Prince, would not have dreamed of doing so. But Prinny went anywhere in society he wanted to go, invited or not.
How very fat he is, was Felicity's dazed thought as the corpulent royal figure moved toward her.
Miss Chubb tried to edge around the outside of the room to get to Felicity. Why had the Prince come this evening of all evenings? wondered Miss Chubb frantically. It had all been going so splendidly, and there had been no flash of recognition on Lord Arthur's face when he had first seen Felicity. And she looked so young and regal, standing in a white silk gown embroidered with tiny diamonds and seed pearls and with the Channing diamonds glittering and flashing.
Felicity sank into a deep curtsey before the Prince Regent. “This is a very great honor,” she said.
“On the contrary,” said the Prince, “it is you who do England honor. We have never been to Brasnia.”
“No, sire?” said Felicity in a shaky voice.
“Can't go anywhere with Boney strangling Europe. Brasnia, now let me see…?”
The color flew from Felicity's cheeks. She was about to be found out.
The Prince shook his heavy head so that the curls of his nut-brown wig bounced and shook. “We have never heard of the place. Where is it?”
“On th-the R-Russian b-border,” stammered Felicity.
“And your father, King…?”
Felicity closed her eyes in despair. She tried to think up some lie, something to say-anything! But it was as if terror had frozen her brain.
“I fear Princess Felicity is overcome with the heat of the rooms,” came Lord Arthur's voice. “Let me explain, sire. Brasnia is a small principality, not a kingdom. It is a very small country, about the size of Luxembourg. Princess Felicity's brother, Prince Georgi, is the ruler.” His voice dropped to a boring monotone. “It is mainly an agricultural country, growing maize-corn, wheat, and oats in the fertile plains surrounding the River Zorg. The river itself produces excellent fish, one of which is the curpa, a local delicacy that has to be cleaned by experts because it contains a deadly poison. Anyone who is unlucky enough to take this poison endures severe fits of vomiting and the flux prior to death. What is even more peculiar is that the vomit is bright green in color…”
“Gad's Oonds!” cried the Prince, holding his fat stomach. “Enough! Enough! We do not wish to hear another word.”
He nodded curtly to Felicity and hurried away. His voice carried back to Felicity and Lord Arthur. “What on earth is up with that fellow, Bessamy? Used to be a wit. Now about the biggest bore in Christendom. We are bored. We wish to leave…”
The Prince's petulant voice faded away as he disappeared out the door of the saloon with Lord Alvanley at his heels.
Felicity looked up nervously at Lord Arthur. Either he had gone raving mad or he had mistaken Brasnia for another country-or he knew the truth about her. And Felicity was very much afraid he knew the truth.
But he merely smiled, a charming smile that lit up his eyes. “You must have accepted many social engagements for the weeks to come, ma'am.”
“N-no,” said Felicity breathlessly. “I mean, I have not accepted any invitations as yet. Madame Chubb… iski is going to look through them all and choose which ones we should attend.”
“So, you had not planned to go to the balloon ascension at the Belvedere Tea Gardens in Pentonville tomorrow afternoon?”
“No, my lord.”
“Then, you and… er… Madame Chubiski must allow me and Mr. Godolphin the pleasure of escorting you there tomorrow at three o'clock.”
“S-so soon? I had planned to stay quietly at home for a few days.”
“Why not, Your Highness? Such poor creatures as myself and Dolph will not be able to come near you once you start the social round. Besides, we could talk about that fascinating country, Brasnia.”
“Yes, we could, couldn't we,” said Felicity miserably. She felt he was teasing her, playing with her. Well, she might as well accept his invitation and learn whether he planned to expose her.
“We shall be pleased to go with you,” she said.
He looked down at the downcast little face under the flashing tiara. “Then, I shall go and tell Dolph the good news.” He stepped back from her, bowing as he went, but before other guests could close in round Felicity, he suddenly said, “My goodness. How I have misled our Regent. I was thinking of another country altogether. I fear I had forgotten that I do not know Brasnia at all.”
Felicity looked at him sharply, but could see no guile or mockery on his face.
He bowed again.
At that moment, Miss Chubb finally reached Felicity's side. She hoped nothing had gone wrong. But Felicity was already talking to some of the other guests. She looked relaxed and happy-happier than she had looked all evening. Miss Chubb smiled with relief. For one moment, she had thought Lord Arthur must have said something to upset Felicity, but it was obvious from Felicity's manner that nothing had gone wrong at all.
“No, I shall not wear that wretched tiara again during the day,” said Felicity the following afternoon as she and Miss Chubb made ready for their outing. “It makes my head ache.”
“But you are supposed to be a princess,” protested Miss Chubb.
“I am sure princesses do not go about encrusted with jewels. Hand me that rope of pearls. They are magnificent enough on their own. And see, I have this pretty straw bonnet ornamented with silk flowers. Surely that is smart enough for an afternoon occasion? Besides, the
“I suppose so,” said Miss Chubb. “You seem to have been accepted by everyone. Lord Arthur worries me, however. All that nonsense he told the Prince Regent about Brasnia…”
“But I told you, he said he had made a mistake. I thought he might be mocking me, but there was no mockery or teasing in his face. All the same, it is as well to make sure, which is why I have not cried off.”
“Do not waste too much time with Lord Arthur,” said Miss Chubb anxiously. “He is engaged, or had you forgot?”
“I am not interested in him. He is too old and sophisticated and makes me feel uncomfortable. I have not told you, my dear Miss Chubb, but I have decided I do not wish to be married
Miss Chubb looked bewildered. “Then, what is all this agony about? All our preparations, not to mention the horrendous expense of that rout?”
“Well, I thought, you know, that after a few weeks of the Season, we should both retire somewhere in the country and be quiet and comfortable. But it would be pleasant to have a little fun first.”
“Fun?” echoed Miss Chubb in a hollow voice. She remembered her own stark terror when the Prince Regent had been announced, the worry and fret over the preparations, the skeleton of exposure as an impostor always standing in the closet waiting to leap out.
“Yes,
But at three o'clock exactly, she and Miss Chubb descended the stairs just as Lord Arthur and Dolph arrived.
Felicity was wearing a blue muslin gown embroidered with little sprays of golden corn under a pelisse of gold silk. The Channing pearls glowed around her neck, and her jaunty straw hat was worn at a rakish angle on her red curls.
Miss Chubb, hoping to make up for Felicity's lack of display, was wearing a black velvet gown on which blazed an indeterminate number of jeweled brooches and pins. She was wearing a black velvet slouch hat that made her look like a highwayman.
She looked so worried and gloomy that Dolph, surveying the acres of black velvet, asked her whether she was in mourning.
“No, I am not,” said Miss Chubb sharply, “and do not make personal remarks, young man.” Dolph was crushed into silence. He bowed his way out of the house backward toward the carriage, tripped on the top step, and
