Royal Revels by Joan Smith

Author:Joan Smith [Smith, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Mystery/Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1985-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Even in winter, Brighton blossomed into gaiety when the Prince Regent was in residence at his Pavilion. The next morning his liveried footman was delivering gold-edged cards of invitation to an impromptu little soiree arranged for that same evening. The duchess was aux anges to receive hers. Deirdre was also pleasantly excited to anticipate a party. She had visions of dancing with Belami in that elaborate fairy castle thus far seen only from the outside.

“The dear man, he’s acknowledged my card with a handwritten note,” the duchess crooned. “I shall put this away with my mementos—my insurance policy and the rental agreements for the London apartment houses. This soirée is certainly in our honor, Deirdre. I wonder if his wind band is here. I do hope His Highness can be persuaded to sing a little for us—so much easier on a body than a dancing party.”

Deirdre hoped her chaperone would be disappointed. To submit unwitting guests to Prinney’s indifferent serenading seemed a hard fate. She was eager to learn whether Dick had received a card, but felt fairly sure he must have, as indeed he had.

He felt more concern than joy at the honor as it conflicted with his assignation with Lady Gilham. Within the space of an hour, Belami received another card. It was an invitation from the duchess summoning him to dinner before the party.

That she had bothered to send around a formal card suggested that he was not to be the only guest. He drove over that morning to deliver his acceptance in person and found Pronto already ensconced, looking as guilty as a fox in the chicken coop to be caught in his illicit wooing.

“Just came to answer the invitation in person,” he explained to Dick. “You know how I hate to set pen to paper. Tried it—made a terrible blotch. Fell into a passion with the pen and smashed it to smithereens. Can’t answer an invitation without a pen.”

“All is forgiven,” Belami said, patting his hand gently while he smiled at Deirdre across the room.

“Everyone is coming,” the duchess crowed. “Mr. Smythe, too, has accepted. I’ve asked Lady Donwin to fill in the table. You recall asking me for an old friend of Mrs. Fitzherbert, Belami. I have come up with Lady Donwin, an old Brighton resident. She might be able to give you some help with that ring business tonight.”

This news took the edge from Belami’s ire at learning Mr. Smythe was being put forward so noticeably. He gave Pronto a commanding eye, which meant Pronto was to engage the hostess in conversation, thereby allowing him a moment with Deirdre.

“I’ve been studying up on Mark Antony,” Pronto said, shifting his head toward the duchess.

Deirdre turned to Belami. “Isn’t it exciting, a party at the Royal Pavilion? I hope there’s some dancing this evening.”

“There’ll be plenty to see at least. Your maiden trip to Xanadu, isn’t it?” he asked, then remembered to cough into his handkerchief.

“Xanadu?” she asked in perplexity. It was really shocking how even a well-educated girl like Deirdre knew so little of poetry.

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