Free Before the Storm by Melanie Clegg Page B

they’d all spent far too long slavishly copying the extravagant fashions that she set and furtively reading all the current tit-bits of gossip about her life.
    If anyone wondered why Jules had never introduced his bride to be to any of his distinguished friends, they were far too polite to show it. Clementine gave Sidonie a furtive look from beneath her dark eyelashes. ‘Will we really be invited to the ball?’ she whispered. ‘If these people don’t really know Venetia then they won’t know about us either, will they?’
    Sidonie looked at her charge, debating whether or not to tell her the truth then gave a tiny shake of her head. She looked sadly at the other girls as they squealed and hugged each other in the centre of the room, talking over each other excitedly about the dresses they wanted to wear and how they planned to do their hair. ‘I’m afraid not, dearest.’

Chapter Seven

    It was clear to Sidonie right from the beginning that despite their closeness to Venetia, Eliza and Clementine were extremely unlikely to be asked to the masked ball at Lady D’Eversley’s Grosvenor Square mansion. They both pretended not to care about the general lack of invitations that came to Highbury Place but Sidonie had watched their faces fall when their mother rather tactlessly read aloud from fawning newspaper accounts of the glittering balls and soirées of Mayfair which dwelled on the gorgeous dresses worn by the ladies and dashing good looks of the gentlemen and knew that actually both girls felt their exclusion from high society very keenly.
    ‘Most of these society girls aren’t nearly so pretty or rich as my lovely Eliza,’ Mrs Garland once confided despairingly to Sidonie when she found herself alone with her in the breakfast room. ‘So why isn’t she getting invited to anything? I take her to Hyde Park and all the most fashionable amusements so it isn’t as though they never get to see her.’
    ‘They may see her,’ Sidonie said gently, not wanting to hurt Mrs Garland’s feelings, ‘but they don’t know who she is. Oh, they may well ask the name of the pretty fair girl but you must remember that the very highest ton have all known each other since the cradle and their families have been marrying each other for centuries. It’s very hard for an outsider to break into their circle.’
    ‘But how is it to be done?’ Mrs Garland exclaimed, pushing her tea cup away petulantly. ‘I swear that we have tried everything to bring the girls to their notice and yet they still carry on snubbing them. Mr Garland says that we should just give up and introduce them to businessmen like himself but that’s not what I want for them, Miss Roche.’ She sighed. ‘I always thought that my Eliza could be a Lady one day. Do you not think that she looks just like a Lady, Miss Roche? She would be wasted on some mere merchant, no matter how rich he might be.’ She shuddered. ‘No, I am determined that she should marry a peer and that’s an end to the matter.’
    Sidonie privately felt that Mr Garland spoke a great deal of sense and that Mrs Garland was over reaching herself but it was beyond her remit to say so, of course. ‘I am sure that we will be able to contrive something, Mrs Garland,’ was all that she tactfully replied.
    Although the sensible, rational part of Sidonie’s mind told her not to meddle in the affairs of her charge, still she could not help but be determined to do her best to ensure that neither Garland girl and by extension, Phoebe was left out on this occasion. The sight of Eliza and Clementine both wholeheartedly and apparently without envy joining in Venetia’s excitement about the forthcoming ball only served to strengthen her resolve.  
    After a sleepless, terrible night, she wearily summoned up all of her considerable courage to write a very brief but imperative note to Comte Jules, asking him to meet her in St James’ Park the next day. She liked to walk there alone while Clementine was