He stopped upon seeing her, blinking a few times and then smiling anew. "I seem to have lost my way." he said, staring at Mira with rapt attention. She made no reply, her eyes dark with confusion.
"Well… Carr Falkner," Rosalie said, and came to stand by Mira. "How pleasant it is to find you here."'Lady Berkeley," the man answered, his eyes still on Mira, "it seems to be a day for pleasant discoveries." Nudging Mira imperceptibly, Rosalie made the proper introductions, and Mira allowed the stranger to take her small cold hand in his warm one. Carr Falkner, she thought, recovering very slowly from her surprise. If there were any other Falkners here at the Pavilion, she prayed that she would receive more advance warn-ing. for coming face-to-face with someone resembling Alec so closely was almost more than she could bear. No matter how darkly attractive any of the Falkners were, none of them would be anything but a disappointing imitation of Alec.
"He is a cousin of the Duke of Stafford," Rosalie whispered to Mira. "Perhaps you recall the duke… ?" You mean the one I accompanied during the sleighing party? Mira thought numbly. The one I fell in love with during Sackville's hunt? The one who knows my deepest secrets, the one who took my virginity? Yes, I believe I can recall him. …
* * *
Chapter Ten
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"We must be careful," Rosalie said, looking in
the full-length mirror and adjusting the magnificent lace-trimmed bodice of her velvet gown. Mary, the maid who had come with them from Berkeley Hall, knelt by her and made a few small repairs to the hem of her gown with needle and thread. "Tonight I am going to find a way to speak to Canning about Brummell—during the dancing, perhaps. But I'll need your help—and remember, this must be done in complete secrecy. Any sort of untoward or unusual behavior is going to be noticed tonight, since there is always a great deal of scheming going on at affairs like this— this is the perfect environment in which to breed scandals."
"That isn't surprising," Mira replied, pinning a small green velvet hat on her head and angling it at a coquettish tilt. "It's a masquerade, and everyone feels quite daring in a disguise, all of us supposing that we 1 can look out at the world while no one else can look 1 in"
"Wrong," Rosalie said flatly. "I can see through even the best disguises—there are always telling clues, For example, the king will be the one with the enor- I mous belly, and the blond by his side will be Lady 1 Conyngham."
Mira winced at the venom in Rosalie's tone. It was not like Rosalie to say an unkind or undiplomatic word about anyone, but it seemed that not only theking but also all of his close associates bore the brunt her contempt. "Who is Lady Conyngham?" "His latest mistress. He has given her the title of "Lady Steward,' and the two pretend that she is merely the mistress of his household, while it's commonly known, even to her husband, that she shares his bed." Rosalie shook her head disgustedly. "What men see in women like her escapes me. She is vain, silly, greedy, and she encourages the king in all of his worst habits. He is killing himself from overeating and then overdosing himself with opium and bark brandy to cure his indigestion—"
"Opium and bark brandy!" Mira exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. "A dram of powdered galanga would help a great deal more than that to—"
"I hope he consumes all the brandy he wants," Rosalie said, shrugging carelessly. "I hope he becomes so fat and indolent that he cannot move. Because of him, my father is in exile in France and will likely starve to death. Did you see how thin Brummell was? He used to weigh thirteen or fourteen stone, and I don't think he was over nine or ten stone when we saw him!"
"Rosalie…" Mira said cautiously, "I would advise keeping your voice lowered when you speak either of Brummell or of the king."
Suddenly Rosalie laughed. "Are you afraid I'll be Ranged for treason, Mira?"
"Worse. I'm afraid Lord Berkeley will overhear you talking about our misadventure."
At the mention of her husband, Rosalie's eyes widened. "Heavens, the time has slipped away from me! Let me finish telling you about my plan before Rand gets here. When I contrive to have a few minutes alone with Canning, I'm going to ask him about finding a position for Brummell in Calais, just as Lord Alvanley suggested. Or perhaps Caen—"
"But how are you going to accomplish that withoutyour husband noticing, and what about all of those who might see you and Canning sneak away, and put the wrong construction on the situation—"