Amongst the invitations arriving at Cadogan Place was one from the Hon. Mrs Guinness to attend a ball at 10 Buckingham Street, which had caused Amber a pang of anxious guilt, and worry that Lady Rutland might wonder how Diana Guinness had come to be sending them an invitation, or even worse, that somehow or other it might come out that she had met Amber at the Ritz, until Lady Rutland had remarked that there was a family connection between her own late mother and Diana’s family, the Mitfords.
‘We have been invited as well,’ Beth had informed Amber, when Amber had told her about the invitation. ‘My mother’s family are connected to the Guinnesses, although Mummy is a bit concerned about me going.’ Beth had pulled a small face. ‘I don’t think Mummy approves of the fact that Diana is so very modern, but I think she is such fun. My mother’s godson is part of that set and he says that she gives the most wonderful parties.’ Beth giggled. ‘To be honest I don’t think that Mummy always approves of Teddy either, but of course she can’t say so, and since he has insisted on accompanying us she can hardly refuse. I’m looking forward to it.’
‘So am I,’ Amber had agreed fervently.
It was nearly a week since she’d last seen Lord Robert, and she missed him dreadfully, although he had warned her that he was having to go away for a few days.
She may have told Beth that she was looking forward to the Guinness party, but right now, as she stood in front of her bedroom mirror whilst Renton finished fastening the buttons of her kid gloves, prior to Amber leaving for the ball, Amber acknowledged ruefully that what she was actually feeling came closer to nervousness.
Amber’s Norman Hartnell gown was a soft eau-de-Nil. The bodice was trimmed with rows of tiny crystal drops that shone in the light, and was modestly high-necked, but the skirt was rather dashingly cut on the bias.
Over it Amber would be wearing a matching draped satin bolero jacket several shades darker than her dress, but lined in exactly the same eau-de-Nil satin.
Her hair had been dressed in soft curls, the pins securing it decorated with small individual crystals to complement those on the bodice of her dress.
Her matching satin purse was just the right size to hold a dance card, a handkerchief and a small bottle of scent. Lady Rutland did not approve of makeup, although Amber knew that Louise ignored her mother’s disapproval and wore lipstick.
‘Are you sure I look all right, Renton?’ Amber asked her maid anxiously. She had found the maid a little stern and formidable at first, but she had quickly come to value her judgement and her good taste, and had soon found that she was turning to Renton for the answers to her questions on matters of etiquette in high society with which she was unfamiliar, rather than Lady Rutland. Renton, Amber had learned, had grown up on the estate of the Earl of Rads-bury in Norfolk and had gone into service with the countess at fourteen, determinedly working her way up through the household hierarchy until a vacancy as a lady’s maid to one of the countess’s friends had brought her to London, and then to Cadogan Place when her previous mistress had died.
Renton had told Amber that she had been on the point of returning to Norfolk to share a cottage with her sister, who was now retired, when she had been interviewed by Amber’s grandmother.
‘I could see straight away that Mrs Pickford knew what was what,’ Renton had told Amber, surprising her with the approval she could hear in her voice, ‘and that she knew how to treat a person properly.’
Amber acknowledged that she was glad that her grandmother had chosen Renton to be her maid.
‘You look just as you should,’ Renton told her now, giving Amber one of her very rare smiles. Amber felt that, in her own way, Renton was every bit as formidable as her grandmother.
The road outside the Guinnesses’ house was filled with chauffeur-driven cars conveying guests to the party, but whilst Louise was anxious to get out of the car and impatient at the delay, Amber was content to gaze wide-eyed at people whom she recognised from the newspapers and the society magazines; people like Emerald Cunard, who was wearing what Amber knew immediately must be a Schiaparelli gown, white satin with a black satin cape. Eventually their car was close enough to the entrance to the house for them to get out, Lady Rutland’s gown of puce satin rustling stiffly as they climbed the front steps.
Once inside, a smiling maid offered to relieve them of their wraps.
Amber’s eyes widened when she saw how low-cut Louise’s rose-pink gown was, surely much lower than when they had had their fittings.
The elegant reception room on the first floor was filled with so many people that the sheer volume of their conversation made it impossible to hear the music from the quartet playing in the antechamber.
A waiter carrying a tray of glasses came towards them.
‘Cocktail, madam?’
Amber looked uncertainly at the bright green liquid, but Louise was already reaching for a glass whilst her mother, who was engaged in conversation with another chaperone, had her back to her. She had finished her drink and picked up a second by the time Lady Rutland joined them.
Amber was relieved to see Beth, but her relief turned to amazement and delight when she saw who was standing at the countess’s side.
Lord Robert!
Confusingly, though, the countess was asking Lady Rutland if she might introduce ‘her godson’ and Amber had no idea what to say when the familiar hand, white-gloved tonight, of course, took her own.
‘Amber, my dear, please allow me to introduce to you my godson, Lord Robert Devenish, the Earl of Montclare. Teddy, Miss Amber Vrontsky.’
Amber held her breath, praying that Lady Rutland would not recognise in Lord Robert Devenish the professor who had been attending Cadogan Place, whilst her own head spun dizzily with the shock of discovering that ‘her’ Lord Robert was also Beth’s ‘Teddy’.
Lord Robert was smiling at her. ‘Miss Vrontsky, I do hope I can look forward to the pleasure of dancing with you later?’
He had that mischievous look in his eyes that Amber now knew so well. Her heart was beating giddily fast.
Before she could answer him, though, the countess said firmly, ‘You may dance with Amber, Teddy, but you are not to introduce her to those rackety friends of yours.’
‘Cecil would be most hurt if he heard you describing him as merely rackety, Aunt Phoebe. He likes to think of himself as positively dissipated,’ replied Robert, laughing.
The countess gave him a reproving look. ‘Well, I dare say that your grandfather would agree with him.’
Immediately his expression changed, the amusement dying out of his eyes, to be replaced by a hard blankness that made his handsome features look as though they had been carved from stone. Amber was shocked. She had never seen him look so formidable and withdrawn.
‘Louise’s gown is fearfully low-cut, isn’t it?’ Beth whispered to Amber under cover of her mother’s conversation with ‘Teddy’. ‘I’m surprised her mother allowed it.’
‘It wasn’t like that when we went for our last fittings,’ Amber whispered back.
‘It makes her look very fast. No wonder George Ponsonby’s made a beeline for her.’
Amber looked over to where Louise was standing talking to a dark-haired man of medium height. As it had done before, something in Louise’s manner made Amber feel uncomfortable.
‘Just look at how close to him she’s standing.’ Beth looked scandalised. ‘Mummy was talking about George Ponsonby last week. She says that he’s a fortune-hunter and an adventurer, and not to be trusted. There was a terrible scandal a couple of years ago when this poor girl had told all her friends that they were going to be engaged, and then he just dropped her. Her family had to send her abroad. There was talk of … you know …’
‘What?’