Page 7 of Lady Mary's May Day Mischief
“Cow eyes? I can’t see well enough to do that!”
Mary burst into laughter.
“I’m not kidding. I failed at flirting our first year out.” Fifi reached for another tiny choux. “It doesn’t work.”
“Oh, god, Fee! Pretend!”
Fifi regarded her with a ruthless glee Mary had seen only once before. “I’ll pretend if you will.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“It would be easy. Isn’t that what you’re telling me?”
“Well, I—”
“Mary, it’s simple. Smile. Dance. Play cards!”
“Nowyou’rebeing funny.”
“I’m deadly serious, Mary. You do so many things to help others, but never yourself. Do this. Just once. And have a bit of fun.”
Chapter 2
April 30, 1816
“Another thirty minutes and we’re there,” Mary told Fifi, then dropped her father’s gold pocket watch back into her reticule. The trip from Bath to Chippenham usually took nearly three hours. Once there, Lord Courtland would send his own traveling coach into the town to take Fifi and Mary the next three miles to the Hall.
Fifi smiled, settling into the public coach, a much different lady than the one who’d argued with Mary days ago. She had a determination about her that had always been one of her hallmarks…and which had gone lacking in the past two years. Today, she wore a new redingote, a gorgeous sapphire corded silk that lit up her pearl-like complexion and complemented her blue eyes. Best of all, she wore a smile that was genuine. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you thought of this little ploy. I haven’t had such a good time at my seamstress’s in years.”
“And she did well by you.” Mary relaxed, relieved that Fifi embraced their little solution to the Esme Problem, as they’d dubbed the next few days. But Fifi had also apologized twice for her outburst last Thursday. Two of her other characteristics were that she never was angry for long, nor did she hold a grudge.
“I needed a few new gowns. To help me face the gentleman I’m to marry.” She fluttered her lashes like a conspirator at Mary, then at Mary’s lady’s maid, Welles, who sat across from them. When they went to Courtland Hall each year, they could take only one maid between them. And Fifi was not demanding, nor was Mary. So sturdy Welles easily cared for them both.
Mary took Fifi’s desire for new clothes as a sure sign Fifi would enjoy herself at the Frolic.
“So I didn’t mind the expense. Mama needs for nothing these days. Poor dear. She always loved a party. And she especially always adored this one. Yesterday, she had a moment of clarity and asked me what time of year it was and would I go to Courtland Hall. When I said I would, she beamed at me. ‘Dance,ma sirène,’ she said. So I humored her and told her I would stand up for each one.”
“Really?” Mary squeezed Fifi’s gloved hand. Fifi perpetually claimed to have no sense of rhythm and longed to sit out. “Youwill dance? That means I’ll play cards.”
Fifi threw her a rueful glance. “Youshould dance.I’llplay cards!”
“And rob the men blind?” Mary chuckled. But her hand went to her right thigh, the very limb that prevented her from ever taking to a chalked floor with anyone. “Not the way to a man’s heart, Fifi.”
“I don’t want any man’s heart. Just his agreement to appear that I have it. For three days only.” She wrinkled her dark brows. “I keep trying to figure out which man I should approach.”
“What of Lord Marleigh? A polite young man. Eyes black as licorice. Dances well.”
“Perhaps. But I’ve gone over all the regular guests and not one inspires me. You?”
Mary pressed her lips together. “My usual problem.”
“Shall I start my sermon?” Fifi pushed up her little spectacles and challenged her with a toss of her head.
“No. I know it by heart.”I’m too particular. I bore easily. But that’s because I don’t wish to speak of the lateston ditsor the dessert cakes or admire one’s new manner of tying one’s cravat.
“I think you need a new man. A Highlander.”
“I canna decipher the brogue.”
