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“And that is not all,” added Marleigh. “You will be changing after the courses.”

“Changing?” asked Sarah. “Our gowns? ”

“Changing your dinner partners,” said Marleigh. “Different men, in and out of the rooms.”

Georgette laughed. “Well, at least we shall not be forced to endure the same man all night.”

“I have never heard of such a thing,” said Lilly. “Why would he do this?”

“The servants must be furious,” said Sarah.

“No, Miss. They are all delighted, for his lordship sent down a sum to thank them for the trouble, and at least one scullery maid fainted from the generosity of her portion. They said one of the footmen cried, for he will be sending it home to his mother, and she’s sick with the gout, and it was just the amount needed for her medicine.

So no, no one is distressed, they are quite happy to oblige him. ”

“Well then, the real question becomes, what is everyone wearing?” Georgette drawled. “Since evidently, our partners shall have ample time to scrutinise it.”

“A pink gown,” said Lilly.

“Oh, yes that one,” said Georgette. “Delightful. Rather clings to your bottom, does it not?”

“No!”

“Oh, the pink silk gauze?” Sarah sighed. “I love that gown. The embroidery is heavenly and your bosom looks?—”

“Like anyone else’s bosom,” Lilly protested.

“Lilly, darling, no one, but no one, has such a bosom as you,” Georgette informed her seriously. “And atop such a tiny waist! Dearest, I should despise you if I did not love you so. Drape some silk gauze over that, and Saye will not know what hit him.”

“We shall not be able to partner with all the gentlemen,” said Lilly. “Surely it cannot be more than three courses? And there are ten gentlemen present so…”

“Ten gentlemen, but only nine ladies,” Sarah observed. “Rather strange is it not? Lady Aurelia is always so careful with her numbers.”

“Perhaps someone fell ill and had to decline at the last minute.”

“But how odd that she would allow Saye to contrive such a scheme with an imbalance in her numbers,” Sarah insisted. “Surely she would realise it meant someone—some man—would dine alone at some point.”

“Mr Darcy’s intended is not here,” said Lilly. “A pity, for I rather wished to meet her. I hear she is lovely.”

“I should very much like to meet her. The lady who has secured Mr Darcy! She must be rather a fearsome sort, do you not think?” Sarah asked.

“No, no. I hear she is kind. He is quite in love with her,” Lilly said.

They were interrupted then, for Marleigh insisted it was time to be dressed, and the other ladies were called to do likewise.

When Lilly descended the stairs, she was met by Lady Aurelia who informed her, “The yellow parlour, my dear, shall be yours for the evening.”

“The yellow one? Rather far off, is it not? ”

“Not so very far,” Lady Aurelia replied. “My mother has just redone all the furnishings in it, very prettily I might add. We shall have five courses, and you must remain in the yellow parlour throughout. We shall not separate tonight—all will gather in the drawing room after dessert.”

“But is it not scandalous for all of us to be sent off from one another in this way?” Lilly asked.

“Your maid will dine with you,” said Lady Aurelia. “She is there now…at a little distance of course, but you need not fear your reputation.”

“Then I am off to the yellow parlour,” Lilly said with a little smile. Never let it be said she was not an agreeable guest.

She set off, conscious of the swish of her gown against her legs.

Her friends were right—it did rather set off her figure.

The material draped elegantly over the curve of her hips, managing to accent her bottom and her bosom.

Marleigh had been particularly aggressive with her corset this night, raising her breasts to the point where Lilly thought they might hit her chin when she chewed. She hoped it was not all in vain.

She knew not what to make of Saye. He had been friendly, but not overly so when she arrived, late because there had been some confusion the last time they had changed horses. He had expressed his disappointment that Balton-Sycke could not join them, which made her laugh.

“Sir, I daresay the reason he could not join us is that you did not invite him,” she said, only faintly scoldingly.

“Just so,” Saye acknowledged. “But it does not follow that I cannot regret the fact that he lacks the charm sufficient to make me like him.”

She wondered whether Saye would be one of her partners tonight and prayed he would. If nothing else, it was a waste of a good gown if he did not get to see it.

The yellow parlour was as charming as had been promised.

It was Lady Matlock’s particular room, and everything was done to a lady’s tastes.

