one.
“The masquerade ball is Friday night,” Allegra tempted.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Diana refused.
Allegra handed her a winged mask made from the feathers of fantailed doves. When she put it on, she realized that no one would ever recognize her. The seed that Allegra had planted suddenly sprouted. “Will you go with me? However shall I get away from Prudence Friday night?”
“Leave all to me.” Allegra waved a dismissive hand as if it were a magic wand.
* * *
When Diana arrived back in Grosvenor Square, the hall table held half-a-dozen calling cards. She skimmed through them quickly looking for a certain name. Her cheeks took on a delicate hue when she found it. When Prudence handed her a nosegay of rosebuds and sweetpeas, her color deepened. “Peter Hardwick, how charming,” she said casually, masking her pleasure.
“Rather presumptuous,” Prudence remarked shrewdly, hoping Diana would jump to his defense. She was disappointed when Diana agreed with her.
“Yes, he is.” She buried her nose in the flowers to inhale their heavenly fragrance.
The next morning Dame Lightfoot paid a call upon Prudence. Her whalebone corset made her as rigid as her ebony-topped cane, lending her the appearance of a dowager duchess. Diana kept her face perfectly straight as she listened with awe.
“Both Lady Melbourne and Lady Bessborough have requested that I give their daughters extra lessons in the hope that they will outshine my other pupils who are making their debuts. However, my code prevents me from being aught but scrupulously fair to all my young ladies. To that end I ask your permission to allow Diana to come to my studio on Friday evening.”
“Your ethics are to be commended, Dame Lightfoot.”
Diana cleared her throat to prevent herself from choking.
“I shall accompany you, Diana. You cannot be out after dark without me.”
“I’ll take the carriage,” Diana offered quickly, “and Bridget shall accompany me. I wouldn’t dream of having you sit for hours waiting for me.”
Prudence glanced uncertainly toward Dame Lightfoot.
Her code was strict enough to set the standard for what was, and was not, respectable.
“My other young ladies will arrive by carriage. A maid is sufficient chaperon.” The dragon had spoken.
When Prudence capitulated, Dame Lightfoot stood to leave. She inclined her head stiffly toward her pupil. “Until tomorrow.”
Diana repeated gravely, “Until tomorrow,” but inside her, excitement bubbled like frothy champagne!
