The Advent of Lady Madeline by Pamela Sherwood

Author:Pamela Sherwood [Sherwood, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Castle Publishing

The doublets and hose, the coifs and wimples, the farthingales and stomachers had all been put away, the swords and bucklers returned to the prop boxes. And everyone who’d been a part of tonight’s performance had been acknowledged and thanked, from the cast to the small cadre of servants who’d kept things running smoothly behind the scenes.

“Our revels now are ended,” Madeline murmured as she fastened a locket on a fine gold chain about her throat and shook out the skirts of her rose-red evening gown, bright as her mood.

Tomorrow, everyday life would resume, and she suspected there would be a number of aching heads in the morning, along with a general sense of anticlimax. But tonight was for celebration. As had become the tradition after their amateur theatricals, an elaborate buffet supper awaited them all in the Grand Salon, courtesy of Maman.

Accepting a gold tissue shawl from Albertine, Madeline draped it over her shoulders and hurried downstairs to join her castmates. One castmate in particular, she acknowledged with a secret smile. She only hoped that Lord Saxby wouldn’t be too hard to find in the crowd—or excessively besieged by new female admirers!

As expected, the Grand Salon was teeming with people, several of whom descended upon Madeline the moment they saw her, lavishly praising the play and her performance.

“Trés bien, chérie!” her mother pronounced, kissing her lightly on both cheeks. “You and the others have outdone yourselves tonight!”

Smiling, Madeline thanked her and returned the salute, before accepting the equally heartfelt congratulations of the Duchess of Langdale and Lady Middleton. Fortunately, Elaine and Margaret entered the salon a few minutes later, freeing her to go in search of Lord Saxby.

Spying him in a group of several young men that included two of her brothers, she made her way towards them.

“We always have a good turn-out for our shooting parties,” Hal was saying as she approached. “Mind you, the weather can make a big difference to one’s success in the field!”

“Not necessarily,” Reg pointed out with typical contrariness, and Madeline stifled a sigh. “A superior marksman can bring down a bird in any conditions.”

The implication was as obvious as it was insulting, and Hal flushed, his blue eyes narrowing. “Shall we make a wager, then, Reggie?” he inquired, using the diminutive their brother hated most. “Five guineas says I bag more birds than you on New Year’s Day.”

“Keep your money, Little Harold.” Reg’s voice was deceptively soft. “I promise to eat all of your killing.”

“Wrong play,” Madeline interposed crisply, stepping between them. Much as she longed to crack her brothers’ heads together, a conciliatory approach was more likely to work, so she favored them with her sweetest smile. “Can we not concentrate on tonight, instead? I wanted to tell you how splendid you were in the play. All of you,” she added, noticing that Lord Rupert Bonham and Mr. Moresby were also in the group. “It was a pleasure to perform with you.”

They preened at that, even Hal and Reg, and Lord Saxby sketched her a bow.

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