The Original Miss Honeyford by Chesney Marion & Beaton M. C

Author:Chesney, Marion & Beaton, M. C. [Chesney, Marion & Beaton, M. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical
ISBN: 9781472101808
Amazon: B00837F8YA
Goodreads: 23299594
Publisher: Constable
Published: 1985-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Six

Honey was not allowed to sleep late. Excited by all the floral tributes which had been arriving all morning, Lady Canon wanted to make sure Honey was looking as ravishing as possible when her callers arrived.

Honey was served with a light breakfast of dry toast and weak tea, Lady Canon wishing her to maintain her slight figure. Honey’s stomach rumbled and grumbled rebelliously as she was eventually placed on a backless sofa in the center of the first floor saloon and told not to move a muscle.

Lady Canon was satisfied with her niece’s appearance since her aim had been to make Honey appear even more beautiful in the eyes of society than she had done the night before.

Honey was wearing the latest calypso robe. Made of rich imperial muslin of a beautiful light yellow, it was finished at the extreme edge in a line of embossed silver and gold, worked in light, open flowers, ornamented down the front and around each side of the train, the center of which depicted stars worked in small pearls and fastened in the middle with a gold stud. This confection was worn over a rich white satin train petticoat, worked around the bottom with stars of pearls and dead gold to correspond with the dress. The sleeves were of white satin, tight across the shoulders and made to hang in small folds down the arm.

Over her head, “in graceful negligence” as Lady Canon’s maid put it, was thrown a long drapery of white Parisian net, embroidered with a pheasant’s eye pattern. She wore one of Lady Canon’s finest diamond necklaces, and diamond earrings sparkled through the net that covered her hair—the idea that unmarried ladies should not wear precious jewels having been “exploded,” as the fashion magazines put it. Anything that was out of fashion was “exploded.”

Honey sat very still, waiting for the first of her callers. She was frightened to move, not only because Lady Canon had warned her not to, but for fear of disturbing the carefully arranged white drapery. She hoped fervently that Lady Canon would serve cakes with the wine. Honey intended to eat as many as possible. Her experience at the hanging had left her unusually biddable and she agreed to all Lady Canon’s instructions with uncharacteristic meekness.

The floral tributes from her admirers scented the saloon. A giant bunch of pink roses from Lord Channington held pride of place. Honey tried to pass the time by guessing which gentleman would be the first to call. Lord Alistair had not even asked her to dance, so he was not expected. And a good thing too, thought Honey fiercely.

But the last man she expected was the one who was first ushered through the door.

“Captain Peter Jocelyn,” announced Beecham.

Honey would have jumped to her feet, but Lady Canon coughed a warning and so she contented herself by giving Captain Jocelyn a warm smile and holding out both her hands in welcome.

“Honey! I mean, Miss Honeyford,” cried Captain Jocelyn. “I am delighted to meet you.

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