Who was she? He certainly didn’t believe she had planned this ball.
Enough of this. “I’m going to get the Duchess.” It was past time she was brought into this.
Once he was out of the library he did his best at smoothing the scowl from his face, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was because by the time he found the Duchess of Kensington men and ladies alike were making way for him as though he was Moses and they were the Red Sea.
The Duchess of Kensington pursed her lips at his request to accompany him. She must have heard the rumours already. In the end, she gave a nod, excused herself from her friends and placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to escort her from the room. They didn’t say a word to each other. Jasper had the distinct impression she knew what she was needed for.
At last the Duchess of Kensington was on her way. This would be sorted out in a matter of minutes.
Grace sat back down on the settee and placed her hands in her lap, pretending they didn’t throb from just moments before drawing blood with them. Really, it was all that man’s fault. If he’d just let her leave, he wouldn’t be sporting a black eye, bloody nose and split lip.
No one spoke. Lady Harrison sat in a chair across from her and Lord Harrison dabbed a hanky at his lip. They all watched the grandfather clock at the far wall. It was exactly twenty minutes before the door of the library opened.
Grace’s heart fell. The lady Jasper brought with him was not the Duchess of Kensington. This lady was short and slightly dumpy, although her costume was exquisite. She wore a blue silk period dress with a sliver lace overlay. But the best part of her outfit was her blue shoes playing peek-a-boo as she walked. Grace wondered if she’d had it especially made for the ball or if she rented it from a costume shop for the night. The Duchess of Kensington, whom she had been meeting with all week, was tall, slender and blonde. This lady was grey-haired and past her prime; Grace could see her wrinkles from here. And since Grace had talked to her about an hour or so before the kiss she knew the Duchess didn’t have nearly as charming a dress on as this lady.
Grace rose from her seat as the elderly woman made her way towards her. The lady was so proper that Grace couldn’t decide whether she should bob a curtsy or not. Maybe she was related to the Queen. You never knew at these types of events who you could run into.
“Miss Lancaster, may I present the Duchess of Kensington?” Jasper watched her face closely for her reaction. He wouldn’t have been disappointed by the shock that ricocheted through her body. Her mouth was stuck in the open position. But there was no way she could manage to close it, until she realised this must be the Duke of Kensington’s mother. She shut her jaw with a snap.
“How do you do, your grace? It is so nice to meet you. I have really enjoyed working with your daughter-in-law, organising this event.”
“Eh? I’m not aware of having a daughter-in-law. Who is it that you have been conversing with, Miss Lancaster?” The elderly lady leaned in close with a quizzical eye.
“The company I work for, Sinclair Functions Ltd, has been working closely with Jane, Duchess of Kensington to put together this fantastic fundraising event this evening. And I must say it has been an absolute pleasure to organise such an amazing…um…event.” Everyone in the room was staring at her as though she had lost her mind completely. “Is there something amiss?”
“Once again I must reiterate that I have no daughter-in-law and that I have never heard of a ‘Jane, Duchess of Kensington’. I think, my dear, you are confused and that it’s best if you sit down.” The lady led Grace back to her seat and sat next to her. “Lord Bingham!” the lady commanded. “Go and find my butler, Harvey, and tell him I require his services in the library, please.” She patted Grace’s hand. “Lady Harrison, fetch that blanket by the fire, will you, dear? And Lord Harrison, make yourself useful and fetch us all a glass of sherry.”
The world had stopped. Grace could feel herself falling. Everything was spinning around her. All she could think was ‘am I going crazy?’ Her vision narrowed, everything lost focus and her world slowly turned to black.
Conversation and laughter quieted to an eerie silence as the foursome emerged from the library. Mrs Barrett had made certain the scene she had been privy to was spread to all her dearest friends. Of course she was shocked, simply shocked, she would say, at Bingham’s behaviour. She couldn’t say anything at all about the American however. Americans are very crass, don’t you know?
Everyone in the room stopped to watch the foursome leave the ball. Once the door shut behind them the room burst into animated conversation with the ladies whispering and giggling behind their fans and the men smiling knowingly to each other. The infamous Lord Bingham had finally been brought down by a woman.
Lord Bingham escorted Grace past the throng of spectators, his hand warm upon her back. She welcomed his support as she passed each curious face, so much so that she found herself leaning into his side. But she stopped dead when the front door opened before them.
What was going on?
The street was lined with horse-drawn carriages. The streetlights held flames, not the steady glow of light bulbs. Snow lay thick on the ground and smoke from many fireplaces filled the air. This was not the London she knew. She had arrived here this afternoon in a cab, and the streets had been packed with noisy cars and trucks. Where were they now?
“Miss Lancaster?” Lord Bingham’s voice was warm against her ear. “Come, our carriage is waiting.” He led her down the steps of the Manor and handed her into the carriage. He followed her in and settled himself beside her. Lord and Lady Harrison were already seated across from them.
She gazed out the window of the carriage and saw the streets filled with more carriages and carts and horses. She looked across to the other seat at her companions. She studied their clothes. She didn’t think they were wearing costumes like she was. She could feel the zipper against her skin. Lady Harrison’s dress had buttons down the back; she noticed them when she was led from the library. This was all too much for her to take in.
Grace frantically dug into the purse attached to her wrist. She fumbled for her cell phone and desperately tried to get a signal. It was no use. There was no signal. Things were not right here. In fact they were very, very wrong! She felt the panic begin to rise in her throat again but before it could overtake her, the carriage stopped and the coachman opened the door to reveal a grand house.
“Welcome to our home, Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said as she turned to welcome her guest down from the carriage.
Grace felt her mouth fall open; she had never seen such a huge house. In the dark it was magnificent, all lit up. Looking all the way up to the roof hurt her neck. She had read all about Mayfair in the romances she used to read, and she always pictured town houses all stuck together, but to actually be here and see these grand houses for herself was something else entirely.
As Lord Bingham led her up the steps with his hand once again on the small of her back, a distinguished-looking gentleman opened the door of the house.
“Good evening, Hoskins, this is Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said to her butler once he had closed the door behind them.
The old man turned his eye to her and bowed at the waist. Grace expected to hear him creak as he straightened but for such an elderly man he seemed agile enough. “Pleased to meet you, miss.”
“It is very nice to meet you too, Mr