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Corinna put her arms around her. ‘I’m glad you think so.

But it is you who have shown me yourself.

Unschooled and natural as you are, you have a transparency that is rare.

There is only a light veiling of the soul within.

’ Corinna placed a linen cloth over the painting and they left the studio.

Gibbons had just opened the door to a young messenger boy with a large dress box, tied with a bow.

Eliza ran forward. ‘My dress from Madame Delaunay! All thanks to you, Mrs Wolfe!’

Corinna smiled. ‘I’m very much looking forward to seeing you wearing it tonight.

Ever since I had my first fine ball dress made for me, I’ve realised beautiful clothes are the wings that give us flight.

’ Eliza took the box from Gibbons and dropping Corinna a slight curtsey, ran up the stairs to her bedchamber.

* * *

She stood at the window watching a grey bank of cloud blow in across the rooftops.

The sky grew dark and she shivered. This was the stormiest of springs and another squall was on its way.

Sudden gusts of wind began to beat the branches of the beech tree in the mews and the air grew electric.

Just as a streak of lightning and thunder rattled the windows, the rain arrived in rods slanting out of the sky.

Eliza always found storms exciting but was pleased to be safe and warm inside when they struck, not camping with the circus in a field somewhere.

Polly’s rap on the door went unheard, so great was the elemental power unleashed on the city.

Corinna’s maid had appeared early to help Eliza with dressing and styling her hair.

The lace and tiffany ball gown was hanging in the dusky light, appearing shimmering and enchanted.

Polly’s eyes widened. ‘Lawks, miss, that’s a dress fit for a fairy princess! ’

Eliza laughed with delight. ‘You’re right, Polly.

It’s more beautiful than I could have imagined.

’ She had just finished washing and stood in a loose gown, her hair slightly damp and curling at her neck.

‘It has special stays sewn in as the back of the bodice is cut low. Only the lace covers my back and shoulders. It’s a style from Paris, apparently. ’

This also meant Eliza could not wear the usual lawn chemise but stood naked as a water nymph as Polly slipped the dress over her head.

The pared-down stays laced at the side so the wearer could manage to dress herself.

Polly offered to fasten them, then smoothed down the blue tiffany lining.

She let the lilac lace fall over the skirt and Eliza moved to check it in the looking glass by the window.

She could barely believe that the wild circus girl she had been could look like this.

The small bodice was lined at the front with the silk and her décolletage was exposed, as was the fashion, but her puff sleeves and the rest of the bodice back was only covered by the airy delicacy of the lace.

She was entirely clothed with the silk and filigree of the lace, yet from her breastbone to her shoulders, spine and shoulder blades, she appeared practically naked, surprising the eye and making her skin luminous.

Eliza let out an involuntary sigh. ‘Oh!’

‘You look beautiful, miss,’ Polly could not help herself exclaiming, then turned practical and extracted from the shelves in the dressing room a long pair of silk satin gloves in dove grey. ‘That finishes off the look. Now I must do your hair.’

* * *

The thunder had not rumbled away but continued to rattle above the louring clouds that extinguished the last of the light.

Eliza descended the stairs and picking up an extra candlestick, entered the drawing room, the precious copy of The Corsair in her hands.

She settled down to read while she waited for Mr Flynn, Corinna and Alick.

She was engrossed in Byron’s great bravura epic and wondered why it affected her so much, like a message from another world.

As she read on she realised the lonely, mysterious hero was her Lord Purfoy.

Zadoc Flynn entered the room, dressed for the ball in his dark superfine coat, satin pantaloons, silk stockings and almond-toed shiny black dancing shoes that somehow managed to make his large feet look quite elegant.

‘I’ve just had these clothes made for me by Mr Shilton’s tailor,’ he said with pride, showing off the quality of the cut.

Eliza thought he looked most attractive, his cheerful expression and weather-beaten face and the emerald in his ear contrasting with the fine tailoring of his newly acquired clothes in a most pleasing way. ‘You look fine and dandy, Mr Flynn,’ she said, smiling.

He let out a great gust of laughter, realising she was repeating back to him one of his sayings.

‘Well, you look far too beautiful to be just fine and dandy, Miss Gray; I’d say more of a goddess escaped from Mount Olympus , which after your earthy outfit and performance this morning is close to a miracle!

