A Debutante In Disguise. Eleanor Webster

visit your sister-in-law.’

      ‘Good gracious, I didn’t know I was!’ Sarah sat rather heavily, propping her head on her elbows, too tired to stay erect.

      ‘It is the fourteenth and your mother and Mrs Barton invited you weeks ago—most specific she was.’

      Letty groaned. She loved Flo. She owed both Flo and her brother everything. She would never have been able to register at Guy’s Hospital without her brother’s help. Certainly, her mother would never have allowed her to live in London if Flo had not offered her accommodation. Nor would she have pulled off her peculiar double life without Flo’s ingenious excuses.

      However, the garden party would doubtless involve her mother.

      Letty was a tremendous disappointment to Mrs Barton. Indeed, her mother would have disowned her except she feared it would cause talk. Mrs Barton hated to be the topic of ‘talk’. Besides, Ramsey had convinced one of his more aristocratic friends to provide some mumbo-jumbo about the upper classes adoring eccentricity.

      Living alone in her little stone house was certainly eccentric.

      Not that Mrs Barton knew about the doctoring. Letty smiled grimly. That information would doubtless have sent Mrs Barton into a decline or given her fits. Indeed, the fact that Letty had wasted almost two years in London without finding a husband was sufficiently dreadful.

      ‘I suppose I must go,’’ Letty said, her head sinking lower.

      ‘A failure to show might result in a visit from the elder Mrs Barton.’

      Letty groaned. ‘I’d best avoid that.’

      ‘Indeed,’ Sarah agreed.

      ‘Give me an hour to sleep,’ she instructed. ‘Then get me up for this flower party.’

      ‘Garden party, I believe, miss.’

      * * *

      As expected, her mother’s influence was clearly visible and nothing had been done by half-measures. Liveried servants lined the flagstone path leading towards the comfortable brick façade of Letty’s childhood home. The box trees now resembled African animals and the ornamental fountain frothed and burbled. The flower beds were colourful perfection, the dark soil freshly turned, the weeds removed and a statue of a lion placed in the very centre of the rose garden.

      A huge tent stood on the emerald lawn. Long tables covered in white linen extended from its shadows, laden with food, drink, silver cutlery and crystal stemware. Meanwhile colourful groupings of the local gentry and other notables chattered, protecting their pale complexions under ruffled sunshades in pastel hues.

      Letty frowned. What was the point of a garden party if one erected a house and hid from the sun?

      Just then, she saw her mother. Mrs Barton was not as tall as Letty, but was still slim. She had been talking with several ladies close to the box tree giraffe, but stepped forward on seeing her daughter.

      ‘I am glad you are here and on time,’ she said, with a bob of her white parasol as she presented her cheek for a kiss. She looked well. She had Letty’s pale skin and reddish hair, but her locks had a pleasant auburn shade, threaded with a few strands of grey, as opposed to Letty’s more vibrant hue.

      Letty tried to think of a suitable but truthful response. She couldn’t really say that she was glad to be here. In reality, there were any number of places she would have preferred to be.

      ‘I am glad you are happy,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I wonder if there is not a connection between one’s physical health and one’s emotions.’

      Her mother’s forehead puckered, as though uncertain how best to take that statement. ‘Well, never mind all that. And where is your sunshade? You know how dreadfully you freckle. And why must you insist on wearing such dull shades?’

      ‘Likely a reaction to the overly bright hues of my youth,’ Letty murmured.

      ‘But grey? It is such a raincloud of a colour.’

      ‘But serviceable.’

      ‘Which you would not need to worry about if you had not decided to waste money buying a house. I am quite certain your father did not intend for you to fritter your inheritance.’

      ‘The purchase of a house hardly seems frivolous.’

      ‘It is when you could stay with me at the Dower House or with dear Flo and your brother. Well, no matter—I have a gentleman I particularly wanted to introduce—’

      At that moment, Flo, or Florence, approached, her smile wide and genuine. ‘But first, Lord Jephson is here and I absolutely promised him an introduction. He wanted to meet you as he has a lively interest in humours. You do not mind, do you, Mama?’

      She addressed this last statement to Mrs Barton while expertly steering Letty towards the house.

      ‘Humours! You know science has moved beyond humours. And who is Lord Jephson?’ Letty asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

      ‘A rich lord without a wife which will absolutely thrill your mother. But don’t worry, I don’t think he has any interest in acquiring a wife. Besides, I wouldn’t do that to you. Ramsey is in his study and will be so delighted to see you. He says you are the only person outside of London able to provide intelligent discourse—’

      Just at that moment, a disturbance occurred beside one of the long tables and both Letty and Flo turned abruptly.

      ‘Good gracious.’ Flo lifted her skirts so that she could move with greater efficiency. ‘I think someone has collapsed or fallen.’

      Letty hurried after her sister-in-law. Quite near to the tent, a cluster of women encircled a young female reclining on the grass. The woman wore black, but looked to be young with fashionable blonde curls peaking from under a dark bonnet.

      ‘Do not crowd her,’ Letty directed.

      ‘Really, I can get up,’ the young woman said, struggling to stand.

      ‘A fallacy. You are as white as a sheet and look ready to swoon again.’ Letty pushed through the bystanders, kneeling beside the young woman, instinctively reaching for her wrist to feel for a pulse. ‘Give yourself a moment. You are likely still dizzy and—’

      Before she could complete this sentence, a second wave of interest coursed through the group of onlookers. A tall man approached, striding from the house, his gait uneven. From her kneeling position, the newcomer’s height was extenuated, his broad shoulders all but blocking the sun so that his size appeared superhuman, like Zeus or Neptune.

      ‘Elsie? What happened?’ His voice was harsh. ‘Are you in pain?’

      ‘No, I just went dizzy with the heat. Really, I am quite fine now.’ The young woman again tried to rise. Two splotches of colour appeared on her otherwise pale cheeks. Her skin looked damp with perspiration. Letty saw miniature beads of moisture along her upper lip and forehead. Moreover, her face had a fullness or puffiness which Letty did not like.

      ‘I disagree,’ she said, releasing her wrist. ‘Your hands and face are bloated. I cannot accurately measure your pulse in present circumstances, but it seems too fast which could indicate a more serious condition.’

      ‘Young lady—’ The man addressed Letty sharply as he knelt also beside the prone woman. ‘Who are you? And why are you attempting to scare my sister witless?’

      Letty glanced at him. His face was still shadowed from the sun, but there was something arresting about him and she found herself momentarily bereft of breath.

      ‘I do not intend to alarm her,’ she said, her mouth peculiarly dry. ‘Merely to ensure that she seeks medical treatment.’

      ‘She is already under medical care.’

      ‘It doesn’t seem to have been entirely effective. I would advise further consultation.’

      ‘Thank