The Spanish Lady by Joan Smith

Author:Joan Smith [Smith, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1993-09-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

They entered a dark doorway and were confronted with a narrow staircase. The music came from above. They joined the throng mounting the stairs, the music and voices growing louder as they drew closer to the source.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Malvern said, worried. “Damn, I don’t feel any too safe myself. Best put on your mask.” They both did so.

“Don’t be foolish. There is no danger. This is how the campesinos celebrate in Spain. Papa has often taken me to such affairs. Our grape pickers and field-workers had such parties at harvest time. The aristocracy have much duller parties.”

A man wearing a devil’s suit took their tickets and said, “Bienvenido, señor y señorita.”

They passed into the long, dim room. It was hung with garish orange, yellow, and green streamers. All manner of costume was there. There were ladies in Spanish gowns from the last century, accompanied by their cavaliers. There were shepherdesses and one balding, rotund man in the rig of Henry VIII, wearing a satin tunic and long silk stockings.

“I shall never recognize Mrs. Petrel-Jones!” Helena said.

“And how will she recognize you?”

“That is simple enough. I shall remove my mask,” she said, and took it off. “Don’t worry, Malvern. There will be no one from the ton here to recognize me. Let us circulate amid the throng and hope Moira sees us.”

Before she had gone three yards, a respectable-looking older gentleman in a plain black domino and mask accosted them. “Señorita Carlisle! Should you be here?” he asked in English.

“Mr. Gagehot! What a marvelous stroke of luck. I am looking for Moira. Oh, and this is my escort, Mr. Malvern.” Helena turned to Malvern. “This is Papa’s British agent for his sherry. He has often visited us in Spain.”

“But of course! You are looking for Moira,” Gagehot said.

“I have a carta amoroso, for her from Papa. Is she here?”

Mr. Gagehot did not look happy to hear of this carta amorosa. “She was here, but she found it rowdy and mentioned she would leave early. Perhaps she has already gone—”

“Oh, dear! Do you have her address?”

“Let me take the billet-doux to her, to save you bother.”

“Gracias, but I promised Papa I would deliver it by hand.”

A trilling voice screeched across the noisy hall. “Helena! Cara mía, it is you!”

“Moira!”

Helena ran to meet a lady wearing an elaborate gown from the reign of Louis XIV, with her reddish blond hair piled in a mound on top of her head. Malvern, ogling her, thought she resembled a slightly passé Rubens. She had that ripe, sensuous quality of his nudes: an expanse of full bosoms, white, dimpled arms, and a pretty but somewhat vacuous face with drooping eyelids. He felt that she would stand no chance of marrying a peer in England, though she stood a very good chance of being kept by one. Something in her suggested an easy availability. She was a trifle tipsy, for one thing.

Helena presented Malvern to her and then suggested, “Let us retire to a quieter corner to talk.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.