Virginia Henley Read Free

have a dashing social life, unconfined by the strictures of an unmarried girl.”
    “That is the first inducement I’ve ever heard for the married state,” Diana said, tucking away the information.
    Prudence returned to the music room, avid to know what dances Diana had learned.
    “You go too fast, Mrs. Davenport. Lady Diana is a diamond in the rough. To make her a diamond of the first water will take a little social polishing. I teach the dance steps at my studio in Mayfair, where we have room to do justice to the minuet, contredanse, and the Scottish reel. Here is my card.” She rapped the floor with her stick. “Be there at two on Monday afternoon.”

Chapter 2

    After Dame Lightfoot left, Diana protested, “Aunt Prudence, I didn’t learn anything except how to fan myself. This is a total waste of time and money. The woman is a dragon-faced martinet … a figure of fun…” Diana’s words trailed off as she saw the hurt look on Prudence’s face.
    “I would have given anything for a dancing mistress when I was your age, but my physical condition did not allow me such a luxury. I have been a martyr to pain all my life.” Her hand stroked her arthritic hip. “It pains me deeply when you rebel, Diana. It would please me if you would accept dance instruction from Dame Lightfoot.”
    Diana felt ashamed of herself. “Of course I shall keep the appointment, Aunt Prudence. I didn’t realize how selfish it was of me to complain.”
    “Ah, my dear, it is something you will learn with maturity, to suffer in silence, as I do.”
    Diana’s suspicion that Prudence was a hypochondriac only doubled her guilt.
What if she really is in pain?
“We’re invited to afternoon tea at Emily Castlereagh’s. Do you feel up to it?”
    “As a matter of fact I don’t, my dear. I fear I shall be forced to take to my couch this afternoon.”
    “I’ll send a note with our regrets.”
    Prudence was aghast. “You will do no such thing. Lady Castlereagh is a patroness of Almack’s. The young ladies invited to tea today will receive their vouchers. Bridget shall accompany you.”
    Diana knew instinctively that Prudence didn’t feel comfortable with some of the aristocratic hostesses who led society because she had no title. Diana was invited only because Emily Castlereagh had been a dear friend of her father’s. Emily was married to the Marquis of Londonderry and her father was the Earl of Buckinghamshire. Though she was at the summit of the social scale, Diana didn’t find her in the least daunting. In fact she was an endearing eccentric who adopted an oddity of dress.
    “You can wear the chocolate bombazine walking dress; it would be perfect for Lady Castlereagh’s tea.”
    Chocolate my foot,
thought Diana.
It’s the closest shade to cat ca-ca I’ve ever seen.
    “And I know I don’t need to remind you never to walk along St. James’s Street where the gentlemen have their clubs.”
    “Of course not,” Diana replied, deciding on the spot that’s exactly what she would do.
    Diana chose the most outrageous hat she owned to compensate for the respectable brown walking dress with morocco half-boots to match. The hat sported a full rooster-tail from some hapless leghorn who had met with misfortune.
    Bridget, the maid who accompanied her, asked, “Aren’t we going the wrong way, Lady Diana?”
    “Yes, Biddy, we are. We are going the long way about so we can walk along St. James’s Street.”
    Bridget McCartney had a face crowded with freckles and a turned-up nose. Prudence would have dismissed the Irish maid long ago if Diana hadn’t put her foot down.Biddy’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ooh, I’m game if you are.”
    Diana’s lips twitched. “If that remark is prompted by my hat, I assure you I won’t start crowing.”
    When Biddy giggled, Diana thought how lovely it was to have someone share her sense of humor.
    Coming out of Brooks’s Club at number 60 were two men who looked over the females with an