Beauty and the Baron. Deborah Hale

When I proposed the idea last night, I had rather a lot of champagne in me.”

      “Tipsy or sober, it was a brilliant suggestion, my dear.”

      They had come to a fork in the path. The earl tugged Angela toward the south lawn.

      “What ballroom in the kingdom can compare to this?” He raised his walking stick in a sweeping gesture.

      Angela had passed this way many times. A few years ago, when the earl had been stronger, the two of them had often played pall-mall here on summer evenings. Now, looking at the south lawn in a new light, she had to agree it was perfectly suited to what she’d imagined.

      The broad, tiled terrace would make an ideal area for dancing, while the lawn itself was so smooth and flat it could easily be set with clusters of small tables and chairs. As for the ornamental trees that ringed the lawn…

      The earl pointed toward them. “What would you think of hanging small tin lanterns from the branches?”

      “Like fairy lights—marvellous!”

      They enjoyed a leisurely walk, planning where the musicians should set up and where the supper buffet should go. They discussed the guest list at length, though most names the earl mentioned Angela only knew by reputation. Suddenly she was pleased on her own account that she’d suggested a masquerade.

      All these illustrious guests might be less intimidating dressed up in fanciful costumes. In her own disguise, she might be able to pretend she was someone else. Not some countrified spinster living on the charity of wealthy relations, but a fine lady worthy to be the bride of a baron. If that didn’t work, she could at least hope her mask might hide the worst of her alarm.