Page 45 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
Miss Playford’s composure nearly cracked. “It is nothing. Pre-wedding nerves, I suppose.”
“I have lived long enough to recognize true distress,” Eugenia said slowly. “I wonder if there has been adequate opportunity for you and Mr. Ashworth to truly know one another’s hearts? The most illuminating conversation I ever had was high above London, with nothing but air between myself and the truth.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“In a hot-air balloon, my dear. The most liberating experience. One feels both removed from the world and somehow more connected to what truly matters. Oh—!” Eugenia patted the girl’s hand, excitement suddenly coursing through her. “Please excuse me. I believe I’ve just had an inspiration.”
She hurried back across the ballroom, golden feathers quivering.
“I have it!” she announced breathlessly. “I must organize for Miss Venetia Playford and Henry Ashworth to be alone in a hot-air balloon. It will enable them to discover the true love I am certain exists between them.”
Although Thornton raised his eyebrows with interested amusement, Lady Pendleton’s mouth opened in shock. “That, my dear Eugenia,” she said, “is the most outlandish proposition I have heard you make all year.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Caroline tugged nervouslyat the ribbons of her shepherdess costume as she scanned the ballroom for Henry’s distinctive tricorn hat. The crowd seemed determined to obscure her view at every turn, dancers and masqueraders swirling beneath the flickering chandeliers.
“Caroline, do stand still,” her mother hissed. “Lord Windermere has been attempting to catch your eye these past ten minutes. It is the height of rudeness to pretend not to notice.”
“I wasn’t pretending, Mama. I simply didn’t see him.”
“As you didn’t see Mr. Ashworth, I suppose?” Lady Weston’s mouth thinned. “I have warned you repeatedly about the dangers of associating with that young man in the current climate. Yes, you might have been childhood friends, but—he is now mired in scandal and you are looking for a husband.”
Caroline bit her lip. The injustice burned. If only her mother knew what Amelia had discovered. She wished Amelia had been able to better communicate with the gossips that the mysterious lady had been an actress paid by Barnaby to create precisely this scandal. But Amelia did not go about in public—or private—due to her delicate situation.
“I’m feeling rather warm, Mama,” Caroline said, fanning herself vigorously. “Might I step onto the terrace for just a moment of fresh air?”
Her mother glanced dubiously at Caroline’s flushed cheeks. “Very well, but only for a moment. I shall accompany you.”
“Oh, but look—isn’t that Lady Ferguson beckoning to you?” Caroline nodded toward a portly woman in peacock blue who was merely adjusting her gloves. “She did mention something to me earlier about intending to speak with you about the subscription for St. George’s Hospital.”
Her mother’s attention swiveled instantly. “Well, you may take your air, but remain in full view of the terrace doors and return within five minutes. Not a second more.”
“Yes, Mama,” Caroline promised, already edging away.
She made her way through the crush, her heart beating rapidly. There, by the stone balustrade, his highwayman’s cape lifting in the evening breeze, Henry stood alone, gazing over the darkened gardens.
Caroline glanced back to ensure her mother was engaged with Lady Ferguson, then stepped onto the terrace and moved swiftly to Henry’s side.
“I’ve been searching everywhere for you,” she whispered.
He turned, surprise evident behind his mask, then smiled with genuine pleasure. “Miss Weston. Or should I say, the most enchanting shepherdess in all England?”
“Oh, you!” she said with pretend coyness. How she wanted to grip his hand—but anyone observing might instantly learn the truth. “I have only a few minutes. I must tell you what Amelia has discovered.”
Henry sobered, drawing her toward a secluded corner. “About the lady in blue?”
Caroline nodded. “She is an actress called Miss Barrett, who received payment from Barnaby.”
Henry’s jaw tightened.
“There’s more. The payment was five pounds, and Amelia thinks—as do I—that this was no prank, despite what Miss Barrett claims.”
“Barnaby? Why, I thought our main adversary was Windermere. With help from Mrs. Pike.” Henry said grimly. “But Barnaby? He is to marry my sister. I thought he was my friend.”
“Caroline!” Her mother’s voice cut through the night air but fortunately Caroline was out of view. “I expressly told you five minutes!”
Caroline stepped back into view hastily, whispering over her shoulder, “I must go. But be careful, Henry. If Barnaby and Windermere are working together—”
