LITMIR.BIZ

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repeated in automatic anxiety.

      “We’ve had the whole neighborhood asking after young Kit and praying with us for his recovery. ‘Tis only fitting that all have the chance to help our distinguished visitors celebrate the good news before their departure.”

      “If ‘tis to be a large party, then you’ll surely not need me. It will make the numbers wrong,” Laura offered.

      “Pish-tosh, Mrs. Martin.” The squire waved away the suggestion. “‘Tis not some fancy London party, all standing on precedence. And you need not feel shy. Excepting the earl, Lady Elspeth and the good doctor, ‘twill be only neighbors you’ve dined with on several occasions. Oh, and Lady Ardith and Lord Asquith.”

      Laura looked at the smiling faces—the squire, the doctor, Lady Elspeth. Some inner imperative told her to accept would be dangerous, possibly the most dangerous thing she’d done since coming to the aid of the earl’s wounded brother. But as she had no reason to fear any of her neighbors—even the conceited London beauty Lady Ardith, who scarcely acknowledged her existence—Laura could dredge up no excuse to avoid the party that would not either cause offense or give rise to speculation.

      Surely the earl would be present, too. The thought shimmered through her, adding to both her longing and dismay. Still, she didn’t see how she could avoid this. “You are vastly kind. I shall accept with pleasure.”

      “Oh—m’sister may call upon you to write out the invitations. Her failing eyesight, you know. If that won’t be too much of an imposition?”

      Laura had to smile. Lady Winters, an indolent damsel of some seventy summers, had previously called on Laura to assist her after suffering palpitations at the mere prospect of the work entailed by an evening party. “You may assure your sister I shall be happy to assist her.”

      “Good, good.” The squire patted her hand. “Knew we could count on you. Want to send the doctor off with a good proper party, and with you overseeing the arrangements, I know ‘twill be top of the trees.”

      Though Lady Elspeth, bless her, objected it was not quite right that Laura toil on a party given partly in her own honor, she desisted when Laura assured her that she didn’t mind in the least. Thanking the group again, Laura returned to her room.

      It was only ingrained caution that made her so uneasy. All the guests would be well known to her. Besides, if she handled the arrangements for Lady Winters, she could arrange the dinner partners to suit herself, make a brief appearance in the parlor after the meal, then excuse herself before tea.

      Thinking of the guest list again, she had to laugh at her apprehensions. With Lady Ardith promised to appear, no one would give the dowdy Mrs. Martin a second glance.

      Late the following afternoon, Laura was returning to her room after going over the party lists with Lady Emily when Lady Elspeth hailed her in the hallway. “Please, could you join me for some tea in my sitting room before you rest for tonight? Being reduced to the company of the squire, Lady Winters and my brother at dinner, I sorely miss the conversation of a rational lady.”

      Having on occasion been constrained to be the rambling Lady Emily’s dinner partner, Laura could sympathize. And after a few day’s acquaintance, Laura had largely lost her reserve around Lady Elspeth. Here was a friend in truth, one who, even should she learn of Laura’s deception—not that she ever intended to reveal it—would not, Laura felt sure, betray her. And she sincerely enjoyed the company of the earl’s charming, cheerful sister.

      “I should be delighted.”

      Laura entered to take the seat indicated on the brocade flowered sofa while Lady Elspeth poured tea. After handing her a cup, her friend gave her a measuring glance.

      “I happened to notice that, though you agreed to help Lady Winters, you didn’t seem particularly pleased to accept the squire’s invitation to dine.”

      Laura sighed. “I’m afraid I’m painfully shy in company, a fault I’ve never managed to overcome.”

      “Please don’t be offended, but do you hesitate for fear that, with the very fashionable Lady Ardith attending, you feel you do not possess a suitable gown?”

      Laura laughed. “I certainly possess nothing cut up—or should we say ‘down’—to Lady Ardith’s standards.” “I should hope not,” Lady Elspeth agreed with a chuckle. “But I wanted to ask a favor. I brought with me a new dinner gown just received from the mantuamaker that I’ve never worn, and now I find I cannot. If God wills, and I carry this child, by the time I visit London again fashions will have changed. Though I hope I’m not as vain as Lady Ardith, I doubt I’d wear it then. The color is a lovely green, and would suit you. Would you accept it?

      “Please, now—” she held up a hand to forestall Laura’s protest “—don’t refuse outright. You know I won’t insult you by offering payment for the care you gave Kit. Indeed, were I the richest woman in the universe, how could I ever pay you the worth of my baby brother’s life? Beside that, a gown is the merest trifle. Still, it is too lovely to waste, and it would please me to have you wear it.”

      Though she didn’t doubt Lady Elspeth’s sincerity or kindness, Laura wasn’t naive enough to believe this offer a coincidence. With a rueful grimace, she wondered who had whispered in her friend’s ear. Lady Catherine, wanting “beautiful dresses” for her friend? Or Lord Beaulieu?

      As she hesitated, Lady Elspeth misinterpreted her silence. “What a widget! Of course you can’t decide until you see the gown. I’ll have Jane bring it immediately!” Laura tried to protest, but Lady Elspeth had already rung for her maid. Instructions were given, and by the time they finished their tea, the maid reappeared, bearing the dress. The demurral Laura intended to voice died in an inarticulate cry of wonder.

      It was simply the most delicate, wondrous, lovely gown she’d ever beheld, a simple sheath of pale green silk whose wispy sleeves and long train were covered with a fairy’s cobweb of fine lace. Not even in her debut season had she, limited to the whites and pastels prescribed for unmarried maidens, possessed such a dress.

      Before she could muster her scattered thoughts to protest, Lady Elspeth had her on her feet, the maid holding the dress up to her as her friend gave instructions on where to pin, tuck or adjust.

      “Ah, Ellie—it’s marvelous! But I simply couldn’t!”

      “Since it’s rather obvious you like the gown—” Elspeth paused in her instructions to grin at Laura “—and it becomes you wonderfully, I shall be most hurt if you refuse it.”

      The sober, responsible, cautious side of her urged that she do just that. But the woman in her slid the sensuous length of silk through her fingers, felt the sigh of lace against her arms, and knew she could never bring herself to turn this down. For one evening, like Cinderella in the fairy tale, plain, dowdy, shy little Laura Martin would be dressed like a princess.

      And her Prince Charming, whom she might covertly watch and desire but never possess, would see her in it.

      Even in a small gathering, wearing such a beautifully made gown would be sure to draw to her the universal attention of every lady present, and probably that of the gentlemen, as well. Inviting precisely the sort of widespread scrutiny she’d spent nearly three years carefully avoiding. Attending in that gown would be foolish, vain and most unwise.

      And she would do it. If her benefactress were present, of course.

      “You’re sure you will be feeling well enough to attend the party?” Laura asked, grasping at straws.

      Lady Elspeth’s smile widened. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

       Chapter Nine

      “Thank you, Jane. I can manage from here.”

      “Aye, ma’am. A right treasure you look, and so I’ll

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