Refining Felicity by MC Beaton

ever sent
her
such odd presents. Gentlemen had always sent her flowers or poems. So Amy had put the cobra in a cupboard under the glass-fronted bookshelves in the drawing room.
    Effy had been poking about, looking for a spare vase. She had opened the cupboard, found herself faced with the stuffed cobra, and had started to scream the place down. Everyone came running and the air was full of a babble of screams and cries. A footman, taking one horrified look at the thing in the cupboard, had fled to return with a blunderbuss. He fired at the cobra, but missed the cupboard completely and peppered a portrait of the third Marchioness of Ravenswood with a volley of nails.
    By the time Effy was calm enough to hear Amy’s explanation, the Marquess of Ravenswood had arrived, unheralded, on the scene, having decided to make one of his impromptu visits to London.
    He found himself hard put not to laugh as Amy proudly stood guard over the horrible stuffed snake and said defiantly it was
her
present and no one was to touch it.
    Meanwhile, wild rumours were circulating in the servants’ hall, and the shaking chambermaid, Charlotte, was convinced someone was dead.
    Her poor head, stuffed by Felicity with romantic tales, led her to believe that Felicity had taken her own life. She rushed up to the drawing room and flung herself weeping on the middle of the carpet and begged for mercy.
    There were more screams and cries for explanation. Charlotte cried out that she had known they would drive Lady Felicity to her death with their persecution and they could kill her as well.
    Amy took charge, pushing the shocked and enraged butler away. She smoothed the chambermaid’s hair and raised her up and asked her gently and patiently to begin at the beginning and tell them what Felicity had said, assuring the girl over and over again that Lady Felicity was well.
    In a halting voice, Charlotte told her story, of how Felicity planned to escape, and of how she had bought her men’s clothes.
    ‘Get Lady Felicity here immediately,’ ordered the marquess.
    They all waited. Then Humphrey returned to say Lady Felicity had gone.
    ‘You may pack your bits and pieces and leave immediately,’ said the butler to Charlotte.
    ‘No,’ said Amy. ‘The girl stays. Felicity’s played a wicked trick on the silly child. Now, where’s she gone?’
    Humphrey surveyed them, a look of dismay on his face. ‘My lord,’ he said, turning to the marquess. ‘Just before I heard Miss Effy scream, there was a fellow in the hall. He said he was Lady Felicity’s brother. I said Lady Felicity did not have a brother and was about to ring for help when all the fuss started and I ran upstairs.’
    ‘It must have been that wretched girl in disguise,’ said the marquess. ‘What did she look like?’
    ‘But it could not be she,’ said Humphrey. ‘My lord, this person had whiskers.’
    ‘Have you never heard of false whiskers, man?’ demanded the marquess. ‘There is even a shop which supplies them to the cavalry. What colour were they? What was she wearing?’
    ‘It is dark in the hall, my lord,’ said Humphrey, ‘but a ray of sunlight shone on the whiskers and they appeared to be very red. He – she – was wearing a greatcoat with a nipped-in waist, a bottle-green colour I think, a very high collar, and top boots. The hat was an ordinary beaver with a curly brim.’
    ‘Get every man in this household out to search for her,’ commanded the marquess. He turned to the Tribbles. ‘Do not look so distressed, ladies. I shall go myself and try to bring her back.’
    * * *
    Felicity strolled along in the direction of the City, where she hoped to find a stage-coach to take her to Sussex. Spring had come to London. A warm wind was gusting and blowing down the streets, setting the striped awnings at the windows of the houses flapping and the buff-coloured blinds over the shops cracking and swelling, so that at times it appeared as if the Town were one great sailing-ship