A Regency Lord's Command. Anne Herries

various ideas of what a witch or wizard should look like. Most of the men had chosen black and taken what could only be described as a medieval theme, wearing tight hose and tunics that fitted to the waist or fell in loose folds to mid-thigh, depending on their age and stature. The ladies were less adventurous, though several had dressed in flowing medieval style gowns similar to Jane’s. One lady had very long nails, which she had dyed with a green colour that looked very effective; some wore a velvet mask, and others had a pointed hat, which they soon discarded.

      Andrew Lanchester had come dressed as a medieval knight. He grinned at Lucinda as he saw that she was wearing a green-and-white gown with fronds, which fluttered like leaves of silk, hanging from an embroidered band beneath her breasts. On her head she wore a tiny skullcap of gold threads.

      ‘I think you must be the Queen of the elves,’ he said. ‘I am Sir Lancelot and I’ve come prepared to rescue any ladies in danger of being enchanted by these wicked wizards.’

      Lucinda laughed. ‘I am not sure that any ladies are in danger at the moment,’ she said. She glanced at her husband, who was wearing a green-velvet tunic that fitted into his waist and then flared out in little pleats, his tight-fitting hose in a matching shade. He had a little fringed cape of black silk and beads that fell in a point over one shoulder. Again it was the medieval style, but had something of an elfish look. ‘I am quite disappointed that no one dressed up as a troll to frighten us all.’

      ‘I doubt that anyone was certain of what a troll should look like,’ Andrew said. ‘I do not believe I have ever met one—what does a troll do, do you imagine?’

      ‘He or she lives under a bridge, eats rotten fruit, has exceedingly bad manners and is very aggressive,’ Lucinda replied laughingly.

      ‘Indeed?’ Andrew raised his right eyebrow. ‘I believe I have met one or two after all, but they do not appear to be here this evening. Clearly, you had the good sense not to invite them.’

      ‘Trolls need no invitation,’ Lucinda said. ‘Perhaps it is as well that they have decided to stay away.’

      The servants were circulating with trays and people helped themselves to glasses of champagne. To give the ball an atmosphere, Lucinda had asked the servants to hang banners of green-and-black silk, from which dangled little spiders, toads and black cats, which she had made herself from paper, ribbon and scraps of velvet. Justin had discovered a beautiful crystal ball, which had been set in the middle of a display of prickly holly, some white lilies and little dishes of biscuits in the shapes of witches, wizards, toads and black cats.

      Outside the ballroom there were lanterns hung in the trees and Lucinda had painted silhouettes of witches, wizards and black cats on the glass so that when it got dark they would throw shadows onto the lawns. There was to be a firework display at the end of the evening, which the gardeners had been busy setting up all day, and the guests would watch from the safety of the veranda.

      Lucinda and Justin opened the ball together. Everyone smiled and applauded them as they performed alone for a few minutes, then gradually other couples joined in and soon everyone was dancing. As soon as Justin released her, Lucinda was besieged by gentlemen wishing to dance with her.

      ‘This is a jolly fine evening, duchess,’ one rather portly gentleman told her. ‘These clothes are a deal more comfortable than the tight breeches they make us wear these days.’

      ‘You make an excellent wizard, Sir John,’ she said and smiled at her husband’s cousin. ‘I am so glad you are enjoying yourself.’

      ‘I can’t recall when I’ve enjoyed an evening more. Your decorations are enchanting—naïve and different. Justin tells me you did it all yourself?’

      ‘Yes, I thought it would be amusing. I copied the silhouettes from a children’s book I found in the nursery.’

      ‘Well, I like it better than some of these fancy affairs they hold in London where everything is so formal and professional—there is a bit of fun about what you’ve done, m’dear. Not enough of it about if you ask me. Justin is a lucky dog.’

      ‘How kind of you to say so, sir.’

      Since his remarks were more or less what everyone was saying, Lucinda felt relieved. She had not had time to send to London for professionally made decorations, but had enjoyed making them herself.

      ‘You were always good at drawing,’ Jane said when they spoke later. ‘I was thinking we might employ a designer for our Christmas ball this year, but I think I shall not bother. Perhaps you will help me decide on something pretty to decorate our ballroom?’

      ‘I shall be delighted to,’ Lucinda said and smiled as Andrew came towards them. ‘I was a little anxious—I did not know I was expected to have a theme until your brother mentioned it, but everything has turned out well.’

      ‘I believe this is our dance, Duchess?’

      ‘Yes, I believe it is,’ Lucinda said and offered her hand.

      It was their second dance that evening. Andrew had marked her card twice at the beginning and their first had been a waltz. This was a more lively country dance and she was soon laughing up at him as they threw themselves into the fun of it.

      She was enjoying herself and it was not until the end of their dance, when she left Andrew to circulate and make sure that all her guests were having a good time, that she noticed Justin staring at her.

      She inclined her head and smiled at him. His look was neither hostile nor angry, but rather puzzled, a little whimsical, as if he were trying to make up his mind about something.

      She wondered what he was thinking. He had opened the dancing with her and she’d seen him dance with Jane Lanchester and one or two of his relatives, including Sir John’s wife, but mostly he seemed content to move about the room, engaging his friends in conversation.

      He approached her at supper and asked if she were having a pleasant evening.

      ‘Yes, Justin,’ she said and smiled without restraint. ‘I think it has all gone well, do you not agree?’

      ‘Everyone is congratulating me on my choice of a wife. They like your manner, Lucinda, and the refreshing change you have brought to Avonlea.’

      ‘Oh…’ Her cheeks burned. ‘I am just being myself. I might have sent to London for the decorations had I thought there was time, but I was not sure who to use—and I enjoyed making the decorations myself.’

      ‘As a first attempt it was well done,’ he said, a note of qualified approval in his voice. ‘I dare say people are prepared to be generous to a young and lovely bride holding her first ball.’

      ‘Thank you, Justin. I shall, of course, consult your mother’s diaries in the future now that I understand you prefer a more professional approach.’

      Keeping her head high and refusing to let herself be hurt, Lucinda walked away from him to join her guests. Was everyone just being kind because it was her first ball? She had thought they genuinely liked what she’d done, but it seemed that Justin thought her efforts were amateur and not up to the standard he was accustomed to. If they were just humouring her, it was too lowering.

      ‘Your Grace.’ A lady she had met only briefly earlier that evening came sailing up to her. She was wearing a purple gown, but had sewn black beads to the hem and now Lucinda noticed that she had stars, a moon and a black cat repeated around the gown. ‘May I congratulate you on your theme this evening? I love the way you have done these little murals and the hangings are so effective—as are the lanterns now that the light has gone outside.’

      ‘How kind of you, Lady Morgan. I fear it is all a little amateurish, but I was not sure who to consult in the matter of decoration.’

      ‘Not at all, I am all for using your own talent, Lucinda—may I call you Lucinda? I am giving a house party next month and I should like your advice about a theme I have in mind. Perhaps we could talk in the morning?’

      Lucinda felt a rush of emotion. ‘I should