The Earl's Runaway Bride. Sarah Mallory

of Lady Preston’s masquerade, when she accompanied Lydia on another of her shopping sprees. This included the purchase of a pair of scarlet stockings, which Lydia presented to her friend.

      ‘What on earth would I want with these?’ asked Felicity, laughing.

      ‘They will add the finishing touch to your costume this evening.’

      ‘What are you planning for me, Lydia? Do tell!’

      But Lady Souden merely looked mysterious and bade her to wait until the evening.

      ‘How fortunate that dear James could not dine with us tonight,’ remarked Lydia as she took Felicity upstairs to her apartment. ‘I can help you to dress without fear that he will want to know what we are doing.’

      ‘I am becoming mighty anxious about this myself,’ said Felicity as she followed her hostess into the white-and-rose dressing room. ‘The thought of those scarlet stockings is quite alarming.’

      Lydia giggled. ‘Nonsense, they are just right!’ She smiled at her maid, who was standing beside an open trunk. ‘Well, Janet, have you put everything ready, as I instructed?’

      ‘Aye, m’lady.’ She reached into the trunk and with a rustle of tissue paper she pulled forth a gown. Felicity stared.

      ‘Lydia,’ she breathed, ‘I couldn’t…can you not find me a plain domino? That is all I require…’

      ‘Nonsense, you will look wonderful in this. We are very much of a height, so it will fit you very well. I would wear it myself but…’ Lydia smiled and placed her hands on her waist ‘…I would not look my best in it this year.’

      Felicity looked again at the gown the maid was holding up for her inspection. It was a heavy brocade gown with full skirts and a narrow, boned bodice, but it was not the old style that made Felicity’s eyes widen. It was the colour. The gown was a vividly patterned scarlet-and-black, trimmed with black lace.

      ‘Begging your pardon, my lady, but I am not sure this is a suitable gown for Miss Brown,’ offered Janet, eyeing the gown doubtfully.

      ‘Pho, it is for a wager,’ Lydia responded in an airy tone. ‘Come now, we must help Miss Brown to dress. Quickly, Janet, for there is much to do.’

      Felicity submitted meekly to their ministrations. Soon her light, flowing muslin gown had been replaced by pads and hoops and petticoats. She gasped as Janet tugged on the laces of her bodice, fitting it tightly into the curve of her waist. When Lydia sent the maid off to pack away her discarded clothes, Felicity gave a little whimper.

      ‘I can scarce breathe.’ She regarded herself in the mirror. The tight bodice emphasised her tiny waist and the creamy swell of her breasts above the low neckline. As she raised one hand to her throat the black lace ruffles fell back softly from her white arm. ‘Oh dear, Janet is right: I should not be wearing this.’

      ‘You want to dance with Rosthorne, do you not?’ said Lydia, eminently practical. ‘Trust me, he will not be able to resist you in this gown.’ She sighed, a faraway look creeping into her eyes. ‘The modiste named this gown “Temptation”. I remember when I wore it: James could not take his eyes off me.’ Lydia gave another sigh, but as her handmaid came back into the room she recollected herself and said in a very businesslike tone, ‘Now for the headdress. Sit down here, my love, while Janet helps me.’

      A heavy black wig was fitted over Felicity’s soft gold-brown hair and she watched in some consternation as Janet pulled up a side table and began to set out a frightening array of powders and paints.

      ‘Is this really necessary?’ protested Felicity. ‘I am sure—’

      ‘Hush,’ Lydia told her. ‘You must look the part.’

      ‘Why, ’tis no more than a little powder, miss,’ said Janet. ‘Thirty years ago no lady would ever leave her room without painting her face as white as snow.’

      ‘And what is that you are putting on my eyes?’

      ‘Nothing more than a little burnt cork, miss.’

      And so it went on. Felicity stared ahead of her as Lydia and her maid worked their transformation. The daylight faded and was replaced by the soft glow of candles before the maid began to pack away the little pots and brushes.

      ‘Can I look in the mirror now?’

      ‘Just a few more touches,’ said Lydia.

      She handed Felicity a length of black ribbon embroidered with gold thread.

      ‘To tie up your stockings, of course,’she said in answer to Felicity’s questioning look. ‘And finally, these.’

      She produced a square leather jewel case and lifted from it a heavy ruby necklace. ‘This belonged to my grandmother, but no one wears such things now. There…and the ear-drops…well—’ she caught Felicity’s hands and pulled her up to stand before the long glass ‘—what do you think of yourself?’

      For a long, silent moment Felicity gazed at her reflection. A strange, exotic creature stared back at her. A dark-haired stranger with white skin and light grey eyes framed by long dark lashes.

      ‘Well?’ said Lydia again.

      ‘Even I do not recognise myself.’ Even as she spoke her eyes were fixed upon her mouth: plump, sensuously curving lips painted a vivid red contrasted with the whiteness of her skin.

      Lydia gave a little crow of laughter. ‘That is precisely what we want!’ She handed Felicity a mask, a black-and-gold creation with long black ribbons to fasten around her headdress. ‘Now, you are to sit down and keep still while Janet helps me into my dress. Tonight I shall be Aphrodite, the goddess of love.’ She gave her friend a mischievous smile. ‘Quite appropriate, do you not agree? Goodness, look at the hour! We must be quick, Janet, Sir James will be here any minute and we cannot risk him coming upstairs and finding Miss Brown dressed like this!’

      The maid’s head shot up. ‘Sir James doesn’t know that Miss Brown is attending—?’

      Lydia shushed her maid and waved an impatient hand. ‘I told you it is for a wager. Now not another word from you, Janet, and make haste to help me into my costume!’

      Lydia was giving her golden curls a final pat when word arrived that Sir James was waiting below.

      ‘I must go,’ she said. ‘I have given instructions for your coach to be at the door for you in half an hour. Janet has looked out a domino for you, so your costume will be completely concealed when you leave here.’ She gave her friend a final hug. ‘Do take care, Fee. I will be sure to keep James away from you tonight.’

      ‘Are you afraid he might recognise me?’

      Lydia picked up her mask. ‘No,’ she said, going to the door. ‘I am afraid he might find you too, too attractive.’