Page 55 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
Chapter Twelve
The next evening, as Ava was getting ready for a ball in Lady Birmingham's, she and Mary discussed—for the hundredth time—the disappearance of Lady Anna.
"That Harriette woman knew something," Ava said stubbornly, as Mary assisted her into her gown.
"I'm sure she knows lots of things," the lady's maid responded with a shrug, "Though she's not giving up her secrets that easy, and I'm glad she didn't get a chance to call that Jimmy fellow. Thank heavens the duke came along when he did, for we could have ended up in world of trouble."
Ava resisted rolling her eyes at the mention of Kilbride. Mary had practically canonised the man for saving them yesterday from the threat of "Jimmy", and had even forgiven him for upending their plans for an ice in Gunter's. Ava, however, thought that rather than saving them, Kilbride had interrupted them, just when she thought she might be able to get Harriette to confess.
"I just know she knows something," Ava whispered again, more to herself than to Mary, though the Irish woman clucked in disapproval.
"All I know," Mary said with a frown, as she surveyed Ava in her dress, "Is that that little assistant in Madam Lloris' shop has sewn this sash all wrong—look at it."
Ava glanced down at the velvet sash, which was tied just under her bust. She couldn't see anything wrong in it, but then, she had not had as much experience with ballgowns as Mary. The dress was, Ava thought, rather beautiful; it was made from soft, lilac silk, overlayed with gossamer, and had intricate satin Van Dyke points on the sleeves.
"I think it will do," Ava said with a simple shrug, but Mary did not listen.
"We still have time," she murmured to herself, "I can run down to Brook Street and have the girl fix it."
"Oh, there's no need," Ava argued, but Mary was not to be deterred.
"It's a matter of principal," she said with a sniff, as she exited the room, "I won't tell you how much Lord Fairfax pays to that French woman—the least she can do is make sure that her girls know a how to finish a trim."
The door snapped shut behind her and Ava was left alone. She quite liked the idea of curling up in the chair by the fireplace and reading her book, but was afraid that all hell would break loose, if Mary returned to find the dress wrinkled. Instead, she opted to pace the room restlessly, feeling a little like a caged bird.
Evening was falling outside the window and Ava paused to appreciate the view. For once, the sky was clear, for earlier, a small spring storm had pushed away the clouds of smoke which usually hovered over the city.
Directly across the square, on the opposite side of the garden, Ava saw that the lights were being lit in Lord and Lady Darlington's home. She rested her forehead against the window pane, as she followed the progress of the servant—probably a footman—as he made his way from room to room lighting the candles.
