How to Beguile a Beauty. Кейси Майклс

that’s a fact.”

      The door to the hallway opened and Charlotte entered, carrying a dark blue velvet case. “Tanner’s waiting, Lydia, but I just remembered that Nicole had asked me to be certain to please lend you my sapphires if you were to wear the—oh, my.”

      Sarah curtsied, beaming. “Yes, Your Grace. Just as I was telling her. Fits her a treat, don’t it?”

      “A treat? Yes, I can see where that word comes first to mind,” Charlotte said rather tongue-in-cheek, approaching Lydia and then walking fully around her. “You may go, Sarah, thank you.”

      “Oh, but I want her to—”

      “Lydia, let her go. You look beautiful. You are beautiful.”

      Would nobody listen to her? Couldn’t they see what she saw? “I’m…I’m hanging out, just like Mama!”

      Charlotte giggled. “Darling, your mama would sacrifice an entire herd of goats to look like you do tonight. But, yes, the resemblance is rather startling. And Helen Daughtry was, and still is, an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Your beauty, however, is more refined. Which doesn’t mean that you should hide it.”

      “I don’t think it means that I should flaunt—do you really think the gown is, well, proper?”

      Charlotte opened the velvet case and withdrew a stunning diamond and sapphire necklace. “Proper is perhaps not the word I’d use. Not precisely, no. I would rather say the gown is stunning. Interesting. Even captivating. Everything that you are, Lydia, whether you wish to acknowledge that fact or not. Now, turn around and bend your knees, so I can clasp this piece around your neck. You won’t feel half so naked once it’s on.”

      Lydia did as she was bid, albeit reluctantly. She was just so used to doing what other people said. But then she rallied, and stood straight once more. “You said it, Charlotte. You said naked. And that’s how I feel. And from what Sarah was grinning and mumbling about, I’m woefully certain Nicole has had all of my gowns altered this way. The mischief that lives in that girl’s head!”

      ‘I’m sure she had all the best of intentions.”

      Lydia very nearly snorted. “Yes, the best of intentions. That’s what she said she had when we were seven, and she decided to save our shared maid the trouble of trimming my bangs. Granted, I was silly enough to believe she knew what she was doing. I had to wear caps for a month. What is it about my sister and scissors?”

      “I wouldn’t know. Just bend your knees again, sweetheart, and let us see if the necklace makes you feel less—that is, more finished.”

      Lydia felt the weight of the necklace and looked down to see that the largest sapphire, completely surrounded by diamonds and fashioned as a drop, now slid rather interestingly between the cleavage exposed by the neckline of the gown. As if that could make up for that same, truly outrageous neckline.

      Charlotte nudged her toward the full-length mirror that stood in one corner of the room. “There,” she said rather smugly, “now how do you feel? Because you look wonderful. There are earrings as well, but I think they’d be too much for such a young, unmarried woman. Besides, look at your eyes, Lydia. They’re so blue they look like twin ponds on a clear, sunlight day. Dazzling. When Rafe sees you I’ll have to hold him back or else he’ll confine you to your room, even though you’re well within the bounds of propriety. Tanner, on the other hand, will be most appreciative, I’m sure.”

      Lydia opened her mouth to ask if Tanner would be appreciative because men were basically lecherous, but quickly decided that neither Charlotte nor Rafe would allow her within fifty yards of a lech…or fifty inches from Grosvenor Square if either of them thought the gown too outrageous.

      “I do feel…rather nice,” she admitted finally. “And more…confident, if that doesn’t sound silly.”

      “It doesn’t. Now come along, Tanner is waiting. Along with his cousin, who seems a very lovely young woman, if prone to talking so much I wouldn’t be surprised to see that Rafe’s ears have quite fallen off his head by the time we get down to the drawing room.”

      “She’s pretty, isn’t she? Jasmine Harburton, I mean. The cousin.”

      “I would say beautiful, but a man sees such things differently. I’ll have to ask Rafe’s opinion, once his ears stop ringing,” Charlotte said with a smile. “Don’t forget your gloves.”

      Lydia wanted to take one more peek at her reflection, as she still wasn’t quite sure who she had been looking at, but tamped down the urge, for it seemed indulgent, and perhaps even vain. She picked up her elbow-length gloves, pulling them on as she followed Charlotte toward the stairs, working the soft white kid over each finger, wondering idly why fashion had decreed that a female’s circulation be all but cut off in the pursuit of fashion.

      She was just smoothing the kid over her left thumb when they reached the bottom of the stairs and she heard a sharp intake of breath and an awe-filled “Coo…” coming from one of the footmen.

      Perhaps Nicole had been more right than Lydia would have guessed.

      Buoyed by the footman’s involuntary flattery, she entered the drawing room, her confident step carrying her along very well, thank you, until she saw the faintly incredulous expression come and go on Tanner’s face as he stood at the mantelpiece, staring at her.

      She resisted the urge to cross her hands over her bosom, and turned her attention to the dark-haired beauty just then getting to her feet so that she could curtsey to the newcomers.

      Tanner stepped forward to make the introductions.

      “I cannot tell you, Lady Lydia, how honored I am to make your acquaintance,” Jasmine said the moment the introductions were completed. “How delightful it will be to have company once we are through that depressingly long line waiting for our hostess to vet us, and we’re set loose into the ballroom like so many prisoners freed from the confines of their cells, only to find that they are now only in a larger prison, which is how I see ballrooms, and waiting to be rescued from the wallflowers by some gentleman who then assumes we are so flattered by his attention that, of course, we will want nothing more than to listen to him brag about himself and his prospects or even the cut of his waistcoat for the length of the dance. Don’t you think?”

      Lydia, her mouth falling open unbidden, looked to Charlotte, who was busily examining her fingernails, and then to Rafe, who appeared ready to rip off his cravat and stuff it in Miss Harburton’s mouth.

      “Um…” Lydia said at last, “yes, I agree?”

      “Good, it’s safer,” Tanner whispered in her ear, as he’d somehow managed to be standing next to her. “Let me tell you now, Lydia, that you have never looked more beautiful. I say that because it’s true, and because I doubt either of us will get another word in edgewise between here and Lady Chalfont’s. Shall we go?”

      Tanner’s words proved prophetic, for Jasmine talked nonstop all the way to Portland Place, all the time they were stalled on the stairs leading up into the ballroom, and she continued to talk as they were at last inside the cavernous ballroom and heading for the inevitable lines of chairs stuck against the long walls.

      “You must need something to drink, Jasmine,” Tanner said once he had secured them seats, including one for the chaperone, Mrs. Shandy, a nearly stone deaf woman who had no idea how fortunate she was in her affliction. “Lydia?”

      “Yes, please,” she said, although not before wondering if she would be too obvious if she’d fallen to her knees and begged him not to leave her with this sweet but incessant chatterbox.

      “Oh, good,” Jasmine said with a heartfelt sigh once Tanner had gone off to find a servant with a tray of lemonade, and most probably something stronger for himself. “I’m so unconscionably nervous whenever Tanner is about. And then I prattle and prattle and my tongue runs on wheels, and I hear myself saying the most inane and silly things and I can’t