’ He put out his hand, brought her to her feet and twirled her round.

‘My, my, is such display allowed?’ he asked mischievously as he saw her back for the first time.

Corinna and Alick had just entered the room and caught the end of his playful question.

‘It is the height of Parisian fashion, Mr Flynn; beware your ignorance in such matters.’ Corinna was protective and turned to Eliza, her eyes sparkling.

‘That dress suits you just as well as I hoped. And so effective in its simplicity.’

Corinna herself was wearing a dress of silver tissue that shone in the candlelight and Alick, even in his most formal clothes, looked informal, as if he had dressed in a hurry and had better things to do.

He smiled at the two women. ‘Well, with the storm still raging and given that my companions are so beautifully dressed, I’m glad I’ve called for the best chaise.

’ Although Lady Bassett’s mansion was just round the corner in Grosvenor Square, it was not acceptable to simply stroll round from Brook Street.

The weather made this even less acceptable.

They all put on their cloaks and Gibbons and the men wielded large black umbrellas to protect the women from the rain.

The carriage traversed the few hundred yards towards the Bassett house but was stalled in a queue of other carriages filled with guests.

So great was the crush that wheels were barely moving, the horses growing restive in the driving rain.

They could see the house ablaze with light a mere fifty yards away and when eventually they reached the portico to disembark, they were met by liveried servants who held aloft their own umbrellas to help the guests brave the weather and navigate the puddles underfoot.

Eliza had never been to a Society soirée, let alone a ball, and the extravaganza that confronted her quickened her pulse and filled her with trepidation.

The hall and drawing room were thronged with brightly plumaged women and dark-suited men.

The ballroom was built across the back of the house and led into an orangery and then into the garden beyond.

Chandeliers and candelabra filled with burning candles were reflected in the rococo mirrors that lined the room, fracturing and multiplying the colour of the dresses and scintillas of light from myriad flames until it was a phantasy of feathered headdresses, spangled silk, jewels, laughing faces and twirling figures.

She turned to Corinna, her face glowing. ‘This is such a spectacle !’

‘You are lucky to have the best as your first experience.’

The small orchestra was playing a reel. Eliza was stopped in her tracks as she listened to the rich complexity of sound that flowed from the violins, viola, violoncello and horn; to someone who had only heard Corinna’s piano-forte or the percussive cornet and drum of the circus band, this sound was thrilling.

The spirit of the music had infected the dancers with a joie de vivre which made Eliza long to join in.

At her elbow, Zadoc Flynn said with a smile, ‘We’ve practised this; I suppose we ought to risk our first public display. ’ He put out his hand in invitation.

Eliza followed him into a set and they began coordinating their steps with the other dancers, at first tentatively, then with the gay abandon that characterised everyone else in their group.

Eliza could not help laughing as Zadoc Flynn grasped her hands to twirl her round and pass her on to the next dancer in line.

As the music drew to an end, both leaned in together, at ease in their familiarity as they walked through to the refreshments room, exhilarated by the dance.

Eliza scanned the crowd for her new friend, Marina Fairley, and, although she could barely admit it to herself, she longed to see Lord Purfoy.

The orchestra was starting to play again as Ferdinand Shilton strolled up to Corinna and Eliza standing with Alick and Flynn who were both drinking champagne.

‘What a grand rout this is!’ their dandy friend said, his blue eyes full of fun.

‘And what a picture the two most beautiful women of my acquaintance make.’ Most other men were dressed in coats of dark-coloured superfine but Ferdy Shilton, never one to hide his jack-a-dandy light under a bushel, was wearing his new silver coat and oyster satin pantaloons.

He offered his arm to Eliza. ‘Will you allow me to escort you to the dance?’

‘I shall be delighted, Mr Shilton.’ Eliza joined him in a set of four to dance a quadrille. ‘Please forgive me my mistakes; this is the first time I’ve danced this with anyone other than Mr Flynn or our dancing teacher.’

‘You’re a natural dancer, Miss Gray. You forget I’ve seen Clorinda the Winged Venus perform.’ He was murmuring his mischievous comment as the quadrille brought them close together before separating them again.