Free Duel of Hearts by Elizabeth Mansfield Page A

a tray of soup, cold meat and tea. She’d informed Lady Stanborough that it was unlikely that Miss Sarah would have time to come down to dinner if she was expected to be ready to leave at eight-thirty.
    If Lady Stanborough had been surprised at her daughter’s sudden desire to beautify herself, she had given no sign. “Do what you can with her, Madame,” she’d said placidly, and she’d dismissed the dresser apparently without another thought.
    Madame Marie found Sarah still undressed, staring indecisively at a number of gowns which she’d laid out on her bed. “Oh, wear the burgundy, Miss,” the dresser urged eagerly. “It’s tres belle ! It’ll bring color to y’r cheeks, which, if ye don’t mind me parleyin’ to ye, you sorely need.”
    â€œDo you think the burgundy? ” Sarah asked dubiously. “It’s a bit too rakish, isn’t it? I was thinking of this one.” She held up a gown of lustrous Persian silk the color of deep topaz.
    The maid put her head to one side and considered the gown carefully. “It’s darker than I’d choose, but let’s see it on ye.” And she bustled Sarah into it and hooked it up in a twinkling. Then, stepping back and squinting at Sarah for a long moment, she nodded admiringly. “Ye’ve a good instinct, Miss Sarah. It’s a proper eye-catcher. Charmant ! Makes y’r pale color look … well, ravissant .”
    The dress had puffed half-sleeves which cunningly enhanced the provocativeness of the low-cut bodice. Madame Marie decided at once that the most effective hairstyle would be one in which Sarah’s thick hair was drawn up and away from the neck, so that, by being left completely bare, its slender grace would be emphasized. “Now, Miss, just leave everythin’ else to moi ,” she ordered, urging Sarah to take a seat beside the dressing table but facing away from the mirror. She touched the thick hair here and there with her special pomade and brushed it in. She bound the now-shiny tresses tightly at the back of Sarah’s head, twisting them into one thick curl which she permitted to fall over Sarah’s left shoulder. Then she freed a number of little tendrils of hair around the face and let them curl as they would.
    â€œMay I use a soupçon of blackin’ on y’r lashes, Miss?” she asked, tilting Sarah’s face up to scrutinize it with professional dispassion.
    â€œI am entirely in your hands,” Sarah said, throwing caution to the winds.
    A few other touches, from various pots and jars which Madame produced from the pockets of her voluminous apron, and she nodded with satisfaction. Then she added only a pair of topaz earrings to Sarah’s costume, tossed a gauzy shawl over her shoulders and pronounced her ready.
    Sarah turned and stared into her mirror in considerable astonishment. She found it difficult to believe that the face looking back at her was the same one she’d seen that morning. This person had pale skin and shadowed eyes, too, but they seemed strangely luminous. Her hair and dress, in dark contrast to her skin, gave her an air of drama and mystery. There was a bit of the Lorelei in those eyes, a touch of the tantalizer in the shadowed curves of her breasts. “Madame Marie, you are a genius !” she breathed.
    Madame Marie, looking at her handiwork with satisfaction, almost said absently, “That I am.” But she caught herself in time, smiled broadly and bobbed a quick curtsey. However, before she left the room, she couldn’t resist remarking, “If anyone was to ask me, Miss Sarah, I’d say you look a proper Parisienne , and that’s a fact.”
    Edward had already arrived when Sarah came down the stairs. He’d been carefully checked by Lady Stanborough, who found—to her immense relief—that his evening clothes, while obviously not cut by a tailor the caliber of Weston or