Название | The Countess Misbehaves |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Nan Ryan |
Жанр | Зарубежные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474024426 |
Her eyes on the cream satin bed hangings above, she exhaled heavily and stretched her long, slender legs, wiggling her toes, ordering herself to think only of Desmond and their wonderful future together.
She assumed that her fiancé was home by now. He lived only a few short blocks away. He was probably having a nightcap before bed.
The weather finally turned.
The damp, sticky heat of summer gave way to clear, brisk autumn air. The mosquitoes subsided and a cool breeze blew in off the river.
On a chilly evening in early October, Lady Madeleine was extraordinarily excited. She was to attend, with her tall blond earl, the first masked ball of the season. She was in high spirits. Memories and regrets had begun to fade. The dark, handsome face that had haunted her dreams was less clear. It blurred. She couldn’t recall exactly what Armand de Chevalier looked like.
And she vowed to herself that she would be a faithful, loving wife to Lord Enfield and never look at another man for as long as she lived.
Now as she finished dressing for the momentous occasion, Madeleine smiled as she gazed at herself in the mirror. She had kept her choice of costumes a secret, except from Avalina, who was helping her dress. She was going to the ball as Shakespeare’s tragic heroine, Juliet. Biting her lips to give them color, Madeleine idly wondered, would the earl guess and show up dressed as her Romeo?
At shortly after 8:00 p.m., a cortege of carriages rolled up before the French Quarter’s grand St. Louis Hotel. The hotel’s façade boasted no outthrust portico, but instead a line of six graceful columns. In the New Orleans tradition, intricate iron-work galleries opened before the outer rooms. The structure was impressive in every way, but a large domed rotunda was the hotel’s real marvel.
The imposing Creole hotel was the center of the city’s French business, entertainment and cultural district. It was here that throngs attended the bals de société, subscription affairs given by the aristocratic Creoles.
On this evening, gorgeously costumed ladies and gentlemen alighted from gleaming coaches and hurried inside and through the rotunda. Beautiful milky-skinned, dark-eyed Creole belles clung to the arms of the city’s gay handsome blades.
This glittering gala in the hotel’s opulent ballroom was one of the season’s major affairs, attended by the city’s elite. Bowers of fresh-cut flowers sweetened the air. French champagne flowed freely. An orchestra, in full evening dress, played waltzes.
And Lady Madeleine, in a flowing gown of virginal white chiffon, her russet hair hidden beneath the long conical hennan headdress with shimmering white silk streamers trailing from its tip, wore an elaborate mask adorned with semiprecious jewels. She fairly glowed as she turned about on the dance floor in Lord Enfield’s arms. Her fiancé was dressed as Robin Hood.
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