Devil-May-Dare. Mary Nichols
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engrossed in conversation with a modishly dressed lady in a barouche across the railing which divided the Row from the carriageway. They were laughing together, oblivious to others around them. Lydia reined in; she was in no mood to exchange polite nonsense when all she could think of was that foolish wager. He looked up and their glances met and held. Disconcerted, she wheeled her mount away and cantered off.
Finding herself in what might pass in the metropolis for open country, she set the horse to gallop with Scrivens vainly trying to keep up. ‘It won’t do, Miss Lydia,’ he called after her. ‘It won’t do. At ’ome in Raventrees it don’ matter, but in London…’ When she returned home she was in a much better humour and even the scolding her aunt gave her for being late for nuncheon failed to dampen her spirits.
It was Tom who managed to do that. She met him on the stairs on her way to change out of her habit. His face was grey from lack of sleep, his hair was tousled and his cravat tied so carelessly it resembled nothing so much as a dishcloth. ‘Tom, have you been up all night?’ she demanded.
‘Got caught up in a game at White’s,’ he said.
‘Oh, Tom, you haven’t lost a great deal of money, have you?’ She looked directly into his face, but he could not meet her eye. ‘Oh, you buffle-head! What will Papa say?’
He caught her hand and pulled her into his room, where he shut the door firmly. ‘It ain’t that much and he need never know.’
‘How much?’
He hesitated, then mumbled, ‘Five hundred.’
‘Five hundred!’ she squeaked, shocked to the core. ‘How could you possibly have let it happen? Did you give them vowels?’
‘Yes. I promised to pay by the end of the month.’
‘How? Your allowance will never cover it.’
He smiled sheepishly. ‘No, but I thought of a capital hum. I wagered five hundred that you would persuade Lady Thornton you were an eligible bachelor and would stand up with Miss Thornton at a ball.’
‘You did what?’ She sat down heavily on the bed, hardly able to believe her ears.
‘You can do it, you know you can,’ he went on, unperturbed. ‘It’s only like playing charades.’
She was almost angry enough to slap him. ‘Who did you make this outrageous bet with?’
‘Douglas Fincham. I have either to give him five hundred guineas by the end of the month or you have to become a man for an evening.’
She stared up at him. ‘Oh, Tom, Tom, what have you done?’
‘It was your idea in the first place, or I would never have thought of it.’
‘It was a cork-brained idea. I changed my mind almost at once and decided to pay you the twenty pounds and forget the whole thing.’
‘But Lydia, you can’t,’ he said in anguish. ‘It will ruin me. I shall never hear the last of it. I shall be ostracised.’
‘Serve you right.’
‘Oh, Lydia, you can’t mean that. I’ve got you out of any number of scrapes in the past…’
‘Childish pranks,’ she said with asperity. ‘They were not like this at all.’ She paused as the implication of what he had done came to her. How could she face everyone if it became public knowledge that she fancied herself as a man? She would lose what friends she had and the Marquis of Longham would be confirmed in his belief that she was the most outrageous hoyden in the country. She would never be able to look into those searching eyes again. ‘Did you enter it in the betting book for all the world to see?’
‘No, for it would not do for it to become public or Lady Thornton might hear of it. It was a private bet.’ He stood looking down at her, unable to believe that she was prepared to renege on a wager; such a thing was unheard of, either for her or for him or anyone else who valued their reputation. ‘That don’t mean it don’t have to be honoured,’ he said. ‘Besides, Fincham…’
‘You could not have chosen a worse person to gamble with,’ she put in sharply. ‘He will never keep his tongue between his teeth if you do not pay up.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ he said miserably.
‘We can’t let it come to that.’
He brightened considerably. ‘You’ll do it?’
‘I have only to deceive Lady Thornton?’ she queried, her heart sinking. ‘I may take Miss Thornton into my confidence?’
‘No, you have to convince everyone and that includes Miss Thornton,’ he said. ‘And you have to complete the dance and leave undiscovered.’
‘Supposing I cannot do it?’
‘Oh, you can, you know you can. Oh, Lydia, do this for me, I beg you.’
‘I don’t see why I should make a fool of myself so that you may not make a fool of yourself,’ she said. ‘You must tell Papa.’
‘Lydia, I’ll die sooner than do that. Please…’
‘How many other people know of this wager?’
‘Only Frank Burford and a steward at the club.’
‘Frank?’ she queried. ‘Is he in it too?’
‘Well, you know old Frank. He must needs put his stake in.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘He has already seen you in disguise, don’t forget.’
‘In the schoolroom! That hardly counts and, besides, I had costumes and make-up there.’
‘What costumes and make-up do you want? I’ll undertake to obtain them for you. It would not do for you to be seen buying such things.’
‘I don’t know, I shall have to think about it. How am I to disguise curves I should not have and fill out those places where I am lacking…?’
‘A tight waistcoat, padded shoulders and a little more fullness in the breeches. I am sure you can contrive.’
‘Does it have to be a ball or will a small supper dance suffice?’
‘It was not stipulated.’
‘Then we will aim for a quiet evening where the lighting is likely to be more subdued than at a grand affair and the fashions need not be so up to the mark.’
‘Then you will do it!’ It was surprising how his weariness left him and his face came alight at the prospect of this burden being lifted from his shoulders. ‘Oh, Sis, I knew you would. You’ve saved my bacon.’
‘Only if I succeed.’ It was madness to contemplate it, she knew, but if she could pull it off and the young Comte de Clancy was afterwards to disappear never to be seen again no harm would be done and Papa need never know what a young fool his son had been. ‘I ought to have a rehearsal,’ she said. ‘Somewhere where we are not known.’
‘I heard there is a fair on the Heath; what say you to that, two young men out for a lark?’
‘Oh, very well,’ she agreed, entering into the spirit of it now the die was cast. ‘But how shall we get out of the house?’
In the event it was not difficult, because Mrs Wenthorpe decided to retire early after the exertions of the previous evening and as soon as she was safely in her room with a late-night drink of chocolate Lydia hurried to Tom’s room, where she borrowed one of his suits of clothes and took it back to her own bedchamber.
There was very little difference in their height although he was broader than she was. A little padding in the shoulders of the frockcoat and a sash, half hidden by the waistcoat, to pull in the waist of the pantaloons soon put that right. That done, she surveyed herself in the long glass and then began on her face. Lampblack was used to emphasise her brows and make them thicker and the dregs from her coffee-cup