Lilly liked it immensely, particularly set as it was with the very finest of the Matlock china and silver.

There were coloured sash windows which could be raised in warmer weather but which tonight reflected the multitude of candles lit within.

Her maid sat in one corner; and a harpist, surprisingly, was sat in another.

Where had Saye managed to come up with a harpist?

She could not imagine the effort required to supply ten makeshift dining rooms with their own musicians.

The harpist began to play, not too loudly, and not too softly, as Lilly awaited her partner for the soup course.

She did, on occasion, find it needful to blot her palms on her gown, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when the door opened, and Mr Darcy entered.

“Good evening,” he said with his customary gravity.

She smiled as he took his seat, simultaneously disappointed and relieved it was he and not Saye.

A footman entered with their soup, and they began to eat.

“Do tell me all about your Miss Bennet,” said Lilly, and it was all he needed.

He smiled, in a way Lilly had never seen him smile, and spoke at length.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was, to Mr Darcy, all things wonderful and perfect, and as Lilly watched him, she recognised that Mr Darcy was a man transformed by love.

I want that , she thought. I want a man to feel thrilled beyond measure to have me, not merely consent to a good match .

Their soup finished, it was time for the next course, the chief part of which was pheasant.

Lilly adored pheasant, but she was less excited to see Mr Anderson arrive to serve it to her.

Not that she disliked the man—he did have a kindliness in his aspect that was very pleasing, but he tended towards reticence.

She resolved to do what she could to draw him out.

Georgette was great friends with the man, although why, she could not say.

Her friend was always so effortlessly fashionable, everyone wished to be her friend, so why she should permit anyone as unfashionable, as uninteresting as Mr Anderson to hang about her so, Lilly could not imagine.

He carved for her, delivering to her plate rather choice morsels, and she thanked him, then did what she could to induce an interesting conversation from him .

It was not easy. He had a tendency to chew for an excessively long time.

Lilly found herself entranced in counting the up and down motion of his jaw, realising that each mouthful was masticated no less than thirty times.

Thirty times! She supposed it might aid the digestion, but it did make conversation difficult.

When the third course appeared, Lilly could only conclude that Saye must despise her for, other than Mr Darcy, he had given her no one to dine with but the least enjoyable persons in the party. This time she was partnered with Lady Aurelia’s husband, Sir Phineas.

Lady Aurelia called him Phin; no one else dared to.

He was an exceedingly wealthy baronet who, it was rumoured, was fifty years old.

Lilly had no idea whether it was true, but she did know he had an odd habit of peering at people like they had done something naughty, and he meant to make them confess to it.

Lilly fought a near-irrepressible urge to confess stealing sweets from the larder.

Thankfully, they were only meant to have a salad and cheese together before the fourth course would arrive, but somehow it seemed to take longer than all the other courses combined.

When Sir Phineas wandered off, Lilly nearly followed him. Clearly her gown had been wasted, and worse, she felt like crying. Did she feel Saye had rejected her? Who was he eating with? Why had he not chosen to eat with her?

There was a lengthy pause, and no one entered the yellow parlour. Pushing back her chair, Lilly walked to the windows, staring out into the dark night and thinking of nothing.

Suddenly, a man was reflected behind her, and she jumped a little, whirling about.

As handsome as he ever was, and perhaps more so, Saye stood resplendent in all black, the colour setting off the gold of his hair, the deep blue of his eyes, and the pure white colour of his dog, who was tight against his left ankle.

“My dear Miss Goddard,” he said. “What are you looking for out there?”

“I…” She found herself a little weak in the knees and forced a complaisant smile to her face. “Nothing. Nothing at all, my lord. Just...just thinking.”

“Oh bosh with the ‘my lord’ business,” he scolded. He extended his arm. “Shall we sit? Or did you wish to carry on staring out of the window?”

She laughed. “I am sure whatever is out there will still be there while I await my fifth partner.”

“Ah, alas, there was a bit of a muddle,” he told her, leading her back to the table. “Some error whereby you shall have to endure me as both your fourth and fifth partner.”

A smile breached her face as she realised what he had done. With a bit of archness in her tone, she said, “A muddle? But sir, I thought it was you who arranged the couples.”

