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parties until they went to Brighton in two weeks’ time and had to suffer the ignominy of not being allowed out at all without her mother’s escort.

      ‘I do not understand it, I really do not,’ Mr Fulgrave said, more in sorrow than in anger. ‘At your age dear Grace was married with her first child and was mistress of a large household, while you are behaving like a hoyden of seventeen who knows no better. Lord Clifton will not contain his impatience for much longer my girl, and if these disgraceful exploits come to his attention he will withdraw his suit in disgust.’

      Alone in her bedroom Joanna considered these strictures with little sense of remorse. She felt too numb to really care, although the hope that she would drive away Rufus Carstairs gave her a glimmer of pleasure. But disappointingly a course of dissipation did not seem to provide the distraction from the circling thoughts of Giles that she had hoped. Still, it was at least more stimulating than meekly withering into an old maid, which seemed the only alternative to an unwanted marriage.

      Nothing, therefore, deterred Joanna from her plans for that evening, which involved leaving the house by the back door after she was supposed to be asleep and meeting her old acquaintance Catherine Marcus. Mrs Marcus, once plain Kate Hampton and now a rich young matron, had informed Joanna three evenings before when they met at a reception that she was getting up a party to attend the masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens. Her dear Joanna, she was sure, would thoroughly enjoy it.

      Mama did not approve of Mrs Marcus, whom she considered to be fast and flighty, but, as far as she knew, she and Joanna had never been close at and she was therefore unlikely to lead her daughter astray. The thought that their reacquaintance would involve an expedition to Vauxhall for a masquerade, an activity entirely beyond the pale as far as Mrs Fulgrave was concerned, was inconceivable.

      Her mask dangling from its ribbons in one hand, the other clutching her blue domino tightly around her, Joanna made her escape and was picked up by the Marcuses’ coach without mishap at the appointed place. No one, she congratulated herself, would know and she had always wanted to experience a masquerade. In the flickering light her friend did not notice the shadows under her eyes and the party set off full of high spirits.

       Chapter Three

      Vauxhall Gardens seemed an enchanted dream to Joanna. Lights in their thousand twinkled amid the branches and framed pavilions and kiosks in a magical glow. Every twist and turn in the paths opened on to new vistas crowded with party-goers; music and laughter filled the air and Mrs Marcus’s party spent the first hour simply strolling, watching the passing throng and revelling in the strange feeling of safety their masks produced.

      Mrs Marcus had invited a large group of friends and, although all the young ladies seemed to Joanna to be startling free and easy and the men escorting them more than a little inclined to take advantage of whatever flirtation was on offer, she felt quite comfortable in the company. Everyone seemed to behave towards her as befitted her unmarried status and she rather suspected that Kate had had a quiet word with her friends about their inexperienced new acquaintance.

      Joanna firmly refused the offer of a glass of champagne when they retired to a kiosk for shaved ham and other trifles before joining the dancing; as everyone else became gayer and more light-headed, she retained a perfectly level-headed awareness of everything going on around her. Things were certainly becoming a trifle warm but, although she realised her mama would faint away at the sights her younger daughter was coolly observing, she felt only an amused curiosity.

      However, she rapidly regretted allowing herself to be taken out on to the dance floor by one young gentleman who proved to be either a very inept dancer or perhaps simply an inebriated one.

      ‘No, no, it is quite all right,’ she protested lightly for the third time as he trod on her toe during the boulanger. ‘So crowded, is it not? Oh!’ His foot found her hem and half dragged the domino from her shoulder. Joanna pulled it back, found she had lost the ties securing it at her neck and that she could not see to untangle the ribbons whilst wearing her mask. ‘Oh dear, can we just go to the side of the dance floor?’ Her partner, apologising profusely at his carelessness, guided her out of the throng and stood by, helpfully holding her mask while Joanna adjusted her cloak.

      ‘Would you like to dance again?’ he asked as he handed back the black satin mask.

      ‘And have her toes completely bruised? I think not, young man.’ Lord Clifton appeared at her side, masked, but with his unmistakable blue eyes glittering through the slits. ‘May I offer you my escort home, Miss Fulgrave?’ He turned abruptly to her partner, who took a step back. ‘We need keep you no longer, sir.’

      ‘Yes, thank you for the dance, sir,’ Joanna said hastily. He seemed inclined to square up belligerently to the interloper and she added pacifically, ‘It is quite all right, I know this gentlemen.’

      The young man took himself off with an affronted bow. ‘Would you be so good as to escort me back to my hostess, my lord? She is over there.’ Joanna forced herself to speak calmly and pleasantly, although her mind was racing. She could hardly make a scene here.

      ‘The fast young lady in the pink domino? Not, I am sure, a hostess your mama would approve of, Joanna.’ He took her arm and began to steer her away from the Marcus party. ‘And where exactly does your mama believe you to be at this moment?’ Joanna knew she was colouring, but could not help it. ‘Ah, blamelessly in your bed. I think we had better return you there.’

      ‘No! I cannot simply walk away from Mrs Marcus like that.’ But from the set of his mouth and the very firm grip on her arm she knew that, short of screaming and struggling, she was going to do just as Rufus told her. ‘I must at least thank her and say goodbye or she will worry.’

      ‘Very well.’ She could feel his eyes on her set face and she tried to look as happy as possible before they reached her party. ‘Do not sulk, Joanna, it does not suit you. Think what a disillusion it is for me to find my perfect bride-to-be in such company.’

      ‘I am not your bride-to-be!’ She broke off abruptly at the appearance in front of them of a tall figure in a black domino, a petite blue-clad figure on his arm.

      ‘Joanna!’ It was unmistakably Giles, and she realised with a shock that she had not replaced her mask. She fumbled it back into place, unable to meet his eyes. ‘Are you in any difficulties, Miss Fulgrave?’

      ‘No! No, none at all, just rather flustered by the crowd, Colonel, thank you. I was just about to leave. Goodnight.’ From being his captive, she almost towed Rufus after her towards Mrs Marcus, leaving Giles Gregory staring at their retreating backs.

      ‘What the…who was that she was with, I wonder?’

      ‘Oh, that was Rufus Carstairs,’ his companion said confidently. ‘Lord Clifton, you know. I would know those eyes anywhere. Frightfully eligible, but he makes my flesh creep. Well, the perfect Miss Fulgrave is behaving badly, is she not?’

      Giles Gregory looked down at her. ‘Just as badly as you, Suzy, you little witch. Now, come along and let us get home or your papa will cut off your dress allowance and take a horsewhip to me.’

      She laughed. ‘Not when I tell him you came to rescue me, Giles darling.’

      ‘As well you knew I would, you baggage, considering you left me a note!’ he said affectionately. ‘Now, do any of your errant girlfriends need an escort as well?’ He firmly walked her away from the dancing, but his eyes were scanning the crowd for the tall girl in the blue domino.

      Joanna sat in the furthest corner of the earl’s carriage apprehensively expecting him to try and kiss her, but to her relief he made no attempt to do so as they rattled over the cobbles and through the nighttime streets.

      Flambeaux outside town houses cast a flickering light into the interior and she saw he appeared to be thinking. Eventually, unable to stand the silence any more, she said, ‘I hope I do not take you away from your own party this evening?’

      ‘Hmm? No, not at

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