previous decade, but as it was we had to overlap our skirts to fit in. The skirts of Richard’s rich, blue coat were full behind, pleated into two great jewelled buttons at the back, but were much easier to handle.

We drove to the Assembly rooms in high excitement, although I tried hard to calm my nerves. I wanted to look serene and happy, not as excited as an ingénue, and I’d managed to steady my breathing and smooth my excitement to some extent by the time we arrived.

When Richard handed me out of the carriage I looked with new eyes at the building, the scene of so many of my disappointments and humiliations. As usual on an Assembly night, it glowed with light in the growing dusk, and some local people were gathered around, curious to see the great and the not-so-good (but rich) of the county as they arrived.

We moved into the light of the flaming torches set outside the front door, and the crowd drew its collective breath. It was sweet to hear. I put my hand on Richard’s arm and we passed inside, to be greeted by the master of ceremonies.

Chapter Ten

The master of ceremonies had never bowed so low to me before. I adored it, the man who used to favour me with a polite but brief nod, now giving me all his attention. I accepted his congratulations with a gracious inclination of my head, and slowly ascended the stairs, leaning on Richard’s arm. Richard took his most intimidating form; stunningly adorned in gleaming blue satin, exquisite French lace foaming over the backs of his elegantly disposed hands and at his neck. Diamonds glittered at his throat and his knee, and he wore an expression of hauteur on his handsome face, the fashionable society appearance I should try to cultivate. But I knew him now, and he didn’t intimidate me.

James and Martha walked in front of us. Martha showed to advantage tonight. She had powdered her hair, while I had daringly left mine bare, but the effect gave her more gravitas somehow, more dignity. A smile hovered under my self-control as I allowed Richard to escort me into the ballroom. I wanted to enter it as grandly as he did.

When James and Martha were announced a hush fell in the room beyond, previously humming with voices. We couldn’t see them yet, but I knew every eye must be turned to the door. This was the first time James and Martha had attended the Assembly since they inherited the title of Lord and Lady Hareton. We gave them their pause at the door, and Martha smiled and nodded. She had taken her new fortune in her stride, although she hadn’t wished for it, and she deserved every second of this, her grand entrance.

Then it was our turn. When we were announced the few voices quietly murmuring paused. A sudden hush stilled the voices, almost like a gasp for air.

I crested the top of the stairs. The room blazed with light from the dozens of candles set in the great chandelier and the wall brackets. Every face turned up to us. I hoped Richard could feel my happiness and thought then how shy and fearful I might have been without him, how I might still have been passed over, despite my new status. After all, a spinster aunt was a spinster aunt, whether the sister of an earl or the distant cousin of one. But the affianced wife of a viscount, the heir to a great earldom, was a different prospect entirely. Especially on the arm of the handsomest man in the room, and wearing diamonds.

I nodded graciously to the gaggle of girls gathered together by the large fireplace; their usual spot. They were my erstwhile tormentors. I tasted my triumph, felt the sweetness of revenge in my mouth. Petty, I know, but at that moment it felt like the greatest public triumph of my life.

We descended the stairs into the room at a leisurely pace and I heard Lizzie’s and Gervase’s names called out.

Her arrival filled the room with a buzz—it always did, and the sight of Gervase, closely following his twin, created a sensation. I stopped when we were clear of the stairs to glance back. Lizzie was having a wonderful time. She smiled and bowed to her acquaintances as she descended the stairs on Gervase’s arm. Gervase, suave in brown velvet, glanced at me and I saw the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Richard smiled to see my pleasure. “Happy with your reception?”

“It makes up for a lot,” I confessed.

Richard surveyed the room, taking his time, ignoring those people who were ill-mannered enough to stare at us. “I see someone I know. May I make you known to him? He’s a particular friend of mine.”

He took me to a man who stood with one or two others by the side of the room. From their dress and demeanour, I assumed they were from Richard’s circle of friends. They were elegantly attired in the height of fashion, jewels casually winking on their clothes and in their hair. When we approached, they all bowed. It was a pretty sight; the precious jewels and gold and silver embroidery gleamed and flashed in the candlelight. “Richard,” the man said.

“Freddy,” he acknowledged, then he introduced me.

I curtseyed, they bowed and I found “Freddy” was Sir Frederick Brean, Baron Thwaite, who seemed to be on good terms with my betrothed.

“So this is the latest future Lady Strang.”

I looked at him, startled, but to my surprise Richard didn’t take offence. “Indeed. And if I have anything