Virginia Henley Read Free Page B

knees and allowed her glorious hair to sweep the floor. Then she opened her eyes and laughed up into the face of the dragon.
    The dragon said slowly, “You are a free spirit who has been caged up too long. Your body has a fluidity I haven’t seen in years.”
    Breathlessly, Diana said, “If I weren’t wearing this restrictive corset, I could really dance!”
    Dame Lightfoot was silent for another minute, then she said, “Why don’t we both remove our corsets? Mine is killing me! You can use that dressing room over there.”
    A surprised Diana was not loath to do the dame’s bidding. Inside the dressing room, Diana’s eyes widened. Dozens of costumes were hanging on racks. Every color and material the mind could conjure was there, some sequined, some feathered. Diana reached out a hand to caress the irresistible creations, thinking they were dance attire or stage costumes for some theatre. Perhaps Dame Lightfoot was not the old martinet she had thought.
    Diana removed her corset, then slipped back into hergown. She had always longed to make herself a costume; perhaps Dame Lightfoot could help.
    It was Diana’s turn to pause upon the threshold. The dragon no longer resembled a dragon. She had removed the iron-gray wig to reveal jet-black curls, and now that her corset was removed, her breasts were voluptuous. In fact she no longer looked old. Diana decided she wasn’t young either; what she looked was ageless. “Dame Lightfoot—”
    “Oh please, call me Allegra.”
    Diana blinked. Even her voice had taken on a provocative, throaty quality. “Allegra is a beautiful name, cleverly adapted from a musical term.”
    “Indeed. All my intimates call me Allegra.”
    “The costumes in the dressing room fascinate me!”
    “Try one on,” Allegra urged.
    “Oh, I shall, thank you. I’ll try them all, if I may. But I’ve been toying with the idea of creating my own. Would you help me?”
    “I should be delighted. What strikes your fancy?”
    “Diana, Goddess of the Hunt.”
    “But of course! And what a perfect Diana you will make.”
    “I picture a white tunic that bares one shoulder,” Diana said with much daring, although the goddess would probably have bared one breast.
    “Short also,” Allegra agreed, “to show off your lovely long legs.”
    “A golden bow and arrow,” Diana added with enthusiasm.
    “And gilt sandals with golden ribbons to crisscross up your calves, and your own glorious golden hair, unpowdered, to cascade down your back.”
    “Golden amulets on my upper arms,” Diana added, carried away by the picture they were creating.
    Allegra, her head on one side to observe the beautiful girl, alive with animated enthusiasm, said thoughtfully,“The new Pantheon in Oxford Street is to be opened by a masquerade ball. How would you like to attend?”
    “I should love it, but of course it’s out of the question. Prudence would think it far too worldly for an unmarried lady.”
    “Mmm,” was all Allegra murmured.
    “But I’d still like the costume,” Diana insisted.
    “Well, let’s teach you the steps to all the dances this afternoon, then tomorrow when you come we can devote the afternoon to creating the huntress!”
    Diana had such an enjoyable time at Allegra’s the following day, she regretted she could not also go on Wednesday. But Wednesdays from now on would be devoted to that holy shrine of the ton known as Almack’s.
    Prudence chose a gown in the fashionable shade called pomona, an apple green taffeta that emphasized her embonpoint. She beamed such approval at her niece’s appearance, it made Diana doubt her attraction. This was her first ball gown and the corset and three petticoats made it feel most restrictive. Prudence had let her make the final choice of color.
Fat choice, allowing me to choose between prissy pink and baby blue,
thought Diana. The gown had a high neckline with rows of tiny frills covering the entire yoke. How ironic that the corset flattened her breasts to such