The prevailing style suited Thea to perfection, Judith had to admit with only a hint of jealousy, as she watched her new friend execute a sedate twirl in a high-waisted, low-necked column of shimmering gold with a transparent gauze overskirt. She was as tall and stately, as coolly elegant, as a regale lily until you saw the flash of fire, of sheer enjoyment in those dark blue eyes.
The gowns were, as Madame Therese had promised, simply constructed, with little decoration except for some silk lace to trim, a row of scallops or a neat ruche of ruffles. Perhaps a little satin ribbon or tiny pearl buttons, but nothing outré. But what an air. What style. And in such colours. Celestial blue, as deep as a robin’s egg. A rich, clear pink, nothing like Maiden’s Blush, but one which glowed like a newly unfurled rose in morning sunshine.
Thea was even talked into the palest of eau de nil silk, Breath of the Sea, she was assured—deliciously enhanced by an overskirt of spangled lace. It glittered as the light caught the spangles, gleamed as if under water where the light refracted into a million facets, turning her into a veritable mermaid. Who could resist such gowns?
Finally Madame Therese stood back, hands folded in complete satisfaction.
‘Enchanté! It has been a pleasure to dress you, mademoiselle.’
If she knew the fashion world, as she undoubtedly did, she would wager the cost of the deep blue gown, which, at this moment, was turning Thea into the breathtaking image of a stately but delicate delphinium, that there would be any number of mamas wearing a path to her door to demand that she dress their daughters in such understated but sophisticated glory. But not all would carry off such simplicity as superbly as Mademoiselle Wooton-Devereux.
And as Sir Hector was generous to a fault where his daughter was concerned, Thea had no compunction in giving in to overwhelming temptation and purchasing a number of gowns for immediate delivery to Upper Brook Street.
There was relief on all sides. Not least Lady Beatrice, who responded to the final decisions as if she herself had achieved the unachievable. Miss Wooton-Devereux was now presentable. She raised the lorgnette, admiring a delectable cream and gold creation, most discreet, with a ruched satin border and a neckline enhanced by tiny satin pleats. And if it was made known—the quietest of whispers, in confidence, would do the trick—that the lady was set to inherit a considerable fortune from her beloved papa, Lady Drusilla might just achieve her heart’s desire. Theodora might prove to be quite irresistible.
‘I think that you are now ready to be presented, Theodora.’ Lady Beatrice inclined her head in approval, the ostrich plumes in her bonnet nodding.
‘So do I.’ Thea surveyed herself in the long mirror. Her lips curved. Her mother had been right. London had much to recommend it.
Lady Aston’s drum was everything that Lady Beatrice Faringdon anticipated it to be and more.
Dazzling. Crowded. Humming with gossip, intrigue and comment. Attended by every member of the haut ton who happened to be in London. Lady Aston would be able to crow with delight to the discomfiture of other hostesses who had enjoyed far less success since the beginning of the Season. It provided an excellent opportunity to bring Miss Theodora Wooton-Devereux to the combined and critical attention of the Polite World and launch her into society.
‘Are you nervous?’ Judith asked. ‘You don’t appear to be so. How lowering!’ Thea and Judith waited in a little anteroom as a flock of servants descended to relieve the party of their evening wraps. ‘I remember some of my first balls and soirées. I was horribly nervous, almost so much that I did not enjoy them. Once I spilt a whole glass of lemonade, all down the front of a new gown. It was very expensive with Brussels lace over the bodice and—’ She caught the amused glint in Thea’s eyes. Short though their acquaintance might be, Judith’s obsession with pretty clothes was an open secret. ‘Well! Anyway, Mama was furious and threatened not to let me out of the schoolroom again until I could behave with more elegance.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘I suppose I was too naïve for words, but I was only seventeen.’
Thea nodded in sympathy as she arranged her stole and unfurled her fan. ‘No. I am not nervous. But then I have an advantage over your position. I have attended any number of such events as this. I presume that I am suitably got up for this momentous occasion?’ She arched her brows in gentle mockery, held out her arms for Judith’s inspection. ‘My mama considered me to be in relatively good looks and Sir Hector huffed at the bills, but did not object.’
Judith could not help but laugh. ‘I think that Lady Drusilla had the right of it. You look quite the thing!’
Thea was in her guise of mermaid in the deliciously spangled eau de nil body with the delicate lace overskirt. She had competed her toilette with long silk gloves, a pretty beaded reticule and the ivory-and-feather fan. The spangled scarf from Madame Therese matched the overskirt. A pearl necklet and pearl drops in her ears completed the ensemble with the exact touch of sophistication. Judith was left to contemplate that in relatively good looks did not quite do justice to this apparition, but she had already come to the conclusion that the relationship between Thea and her mother was not of the common order.
‘Good. Now I can enjoy myself.’ Then the two young women turned to follow Lady Beatrice into the ballroom where their hostess was in the process of receiving a steady stream of guests, the majority of whom she had no idea she had invited.
The Faringdon party found itself absorbed happily into the throng and it was soon abundantly clear that Theodora was in her element in such surroundings. It was also abundantly clear that she would not lack for partners. She was introduced to so many gentlemen, all eager to salute the fingers of the willowy golden-haired beauty who would one day inherit a fortune, that she all but lost count. She chatted, sipped champagne and promised herself for any number of dances, with grace and aplomb and all the assurance of having acted as her mama’s deputy in formal and diplomatic circles.
Lady Beatrice subjected her to more than one sharp glance, but soon was forced to accept that there was no cause here for anxiety that the girl might not know how to conduct herself. Her upbringing might be unusual, she might be of a forthright disposition, but her social skills were excellent and she would do nothing to bring a blush of mortification to her hostess’s face. True, there might have been some concern over whether she should grace the ballroom in the waltz or not. But Lady Drusilla approved. If Theodora could waltz in Paris, she could waltz in London. So waltz she should, and most competently, thus Beatrice shrugged off all responsibility. After which decision, there was nothing to spoil the night.
For her part, Thea took her place in one country dance after another, never flagging. Sufficiently experienced, she did not lack for conversation, but could mind her feet and her tongue at the same time as she twirled and stepped with precision and elegance. Nor was she averse to a little light-hearted flirtation. She could use her fan most adeptly to draw attention to her glorious eyes, whose sparkle rivalled the crystal drops above her pretty head. Laughter and a bright spirit flowed from her. Who would not desire to dance with such an enchanting young lady? No fear that she would ever be a wallflower, destined to sit and watch as others trod the stately or lively measures. And if no unwed earl was present so far to ask for Miss Wooton-Devereux’s hand in the next waltz, not even the Earl of Moreton, still Lady Drusilla could not be disappointed with the proceedings.
As for those who observed and assessed and might have stared in cold and stuffy disapproval, they came to the conclusion that Miss Wooton-Devereux was indeed something out of the way, but not unbecomingly so. And her mama. Well, perhaps Lady Drusilla was a little eccentric with the draped turban on her greying curls, all hung about with jewels and feathers, rather in the manner of an eastern potentate. And the quantity of gold chains on her bosom. Rather strange but … interesting. And Sir Hector—of course—so distinguished and responsible. If the Princess Esterhazy herself greeted Lady Drusilla with warm condescension and a light kiss on the cheek, then there was no matter for concern. And if the girl had been brought up in the courts of Europe, then that would account for any oddity in her manner. But her breeding and her appearance, it was decided, were beyond question. Of course, the prospect of money would win over even those who might still look askance