Before the Storm by Melanie Clegg Page B

grasp.
    ‘Have you ever seen them at a party that you have been to?’ Sidonie asked a little impatiently. ‘The fact of the matter is that the Garland girls and their friends, Phoebe and Matilda are somewhat outside society as you are fortunate enough to know it. They have wealth, accomplishments and beauty in abundance but as you well know, that is not enough to secure them a position in the very highest society.’
    Jules nodded as understanding gradually dawned. ‘Oh, I see,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘I had no idea. I never noticed.’ He put away the snuff box and turned to Sidonie. ‘So what do you want me to do about it?’
    ‘I thought that was obvious, ‘ Sidonie replied. ‘I want you to secure invitations for them all.’
    Jules looked wary. ‘I am afraid that I don’t have much influence though, Sidonie,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘Lady D’Eversley is a very old friend but I am afraid that it will be difficult to persuade her to invite four girls of whom she knows nothing to her ball.’ He sighed, seeing from her face that she intractable. ‘Fine. I see that I have no choice in the matter so what do you, oh clever Mademoiselle Roche, propose that I do?’
    ‘How you go about it is up to you,’ Sidonie replied with a small shrug, straightening her plain green wool shawl and preparing to go. ‘But I would have thought though that a man with four younger sisters would know just what to do in a situation like this.’ Smiling faintly, she offered him her hand as he stared down at her in confusion. ‘Now, I really must go as it is almost time to collect Clementine from her lesson.’
    She smiled to herself as she walked back along the gravel path, knowing full well that he was watching her go but not daring to look back and see what expression was on his face. She hoped that he was smiling too though and for a brief moment she fondly recollected the uncertain, mawkish boy that he had once been all those years ago when they had fancied themselves to be in love.

Chapter Eight

    The invitations arrived at Highbury Place a few days later, delivered by hand by the Comte Jules himself who bestowed them with a charming wink upon the eldest Miss Garland. ‘I believe that my friend Lady D’Eversley has been somewhat remiss in getting these to you,’ he murmured as he handed them over.
    Eliza opened the packet and reverently pulled out the two precious stiff gold edged ivory invitations before giving him a swift look of surprise. ‘But...’
    ‘Sssh.’ Jules grinned and placed a finger on her lips. ‘Venetia has enclosed a note explaining it all.’ He turned to Sidonie, who was sitting in the corner of the drawing room with a book, pretending not to hear anything. ‘I trust that you are well, Mademoiselle Roche?’ he enquired mischievously.  
    Sidonie briefly looked up, affecting some surprise that he should address her so directly in public. ‘Very well, thank you, Monsieur le Comte.’ She quickly dropped her eyes to her book again but there was time enough for him to see that they brimmed with amused gratitude.
    The next few weeks passed in a delicious whirl of excited preparations for the grand ball. Mrs Garland in particular was beside herself with delight as she dealt with hairdressers, modistes , florists and cobblers then, most thrillingly of all, sent for some of her finest jewels which were kept in a bank vault in the city. ‘I am quite determined that our lovely Eliza should wear my best diamonds,’ she told her spouse over dinner. ‘Clementine would look well in the Indian rubies you gave me when she was born. I always intended that she should have them one day.’
    ‘No, not the rubies,’ Mr Garland said with a brief and unusual flash of interest as he poured himself a glass of red wine from a carafe at his elbow. ‘Pearls.’ He looked fondly down the table to his youngest daughter, who was eating apple charlotte with great relish. ‘Save the rubies until she is