“Mm,” said Saye. He helped her sit, and she felt the lightest brush of his hand against her back. A glancing touch, but it made that peculiar weakness afflict her knees once more, and she was relieved to sit.

Lilly saw a footman enter with an enormous crustacean on a silver tray. “Is that lobster?”

“Yes, I daresay it is. Do you like it?”

“I do not know that I have ever had it...not that way. I have eaten lobster patties of course.”

“You will love it. We shall drench it in butter, and it is much better than a patty, I assure you. Shall we eat then?” He signalled the footman, who somehow produced an oddly shaped bottle. “Uncork it James, and carefully.”

The footman did as bid and handed it to Saye who poised it over Lilly’s glass. “You have to drink champagne with your lobster. The flavours are just right together, along with strawberries, of course.”

“Champagne?”

“Veuve Clicquot,” he said, pouring her a generous glass. “I had it smuggled in specially.”

They drank three bottles complete of the champagne, and Lilly knew she was entirely too giggly, a dreadful state to be in when sitting with a rake like Saye.

He sent Marleigh away, first insisting she, too, eat some lobster and strawberries; then he summoned Florizel’s footman, after feeding the canine his own bit of lobster as well.

Lilly did not know which she found most astonishing, that Florizel had his own footman, or that Saye fed him lobster.

She had little time to consider though, for Saye also fed the lobster to her, letting butter drip on her chin and then bending over to kiss it off her.

“Thish is…shish is most scamperous behaviour,” she stammered clumsily. “Where did Marleigh go? Get her back here, Saye, my reputation is in danger.”

“Silly girl,” he scolded. “No one is anywhere near, and in any case, they are enjoying their own dinners, though I daresay no one is having nearly as much fun as we are.”

Fun. That is Saye—lots of fun. He makes having fun his life’s work and would never do something so mundane as marry .

The thought was frighteningly coherent amid the haze of her champagne-addled mind.

Saye did like to amuse himself. Outlandish schemes and champagne and lobster dinners seasoned with kisses and scandal were all de rigueur for him.

His greatest fear, no doubt, was boredom.

It made for a delightful evening, but it was certainly nothing to make a marriage out of.

“I need to go.” She rose abruptly, nearly toppling her chair.

Saye, who had pulled his own chair over to be within six inches of hers, rose and grabbed on to her to steady her. “Whoa there. Where are you going?”

“Bed,” she said and then, most humiliatingly, she hiccoughed. “Thank goodness my mother is not here. She would have had my neck.”

“And such a beautiful neck it is too.” Saye ran one finger down the curve of it, arriving at her collarbone, which he traced with feather-light touches. She shivered, and he leant into her.

“Shall I escort you to your apartment?”

She laughed and hiccoughed again. “No.”

He pouted, looking almost comical. “No? But why not? Why end here when we are having so much fun?”

“No, Saye,” she said. “Fun is not all there is, you know.”

“But Lilly, come now,” he said. “Tell me this, at least. When you put this gown on, did you think of me just a little?”

He smiled at her then, a devastating smile combining boyish charm with a man’s intentions beneath it. A pang went through her; this was not good at all. She was falling right under his spell, just when she needed clarity more than ever.

“Perhaps I did. What of it?”

“So you did! Well, it worked, my dear girl, for I have never seen anything more?—”

“And now I wish I had not.”

Saye wrinkled his brow. “Why?”

“Saye.” She shook her head. “I need to learn to like you a lot less than I do, and I certainly need to dress without worrying whether you should approve of me.”

Too much feeling had crept into that; in a moment, the mood shifted. She saw—was it hurt? surely not—in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“You are…you are this.” She gestured wildly at he r plate and the parlour lit up with so, so very many candles. “Fun! And I…I fall right under your thrall. I have to marry Mr Balton-Sycke.”

“If you marry Hairy Ball-Sack,” he said, “I shall never speak to you again.”

She wondered if he was in earnest; even if he was not, it stung to hear him say so. Her champagne-fuelled delight had worn off like a dash of cold water to the face, and a headache was hard on its heels.

“I am very sorry to hear that,” she said with great dignity. “Pray, give my excuses to the rest. My head aches and I must find my bed.”

And with that, she was off. Saye did not follow her.