Deceiving the Viscount

Chapter 8A

Julia flicked her fan back and forth with more force than was appropriate. Not because she was desperate to send a signal to a man on the other side of the ballroom, but because she felt overheated in the Assembly Rooms of Almack's. There were just too many people here tonight for her liking, and there was hardly any air. She felt like she could barely breathe.

She tried to surreptitiously shift her corset so there she might have more room to breathe, but the blasted thing seemed to be laced tighter than usual.

After a few more unsuccessful attempts — during which she must have poked about half a dozen other attendees, enough to earn her some stares and glares — she gave up, annoyance clawing at her already frayed nerves. If she expired on the spot, that would be her Mama's fault, not hers.

A footman with a tray full of drinks passed by and she quickly plucked one. Sipping the only slightly chilled orgeat lemonade hardly provided any sort of relief from the stifling heat. Fanning herself more vigorously now, she was beginning to despair of ever getting any relief.

Someone bumped into her from behind and the sweet, sticky liquid sloshed over the rim of her glass, landing very unfortunately on her dress. "Oh!" She yelped, as did the person who caused the accident.

"My apologies!" Julia turned around to see a very comely woman about her age, covering her mouth with both hands, her pretty green eyes wide with contrition. Her strawberry blond coiffure was held in place by a simple mother-of-pearl comb that sparkled prettily in the warm candlelight. "I'm so terribly sorry!" She noticed the spreading water mark that stained Julia's white silk dress. "Oh dear. It's gotten onto your lovely clothes." The dismay was evident in her voice. "Come," her hand was stretched out towards Julia, "we'd best get it out quickly before it becomes a permanent stain. Here, hand me your drink so we can put it away to prevent any further incidents."

Julia nodded dumbly, and did as she was told. Then, without any warning, the handsomest woman she'd ever laid her eyes on took her hand. "Follow me," she said. Julia following compliantly like a young puppy trotting after its owner. This hadn't happened to her before. Would her dress be ruined forever? And it was one of her favourites at that.

They somehow made it to the retiring room without any further accidents despite the crush. Julia was led to a chair. "Sit here, and I'll have a maid fetch some water and a cloth."

Happy to have a place to sit and be away from the crowd, she took what she felt was her first real breath of the night, paying no attention to the other women milling about, gossiping and tittering behind open fans.

The other woman was back soon with a housemaid who knelt at her feet with a basin of water. "She will help to dab out the sweet drink from your dress so that the fabric won't be damaged much. When you return home, you can have your lady's maid wash it properly then." At Julia's nod, she smiled then began directing the maid on what to do.

When she was satisfied with the servant's ministrations, she turned her attention back to Julia. "We haven't been introduced before and society dictates that a mutual acquaintance be the one to ensure we know one another. But I do know that this is a most unusual circumstance. So, I shall introduce myself. My name is Mrs Brookfield." She curtsied most beautifully and Julia felt a little stab of envy at her grace, though it shouldn't have surprised her that a woman whose countenance was so pleasing should have anything less than perfect poise. "I'm most delighted to meet you." Her smile was warm and friendly like an invitation to bask in the glow of the setting sun.

Since she couldn't rise from her seat, Julia nodded and return the smile, though she doubted her was anywhere near as charming or pretty. "A pleasure indeed, Mrs Brookfield. And I am Miss Julia Marlowe. Thank you for your quick thinking and assistance."