Free Lament for a Lost Lover by Philippa Carr Page A

we set out, naturally, but it had not occurred to me until that moment. “Really,” I said, “I have no idea.”
    “Then you must put your mind to it. First impressions are important. For you your blue muslin with the lace collar, I think. It is fresh, young and innocent looking, as you are, my dear Arabella.”
    “And for you,” I retorted, “brocade or velvet? Silk or satin?”
    She grimaced. “It is more necessary for me to make a good impression. I don’t carry your credentials, remember.”
    “As my friend, I think you do.”
    “Even so, I need an extra fillip. They know that you are the worthy daughter of a worthy general high in the King’s favour. All my glory is reflected. I must try to make a little of my own.”
    “Very well,” I replied. “Wear your most elaborate dress, but it will be your manners on which you will be judged.”
    She laughed, mocking me, and when we dressed she selected one of her simplest gowns. She looked charming in it, I thought, for the blue wool with a peaked bodice set off her slender waist; and with her hair piled high and drawn off her face to show that high forehead, she looked regal.
    Lucas was already in the salon when we came down and Lady Eversleigh took Harriet and me by the hand and led us forward.
    “Just an intimate gathering tonight,” she said. “I thought it better that we get to know each other before the others arrive. Yes, we are having more friends visiting us. That is why I must put you two in the same room, for which I do apologize.”
    “It is because of my unexpected coming,” said Harriet quickly, “so it is for me to apologize.”
    “Please … please we are delighted to have you. I always say the more the merrier. It is merely that not being in our own home we are cramped for space. Now here is my daughter Charlotte and Sir Charles Condey … a very dear friend. And where is Edwin?”
    “He will be here shortly, Mama,” said Charlotte. Charlotte, I assessed to be in her late twenties. She had a mild face, with light brown hair hanging in rather reluctant curls, which looked as though the slight breeze would unwind them and let her hair return to its natural state which was completely straight. Her mouth was smallish and rather pinched, and there was a fawnlike look about her as though she were poised for flight and would leap off if she should be startled. Her gown suited her; it was of silk and lace and of a deep blue which accentuated the colour of her eyes which were rather large but too prominent for beauty.
    She took my hand and smiled at me. Timid, I thought and eager to be friends. I warmed to her.
    Sir Charles Condey was bowing. He was, I guessed, about the same age as Charlotte. Of medium height, inclined to be rotund, which made him look shorter than he actually was. Big brown eyes which reminded me of those of a horse, large features generally, pleasant, but rather lacking in vitality, I assessed, but easy to like as long as one did not have to spend too much time with him.
    I reprimanded myself for making hasty judgements. My mother had warned me of it. I remember her saying: “People who sum up others on a first meeting are invariably mistaken. You can only really know people after years of living together and then it is amazing what one has to discover.”
    “I trust you had an easy journey,” said Sir Charles.
    “We did,” I told him. “It was just as Lady Eversleigh said it would be.”
    He was looking at Harriet. She was smiling. The special smile I had noticed she bestowed even on Lucas. Sir Charles blinked a little as though he were slightly dazzled.
    “It was so good of Lady Eversleigh to let me come,” she said. “I am staying with Arabella and her family.”
    “We are glad you did,” said Lady Eversleigh. “We shall be a large party, and it is always so much easier to entertain with a crowd.”
    “Oh, I do agree,” said Harriet. “There are so many more things one can do with numbers.”
    “As soon as