Page 20 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘Completely out of the question.’ She ruined the effect of this firm response by adding, ‘Besides, I have not brought a ballgown.’
‘It is a masquerade. I could find you a mask and a domino and your gown would not be seen. In fact, no one need ever know you were at the ball.’
She shook her head. ‘Please, do not tempt me. You know I cannot.’
‘But you would like to.’
Flora hesitated. She could not lie. The thought of dancing with Matt Talacre in that lovely ballroom was almost irresistible.
‘Very much.’ She swallowed a sigh and squared her shoulders. ‘Thank you for a most enjoyable day, Mr Talacre.’
He took her outstretched hand and bowed over it.
‘I shall come to your room at ten o’clock, in case you change your mind. If not, ignore my knock. I promise you I will not persist.’
And with that he turned and walked away, leaving Flora to make her way upstairs to her bedchamber.
She would not go, of course, even though she was flattered by Matt Talacre’s attentions.
She had thoroughly enjoyed his company and her spirits were quite buoyed up by her outing, so much so that she was still smiling broadly when she found Betty waiting for her, a little pale but determined now to resume her duties.
Even the maid’s irate greeting could not dent her good humour.
‘And where in the world have you been, miss?’
Flora laughed. ‘Goodness, Betty, you sound just like my old governess.’
‘Your aunt sent me along to look after you,’ Betty scolded her with all the authority of an old and trusted retainer. ‘Goodness knows what she would say if she knew you was going here there and everywhere alone!’
Not by the flutter of an eye did Flora correct her maid’s assumption.
‘I have been no further than the gardens,’ she replied, handing over her parasol before removing her cap and spencer. ‘Since you are in no condition to talk to the servants for me, I must make my own judgement about Bellemonte and its owner.’
‘Aye, well, it ain’t your place to be making judgements,’ Betty told her. ‘It is no business of yours and you should leave all that to Lord Whilton.’
Flora held her tongue. She knew that one word would silence her servant, but she would not utter it.
She was sincerely fond of Betty, who had looked after her since she was a child.
She knew that the older woman had her best interests at heart, so she meekly accepted these strictures and set about coaxing her maid out of her ill humour.
She was in part successful, and Betty was further reassured when Flora confirmed she would be dining alone in her room again.
‘I am that glad to hear it, miss. If I am honest, just getting up and dressed has quite tired me out. I shall be glad to get back into my bed again. And an early night will do us both good.’
‘I am sure it will,’ Flora agreed, although the idea of retiring while it was still light was more than a little depressing, particularly when she thought of the dancing that would be taking place almost within sight of her window.
‘And there’ll be no need for you to change out of your day dress, Miss.’
‘Oh, but I think I should,’ said Flora, surprising herself as much as her maid.
‘But why, miss, if you are dining alone again? You didn’t do so yesterday.’
Flora had quite decided she would not go to the Pavilion Ball tonight, but somehow she was not quite ready to give up the idea. Her maid gave a long-suffering sigh and went over to the linen press.
‘Very well, then, Miss Flora, there’s the sarsenet, or perhaps the green cotton.’
‘No, the Venetian gauze, I think.’
Betty looked at her, aghast. ‘Surely you would not waste your new evening gown on a solitary dinner in your bedchamber!’
But Flora would not be moved, and with a tut of disapproval the maid fetched out the gown and helped her mistress to dress.
‘There.’ Betty stood back with a grudging nod of approval. ‘It does look very well on you, miss.’
Flora turned back and forth before the mirror to observe how the tawny gown with its gauze overdress caught the light as she moved. She turned to give her maid a kiss on the cheek.
‘Thank you, my dearest Betty.’ She put a hand to the row of pearl buttons down the centre of the bodice.
‘And the advantage of this gown is that I can undress myself. It means you need not worry another moment about me. No, no, I will brook no arguments on this. In fact, I order you to go to bed and rest, as soon as you have finished your dinner!’
* * *
Throughout her solitary meal Flora battled with her conscience. Her sensible self was adamant that her resolve was as strong as ever. She would not go out. But another, more rebellious spirit was eager to kick over the traces of her dull, conventional life. Just a little more.
Why else did you choose this gown, she asked herself, if not to prove that you can make a choice and resist temptation, when the time comes? If Mr Talacre should call you will see him, face to face, and refuse.
Yes, exactly that, she decided, signalling to the hotel servants to clear away the remains of her dinner.
In a few weeks she would marry Viscount Whilton.
She would go with him to London and take her place in Society, where there would be far greater lures and enticements than she faced here, tonight.
She needed to be prepared, to know she could face temptation and not weaken.
However, when the servants withdrew and Flora was alone, with only the faint sound of Betty’s snores for company, the truth crept back in and would not be ignored. She wanted to go to the ball tonight and dance the night away.
More specifically, she wanted to dance with Matt Talacre. One last time.