Free The Spider's Touch by Patricia Wynn Page A

House into the unpaved road known as Piccadilly. Harrowby would have preferred to have six horses under harness, but the coachman had insisted that in the expected crowd, six would be too many for safety. He and the footmen hanging onto the back, however, contributed to the overall splendour of Harrowby’s equipage, since they were decked in new livery in the Hawkhurst colours of brown and gold.
    The reason for the occasion was the first birthday King George had celebrated in his new kingdom of Great Britain. His Majesty’s drawing-room was also to be Hester’s first real appearance at Court. Mrs. Mayfield would have it that her daughter, the countess, had conferred too great a privilege on her cousin—one which Hester simply did not deserve. More frightened than ever by the prospect of speaking to the King, however, Isabella had insisted that Hester come, and Harrowby, who did not speak French or German either, was perfectly happy to have a personal interpreter along.
    An immediate boon for Hester had been the new dress sewn for her. This afternoon, as she had climbed in the coach and taken her place next to Mrs. Mayfield, nervous as she was about her presentation to the King, she had wished that my Lord St. Mars could be there to see her new gown. She did not expect it to make a dazzling impression on him—how could it, when Isabella would always outshine her? But in her pink, embroidered silk with a neckline scooped low enough to show that, after all, she did have a rather graceful neck, Hester knew that she had never looked so handsome in her life.
    The trip was not far from Hawkhurst House to the Palace, but as soon as the carriage pulled out into the street, their coachman had to fight the lines of coaches and horsemen all trying to make the turn into St. James’s Street. Then, as soon as they reached the pavement, and the stone walls of houses bounded them on both sides, the noise from hundreds of clattering hooves, the shouts of angry drivers and chairmen forcing their way through, and the cheers and hoots of spectators lining the street was so loud as to overwhelm them.
    Banners and streamers floated from the roofs and windows, while cavalry officers in colourful coats trotted by. Sedans and horses crowded just outside their windows. Every coach was freshly painted, most with gilt, and glimpses of their occupants revealed a rainbow of new silks and satins, shoulder-length periwigs—some powdered and some not—and well-rouged faces with patches artfully placed. Ladies and gentlemen both fluttered their fragile chicken-skin fans for the day was warm, while others languidly waved their handkerchiefs from fingers ringed in gold. Bishops, ambassadors, and judges nodded gravely from their seats. Feathered hats, lace ruffles, and clouded canes stood in relief against a velvet tableau.
    As the Hawkhurst carriage inched forward, Isabella and her mother exclaimed at the jewels they saw. Isabella was wearing a close-fitting necklace of diamonds set in gold with matching pendant earrings, which had belonged to St. Mars’s mother. The buckles on Harrowby’s shoes were encrusted with diamonds, rubies sparkled from his heels, and the sword hanging from his hip had a hilt that was jeweled and gilt.
     Among the people who had gathered to watch the nobility arrive, Hester spied members of the Life-Guards and Horse-Grenadiers. They had been stationed among the crowds in both Westminster and London to discourage rioting. Harrowby had learned that morning that constables and beadles were also to be posted at corners to preserve the peace.
    Thus far, all seemed well. The watchers, crammed along both sides of the street between the buildings and carriages, cheered mightily for King George, but Hester had no doubt that some demonstrations against him would occur in the counties at least. With so many guards on duty here, however, it would be foolhardy for the Jacobites to start a riot.
    Eventually, amidst the clamour and the