Free Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer Page B

impression that life in town is more amusing than life at Wych End.’
    She perceived the trend of the matter. Ay, here was a pretty tangle. It was, after all, an honour for an unknown young gentleman to be invited to stay with the great Sir Anthony Fanshawe. Her excuse had been lame; in a word, she must appear cubbish. And how to retrieve the false step? ‘You are under a false impression, sir.’
    ‘I am, am I?’
    ‘I know very well, sir, that I am unduly honoured by your proposal, but I have been taught that it is a greater rudeness to ignore previous engagements than to refuse a flattering new invitation.’
    ‘You have that wonderfully pat,’ admired Sir Anthony. ‘Pray let us forget the matter.’
    ‘So long as I do not stand in your black books,’ Prudence said tentatively.
    There was a laugh, and a hand on her shoulder. ‘I confess, I have an odd liking for you, young man. You are absolved.’
    Ridiculous that one should feel a weight removed from one’s mind. Prudence decided to say nothing to Robin of the matter, dreading his mirth.
    CHAPTER VIII
    The Black Domino
    My Lady Lowestoft stole up to the door of Prudence’s chamber, threw a swift glance round to see that no one was by, and went in, firmly shutting the door behind her. Prudence sat before her dressing table, haresfoot in hand. She looked round to see who came in so unceremoniously. ‘Fie!’ she said, and turned back to the mirror.
    ‘My reputation if any one saw me!’ said my lady, and sat down in a swirl of purple silk. She carried a strip of velvet in one hand, and a purple domino hung from her shoulders. She put up the velvet to her face. ‘So! Am not I
intrigante
,
my dear?’
    ‘Very, ma’am. You always are, masked or not.’
    ‘So they say,’ nodded my lady. ‘Oh, la-la! we’re very fine to-night, not?’
    Prudence smoothed the crimson silk sleeve of her coat, and smiled a little.
‘
My
pièce de résistance
,
ma’am.’
    ‘Oh, you look very well. That goes without saying. But what a wardrobe! The
bon papa
finds himself in affluent circumstances now?’
    ‘Up and down, my lady. There seemed to be money enough when I saw him last.’ Prudence pressed a patch on to her cheek with expert fingers. ‘Are you for setting forward? I’ll go see if Robin’s dressed.’ She picked up the crimson domino from the bed, and her mask and hat with it, and went out.
    Robin’s voice desired to know who it was that scratched on the door. Prudence answered, and heard him say: ‘Oh, enter, my dear.’
    She went in humming a snatch of song. It died on her lips at what she saw, and she shut the door rather quickly. In place of the lady she expected to find there stood in the middle of the room a slim, lithe young figure in satin small clothes, and a cambric shirt. The fair hair was powdered thickly, and tied back with a black riband in the neck; the white throat was hidden by a lace neck-cloth which fell under the chin in deep ruffles down the shirt front. If Robin made a pretty girl, he was beyond doubt a very handsome young man.
    ‘Robin, are you mad?’ said Prudence quietly.
    In the background, shaking out the folds of an elegant coat, John growled: ‘Ay, you may well ask, mistress. It’s taken leave of his senses he has.’
    Robin laughed out. ‘My poor John! I shall be the death of you yet.’
    ‘You’ll be the death of yourself, sir, and well you know it.’
    Prudence came further into the room. ‘What mischief now?’
    ‘Madam Prude! I salute you. No mischief, nor any madness either.’
    ‘I’m not so sure. Pray will you be serious?’
    He held the mask over his eyes. ‘What, shall I be known?’
    ‘There’s to be an unmasking at supper. What then?’
    ‘At the supper hour—farewell, Robin!’ He blew an imaginary kiss from the tips of his fingers, and tossed the mask on to a chair. ‘Don’t play the spoil sport, sister mine.’
    She shrugged. ‘It’s to jeopardise your life for a pair of brown eyes.’
    ‘It’s