It was almost time to leave for the ball, and Megan was waiting nervously in her room for a footman to inform her she should go down to the hall. The white evening gown fitted her quite perfectly, and Evangeline had sent Annie to dress her hair into an elaborate knot from which there fell several heavy ringlets. The new comb, adorned with a posy of pansies from the garden, was fixed to the knot, and the little black mask was in place. Her attire was completed by a gold-spangled reticule, a gold-embroidered cashmere shawl, and a fan, all of which were borrowed from Evangeline because Megan had no such things of her own.
She stood by the window in a veritable lather of apprehension. How would she be received tonight? Lady Jane would never have dreamed of taking her to such an occasion, but it was clear that Evangeline did not intend her to keep discreetly out of the way. How would Brighton society react to discovering a presumptuous companion in its midst? More than that, a presumptuous companion who had the face to appear on Sir Greville Seton's arm! Would she be seen as a servant who had no business among the ton? Or as a gentlewoman who through no fault of her own had suffered a terrible reversal of fortune? Probably the former, it being a regrettable fact that the beau monde was not generally disposed to be tolerant; besides, it was what she herself thought, but at least the school for young ladies in Bath had provided excellent dancing tuition, so the overbold employee would not make a spectacle of herself. Except perhaps at the new waltz, of which Evangeline had spoken at dinner earlier in the evening.
"You mark my words, the waltz will soon become the dance. I dare say it will take time to become acceptable at Almack's, but then everything takes time at Almack's," she had declared to the table in general, as Edward, still hobbling slightly, served the lemon sole.
"And when did you encounter this astonishing new measure, Aunt E?" Greville inquired.
"About two months ago at the Marine Pavilion. Prinny himself instructed me in its intricacies, and at first it made me so giddy that I had to sit down again; but it was not long before I was whirling away like a dervish." Evangeline smiled. "It is a most immodest dance, you know, for the gentleman holds his lady around the waist. Did you ever hear of such a thing? Mrs. Fitzherbert was heard to remark that in her opinion it amounted to the first step in seduction!"
Rupert laughed. "And was that Prinny's intention where you were concerned, Aunt E?"
"Certainly not!"
Greville smiled. "Well, I have encountered the waltz as well, and believe that something so shocking can only become exceedingly popular. In fact, I predict it will become all the rage."
Evangeline nodded. "I could not agree more, sir, although it certainly will not be danced publicly in Brighton with our present master of ceremonies. Captain Wade is too old and set in his ways to countenance such a radical new thing. I am relieved he will not be in charge tonight, for he has become such a stick-in-the-mud that he can clear a room almost as swiftly as anything Garsington!"
Megan smiled as she remembered the conversation, but then the sound of singing attracted her attention outside, and she opened the window to listen properly. An occasional snowflake was borne through the darkness as two rather inebriated workmen staggered past the remains of Great East Street, singing Good King Wenceslaus at the top of their lungs.
"Thou art beautiful tonight, lady," Rollo said suddenly behind her.
She turned quickly. "Master Witherspoon?"
"Thou knowest another spirit in this house?"
She smiled. "No, of course not. Where are you?"
"By fire, candle, and moon shalt thou see me, mistress." The wraith stepped across the fireplace, and she saw his faint outline against the flames.
"Have you come to tell me how badly I read this afternoon?"
"No, lady, for thy reading was well enough. I have come to see thy fripperies for the ball. I vow thou hast chosen well, and will shine among thy peers."
"It's kind of you to say so, sir, but I doubt there will be many there tonight who will wish to hear themselves termed my peers."
"Then, sweetness, shall I simply say that thou art peerless?" the ghost said gallantly.
Megan smiled. "You are incorrigible, sir. Will we have the pleasure of your company tonight?"
"A ball is not a ball if one is alone."
"If one is without Belle Bevington, you mean?" she ventured.
Someone knocked at the door. "Are you all right, Miss Mortimer?" It was Greville.
"Er, yes. Yes, of course," she replied.
"Pray open the door."
She did as he asked, and found him standing there holding his mask and fiddling with the lace that spilled from his cuff. He wore white silk breeches, a tight black coat-unbuttoned, the better to show off his brocade waistcoat and lace-trimmed shirt-and there was a very singular emerald pin in his neck cloth. "I, er, heard your voice and wondered if all was well?" His glance moved past her, but he saw only an empty room.
"I was rehearsing." It was the first thing that came into her head.
"For what? I wasn't aware that you had a part," he replied.
She floundered in a little deeper. "Oh, it wasn't for the play."
"Then, what for?"
Her mind went blank. "I-I was learning a poem," she said then.
"Indeed? Which one?"
"A Shakespeare sonnet." Oh, how true it was that one lie led to another!
Greville raised an eyebrow. "I'm all interest, Miss Mortimer. Allow me to hear you."
She swallowed. "Hear me?"
"Yes."
Rollo cleared his throat. "Repeat after me, mistress. 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' "
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?''
" 'Thou art more lovely and more temperate.' "
" 'Thou art more lovely and more temperate.' " She felt very foolish saying such words. No doubt Rollo had once sighed them to Belle Bevington, but Megan Mortimer felt an utter idiot saying them to Sir Greville Seton!
" 'Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date.' "
" 'Rough winds do shake the darling-' "
Greville continued for her. " '-do shake the darling buds of May. And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometimes too hot the eve of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometimes declines.' "
Rollo clapped approvingly. "Oh, finely said, sir, finely said."
Megan looked shrewdly at Greville. "Why, sir, I believe you have been less than honest with Lady Evangeline. You recite quite exquisitely, and could clearly be a wonderful Malvolio if you so chose."
Greville smiled, then looked past her again as he realized the window was open. "Do you suffer from the heat, Miss Mortimer?"
She colored slightly. "I-I was just looking outside at the snow when you knocked."
"While at the same time reciting a Shakespeare sonnet about summer?"
"Er, yes."
"How very strange." He turned to go, but then paused. "You look very well tonight, Miss Mortimer, very well indeed."
"Why, thank you, Sir Greville."
"Not at all." He inclined his head, then walked away.
Megan closed the door, and then the window as well, for the room was now very cold indeed. Then she spoke to Rollo. "Thank you for coming to my aid, Master Witherspoon."
There was no reply, and she realized that the specter had gone.