The Adventuress: HFTS5 by Marion Chesney, M.C. Beaton

she have ever dreamt of marriage to one of
them?
Better to retire to the country with her dear friend and live a quiet and comfortable existence. God put us in our appointed stations the day we were born, and to try to move up or down was a heinous sin.
    Mr. Goodenough was praying that the Prince Regent would be there. If only he could make his bow, and look on those famous features, he felt he would die a happy man.
    Mrs. Middleton was deathly tired. She hoped they would only stay a short time at the rout. Her feet were swelling inside her new shoes, and her new corset was pinching her above the waist. Emily had not uttered one coarse phrase during all the socialising before the opera began. Mrs. Middleton had enjoyed her brief elevation to the ranks of society, but now all she wanted to do was to get back to her comfortable parlour and become a housekeeper again.
    The earl’s house was a blaze of lights from top to bottom. The Goodenoughs and Mrs. Middleton had to wait and wait while their carriage inched forward through the press.
    When they finally alighted, Emily called Joseph and told him to accompany them inside. She was quickly coming to rely more and more on the Clarges Street servants and felt Joseph’s tall presence behind her at the rout would be a comfort.
    Joseph was thrilled at the idea of having a look at a real-live princess. It almost took his mind off his nagging worry about Lizzie and why Luke should suddenly have become interested in her.
    The first thing Emily noticed was that there were no refreshments, no cards, no music. She blushed as she thought of her own efforts and wondered whether she had been considered parvenu to have supplied food, drink, and an orchestra.
    Emily, Mr. Goodenough, Mrs. Middleton, and Joseph queued on the staircase that led up to the drawing room on the first floor.
    There was a great deal of pushing and shoving as some members of the ton shoved their way up and others who had had the glory of meeting the princess pushed their way down.
    At last, Emily’s party reached the double doors of the drawing room.
    Mr. Goodenough scrambled for his card case, could not find it, and gave their names in a shaky voice.
    The little party walked forward.
    Emily’s heart sank.
    For here, surely, was a real princess.
    She was a tall, elegant lady wearing an enormous powdered wig. Her face was a mask of white blanc with a circle of rouge painted on each cheek. She was wearing a long, flowing, crimson velvet robe heavily encrusted with gold embroidery. Heavy barbaric necklaces of huge rubies and sapphires set in old gold hung about her neck and fell almost to her waist over her flat bosom.
    The earl was standing behind her chair.
    “And who is this?” demanded the princess in a surprisingly deep voice.
    “Miss Emily Goodenough,” murmured the earl, “her uncle, Mr. Benjamin Goodenough, and Miss Emily’s companion, Mrs. Middleton.”
    “You are very beautiful, child,” said the princess. “You may kiss me.”
    Emily shyly walked forward, sank into a deep curtsy, and then made to kiss the princess on the cheek. She found herself seized in a strong grip and then, to her consternation, the princess kissed her full on the mouth.
    “I should call you out for that, you old ratbag,” said the earl.
    Blushing furiously, Emily retreated backwards and looked at the earl and the princess in surprise.
    Mr. Goodenough made his bow and Mrs. Middleton dropped her best curtsy.
    Just as they were about to leave, there came a great stirring and rustling and exclaiming from those waiting to be presented, and then Giles called out, “His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent; Mr. George Brummell; Lord Alvanley.”
    “The deuce!” exclaimed the earl.
    The Prince Regent waddled forward. He was wearing skin-tight knee-breeches and his evening coat was strained across his shoulders. Slim, elegant, and amused, the famous Beau Brummell stood behind him with the squat and powerful Lord Alvanley.
    “Princess