Free A Lady of Notoriety (The Masquerade Club) by Diane Gaston - A Lady of Notoriety (The Masquerade Club)

until, bored, he switched to picking out the melody of ‘Barbara Allen’. Or trying to hunt for the right notes.
    Eventually she returned. ‘Here we are,’ she said with what seemed like forced cheerfulness. ‘I thought lemonade might be pleasant for you.’
    He lifted a finger. ‘Listen to this.’
    He picked out the notes.
    ‘Barbara Allen?’ she asked uncertainly.
    ‘Correct!’ He was pleased she could recognise it. ‘And thank you. Lemonade will do very nicely.’
    He lifted his hand, again aware that he did not know precisely where she or the glass of lemonade was. She placed it in his hand and he drank it thirstily.
    She said, ‘I ought to have made certain you had something to drink before leaving you at breakfast. I believe your experiences also gave you a great thirst.’
    Indeed. His throat seemed perpetually dry and raw. ‘Do not chastise yourself. I am capable of asking for what I need.’ However, he hated asking.
    He’d even hated asking Carter to find him a cane. At least the cane would make him more self-sufficient, though.
    ‘Of course.’ Her placating governess voice was back. ‘You must tell me, then, what else you might need, before I take my leave.’
    Take her leave? He’d been counting on her helping him pass the time. He might despise being needy, but that did not mean he couldn’t be selfish. ‘I would like your company for a longer period.’
    ‘My company? What for?’ There was the faintest tremble of trepidation in her voice.
    ‘I want to go outside.’ He waited, but she said nothing. ‘I want to stretch my legs and feel the sun on my face.’ She still said nothing. ‘If you cannot escort me, perhaps you can send a servant to do it.’
    ‘I will accompany you.’ She made it sound like an onerous task. ‘Please wait here. I will get my hat and shawl.’
    He ought to tell her to return to her tasks. That he would amuse himself in some other way, but time passed more quickly in her company. Besides, he needed a challenge, and solving her mystery was the only challenge available to him. Unless he considered blindness a challenge, and that he refused to do. His blindness was nothing more than a temporary annoyance. Temporary.
    In less than a fortnight he would see. He must see.
    * * *
    Daphne hurried up to the maids’ quarters, where Monette was measuring Mary and Ann for their new dresses. Daphne had promised to help. Her sewing skills were more decorative than useful, confined to embroidery and needlepoint and other showy arts, but she could stitch a seam if necessary.
    ‘There you are, ma’am,’ Monette said cheerfully. ‘I am almost ready to cut the fabric.’
    Monette had made her own dresses without patterns, copying them from the clothes Daphne had brought with her to the convent. While staying at the convent, Daphne had worn a simple tunic similar to the nuns’ habits. Pretty clothes had been part of her vanity.
    The maids were brimming with excitement. She’d not thought about maids enjoying pretty clothes just as she had done, not until she’d seen Monette’s delight in wearing modern fashions.
    The abbess had said to her more than once, God made us all the same.
    In some ways people were the same, Daphne could agree, but she was always treated differently, even at the convent.
    Because of her beauty.
    ‘I cannot help you as I thought,’ Daphne said, examining the blue floral print Monette had purchased for the gowns. ‘I must entertain Mr Westleigh. He has a desire to take a walk outside.’
    ‘Do not fear, ma’am,’ Mary said. ‘We can sew and still tend to our chores.’ She turned to her sister. ‘Can we not, Ann?’
    ‘We can. Oh, yes,’ the other girl said agreeably.
    ‘I will help later,’ Daphne said.
    ‘Ma’am?’ Mary spoke. ‘You ought not to be sewing our dresses in any event, if I may be so bold to say. We will finish them.’ She turned to Monette. ‘Ann and I can finish them, can we not? You will show us what you