Free Confessions of a Little Black Gown by Elizabeth Boyle Page A

trust to do this.”
    Oh, demmit ! Why me? Her jaw worked back and forth. Yes, cursing, even in her thoughts, was utterly unladylike, but botheration, whoever had made up such a rule hadn’t a sister like Felicity.
    “Please, Tally,” Felicity pleaded, giving her that sad-eyed ploy that said, We have only each other . Unfortunately it worked, for despite all her complaints about Felicity, Tally loved her sister fiercely.
    “Fine, I shall help. But remember, you’ll owe me.”
    But even as Tally left the salon, with Brutus at her hem, she had no doubts that the moment she was out of sight, Felicity would consider the favor quite forgotten.
     
    Tally paused at the doorway to the gardens, halfway inside the shelter of the house and halfway out, lured by the spice of roses and the soft summer breeze whispering in the night.
    It was so utterly romantic, she wished she was slipping outside for some illicit tryst, not this mercy errand for Felicity.
    Sighing, Tally glanced up at the moon shining over the fouteenth duke’s infamous Terrace Gardens. But instead of being inspired by the vista, she felt altogether foolish.
    She’d worn this gown to see if she could rouse Mr. Ryder—a vicar, for heaven’s sakes. Not that he’dshown any recognition of her beyond asking her “to pass the salt.”
    Glancing down at Brutus, who sat on the close-cropped lawn, she said softly, “I fear Felicity’s opinion is altogether correct. He’s a rather dull fellow, and I’ve let my imagination run away with me.”
    Brutus tipped his head and shook it, the mane of hair around his face flying about furiously.
    “And worse yet, this evening was an utter waste of my new gown.” She held out the velvet for his examination. “But at least I haven’t ruined it by spilling on it or tearing it.”
    But Brutus was already sniffing the air for something to chase after, velvet gowns barely worth his notice.
    Something he had in common with Mr. Ryder, Tally thought, smiling slightly.
    She stepped down onto the lawn, avoiding the gravel path. It was an odd thing to do, but she smiled as she did it, for her father had always said it was better to go silently into the night.
    Then again, he’d taught her and Felicity how to “skulk about” at an early age, neither of them realizing he was merely practicing his own skills in subterfuge. But, she had to admit, this velvet dress was perfect for slipping about unnoticed, for it made not a sound as she walked, and the black fabric melded with the growing darkness as if it had been chosen for just this sort of assignation.
    Of course the shoes were another matter, and she glanced down at them, her ankles wobbling beneath her. What an utter shame that such lovely shoes should be so terribly painful.
    She glanced across the lawn to the low wall that was the first vista on the fabled walk through the gardens, assuming that Mr. Ryder would be standing there, watching the moon rise over the three perfectly clipped lawns below.
    But he was nowhere to be seen. She glanced around the rest of the upper portion of the garden, and found the place deserted.
    How odd.
    But then Brutus helped her out, his ears pricking up before he set off toward the other side of the house, where the eighth duke’s crowning glory sat—the Hawthorne Maze. Planted, legend held, in honor of Queen Elizabeth coming to visit.
    Whatever was Mr. Ryder doing wandering over there?
    Then she had a wicked thought as she crossed the lawn. What if he is out walking for his digestion? As dyspeptic as Felicity feared? Oh, wouldn’t that be perfect.
    My dear Miss DeFisser, I would like you to meet the Duke of Hollindrake’s cousin, Mr. Ryder. He’d be here to greet you, but I fear his poor digestion has left him terribly indisposed.
    Tally smiled to herself, but when she turned the corner, she faltered to a stop, the sight before her putting a complete halt to her foolish musings. For there before her stood a man. Oh, not some poor fellow with