in the august lady's salon, she said, 'I have a rather unusual favor to ask of you, madame,' and then she explained. 'It must, however, remain a secret until the last moment,' she concluded her request.
'My dear!' the countess exclaimed. 'You have a marvelous flair for the dramatic. The knowledge alone that you will have George announce your betrothal at my ball guaranteed it to be the most sought-after invitation of the autumn season. Why, even the king is coming!
'Tomorrow night,' Lucinda replied, her blue eyes twinkling.
'You are such a naughty puss,' the countess chortled archly.
Lucinda arrived home to find her brother and his wife had arrived from the country. Caroline was only just out of childbed, having delivered a third son, Frederick Augustus, three weeks earlier.
'George and I want you and your husband to be Freddie's godparents,' Caroline said cheerfully. /
'I am certain that can be arranged,' Lucinda replied. Then when her sister-in-law went upstairs to rest, she took her brother aside. 'I want you to obtain a special license immediately,' she told him.
'What's this?' the Bishop of Wellington demanded of her.
'Is it not plain, Georgie? I want a special license so I may be married. Don't you want me married? I thought that's what my summer was all about. To bring me to my senses so I would remarry.'
'But I thought…' he began to bluster.
'I know what you thought. You thought I should announce my betrothal and then have a large society wedding,' Lucinda said.
'Yes, I did,' her brother replied. 'After all, your first marriage to Harrington was a small and mean affair. I thought this time you would want something more grand, Luci.' He actually looked disappointed, his round face downcast.
'It shall be grand, Georgie, which is why I need a special license, and lord knows I am plump enough in the pocket to afford it,' she laughed. 'Tomorrow night you will announce my betrothal, and then you will marry me to my intended right there at the Whitley ball. I have already spoken with Lady Anne, and she is thrilled. It seems my behavior has made her little do a huge success even before it is held. She is convinced my marrying in the midst of her ball will raise her to the rank of an unforgettable hostess. A special license allows me to marry without the bother of banns, and in any location, as long as a clergyman performs the ceremony.'
'But what will your intended say? And who is your intended, Luci?' the bishop wanted to know.
'Any man who wants to marry me will do so when offered the first opportunity, Georgie. As for who he is, I have said I will not tell even you until the time comes. Be satisfied, brother. After all, you are getting what you wanted.
'Well,' the bishop reasoned, 'it will certainly be talked of for years to come, Luci. Very well, you shall have your special license, my dear. You have, after all, been a very good girl. I was worried leaving you alone here in London these past six weeks, but I am given to understand that your behavior has been exemplary. There has not been even the slightest hint of scandal.'
'Thank you, Georgie,' Lucinda replied, amused by his comment. 'Now I must leave you. I have a final fitting on my ball gown for tomorrow night.'
The bishop smiled, well pleased as she departed the salon. She had always been a minx, his younger sister, but her summer had obviously done her good. He had felt a touch of guilt putting her in the hands of The Master, but obviously it had done her no real harm. While she might still be a bit headstrong, she appeared to be far more reasonable in her attitude.
Her plans for her wedding might be a bit eccentric, but she was right when she said any man she wanted to wed would wed her given the first opportunity. Besides, Lucinda had obviously planned this event most carefully. It was best not to argue with her in this instance. All of the most important people would be there tomorrow night. It would be quite entertaining. And, once she was married, there was no going back. Lucinda would be her husband's problem.
The next day the household was very busy preparing for the ball. The ladies' gowns were checked for any last-minute problems. The skirts ironed perfectly, and the dresses hung carefully. The baths were brought after tea, and the ladies began to prepare for the evening's entertainment. The ball wouldn't begin until nine, and to be precisely on time would be unthinkable, for the hostess and her private party might not be finished dining. The guests would be arriving closer to ten.
Lucinda bathed, and then lay down to rest. Polly would, awaken her at half after eight. Lucinda's gown was, she thought, a triumph. She had insisted her modiste come to Traleigh Square and work on it so no one else would see it before the ball. The silvery pink quilted underskirt was hand-painted with delicate wild flowers. The silver overgown was embroidered with the same flowers. The neckline was low-cut and square. The bodice, finely tucked, had three silver bows decorating it. The engageants, attached to the tightly fitted sleeves, were of pale pink lace and decorated with one silver bow each. The skirts came just to her ankle, revealing her pink silk dancing shoes with their silver buckles. Her jewelry was simple. Pink diamonds in her ears and a small pearl and diamond cross about her neck.
'Ohh, m'lady,' Polly said admiringly, ''tis a beautiful gown.'
'It is, isn't it?' Lucinda agreed. Then she patted her hair. 'I like what you have done,' she told her maid.
'Jessie, her that is replacing me, showed me how, m'lady. She is very clever with hair. She calls this style a Pompadour Hairdress.'
'It suits me,' Lucinda decided aloud, turning her head this way and that. It was really a simple style for all it had been named after the French king's latest mistress. Her rich, dark chestnut hair was combed back from her forehead, and a few curls were then displayed on the side of her head, seemingly pinned with a pink diamond fan.
A knock sounded at the door, and George Worth's head popped into the room. 'Are you ready, Luci? It's quarter to ten o'clock.'
Polly wrapped a rose velvet pelisse trimmed with dark fur along its hood about her mistress and then handed her a large matching fur muff. 'Yer painted fan is in it, and a lawn handkerchief, m'lady.'
'Make certain the bed is remade with lavender-scented linens, and the wine tray on the table,' Lucinda told her maid softly.
'John and I will have it just right, m'lady,' Polly said with a wink.
Lucinda's town coach pulled into the long line of carriages waiting to enter the Whitley mansion. Finally they arrived at the door and were handed out of the vehicle by footmen in black-and-gold livery.
'You have the license?' Lucinda asked her brother for the tenth time.
He pulled it from his pocket and waved it beneath her nose. 'Are you ready to tell me yet who is the fortunate gentleman, Luci?'
'Not yet,' Lucinda said as they entered the house. She and Caroline, who looked quite lovely in several shades of blue, had their cloaks taken by a little maid. They then rejoined George and waited to be announced into the ballroom.
'The most honorable George Worth, Bishop of Wellington, and Mistress Worth. Lady Lucinda Harrington,' the major-domo intoned.
Every eye in the great ballroom swung in their direction, and for a brief moment there was utter silence.
'My dears,' the Countess of Whitley welcomed them, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. 'I ordered extra flowers, Lucinda darling.'
George bowed. His two companions curtsied. Lucinda murmured a soft thank-you. Her heart was pounding wildly. As she passed into the ballroom, she looked about her anxiously.
'Lord Derek Bowen. Lord Lucian Phillips, Earl of Stanton,' the major domo called out.
Relieved, she saw them enter the ballroom. She began to make her way across the ballroom only to be
