And the Miss Ran Away With the Rake(78)

She and Harriet thought this the perfect gown?

From all around the room, there was a chorus of gasps and then a round of “ah’s.” For indeed the costume was stunning.

And utterly scandalous.

“Cleopatra?” Daphne managed, eyeing the diaphanous silk and shaking her head at the deep V that made up the front of the gown. “You want me to dress as the Queen of the Nile?”

“Why not?” Tabitha asked, looking over at the costume as if the gown had come from Mrs. Welling’s stodgy shop in Kempton.

“Because that gown is . . . I would look . . . I cannot,” she said, shaking her head. She looked over at Harriet. “You should wear it. Your coloring makes you a better Cleopatra than I.”

“Me?” Harriet blushed and shook her head. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. No, I cannot. Besides, you have more nerve. And Tabitha and I are in agreement that once Dishforth sees you in this gown, he will no longer remain in the shadows. He’ll have no choice but to come forth and claim you.”

Claim her? If he didn’t take one look and judge her to be a reckless jade, that is. That gown would give poor, sensible Dishforth apoplexy.

Though whatever would it do to Lord Henry? a wicked little voice whispered.

Tabitha joined in. “Would you prefer that we offer the gown to Miss Nashe?”

The three of them turned in unison and looked over at the girl, who stood with her mother frowning at the last remaining costume, a shepherdess gown with far too many flounces. Poor Miss Nashe looked as if she would like to stick the crook she was holding into someone, if only to gain a better costume.

Namely Daphne.

Harriet leaned in and whispered. “Do you want her to arrive at the ball and be the Queen of not only the Nile but of the night as well?”

If only her friends didn’t know her so well. Daphne took another glance at the gown and knew the woman who wore it would never be forgotten.

And even though she had no doubts she’d be in Mr. Dishforth’s arms tonight, there was a small part of her that worried that the ardent plea she’d penned this morning and had left in the salver would not bring him out of hiding.

However, such a gown . . .

Taking it from Harriet, she walked over to the large mirror that had been brought down from one of the bedchambers and held it up to herself to gauge how it would fit.

Perfectly, if Harriet and Tabitha’s grins were any indication.

And Daphne knew with all her heart that if this gown didn’t bring Dishforth out of hiding, he’d end his days wondering why he hadn’t summoned the nerve to claim her.

Then again, as she eyed the scandalous, seductive silk one more time, she had to wonder if it was Dishforth or Lord Henry she was trying to tempt.

“Oh, maman! Here is the perfect gown!” Miss Nashe cried out in triumph, holding aloft a gorgeous green silk—a nymph’s costume—hemmed in feathers.

Tabitha sucked in a deep breath. “No. Miss Nashe, you mustn’t—”

Daphne whirled around and clapped her hand over Tabitha’s mouth.

Harriet, seeing Daphne’s intent, stepped in front of her friends and then chimed in. Loudly. “You had best take that away, Miss Nashe, before Lady Clare arrives.”

The implication being that Lady Clare, who outranked all of the other unmarried ladies, could claim it as her own.

Something not even Miss Nashe and her bountiful dowry could protest. Not unless she wanted to appear the grasping mushroom.

Meanwhile, Tabitha was trying to wiggle free of Daphne’s grasp, her eyes wide and furious. “Oh-mmm—waaa—”

Miss Nashe, gown in hand, hurried from the morning room, her mother in her wake.

That was when the barking commenced.





Chapter 10



Do you ever make mischief? I know we agreed to live a sober, sensible life, but sometimes one must laugh.

Found in a letter from Miss Spooner to Mr. Dishforth




“Well, I think I have apologized for everything, save the entire Irish race,” Tabitha declared as she came into their room to change before supper. She shot Harriet and Daphne pointed glances. “It should be the two of you down there groveling.”

Harriet glanced up from where she was ensconced on the settee reading the latest Miss Darby novel. “Apologize for what?”

Daphne bit her lips together, but it was no use; she couldn’t hold back the laughter.

Which turned out to be doubly contagious.