I must have been brooding even more than Lucian at breakfast, because when he said, ‘What is wrong, Cassie?’ I jumped, surprised to find anyone else was there.
When I blinked at him, confused, he bit his lip and glanced at the door that had just closed behind Garrick. ‘I am sorry. Last night – ’
‘No, not that. And nothing is wrong. I dreamed and I woke thinking that I had an answer.’
‘And did you?’
I shook my head.
‘Can you tell me what you dreamed about?’
‘A stately home in a park.’ I described what I could recall – leaving out the part about the vaults – but Lucian shook his head. ‘Could be anywhere.’
‘I know, just a generic stately home,’ I said, trying to think of all the National Trust and other great houses I had visited and failing to come up with a match.
‘The first post, my lord.’ Garrick came in with a silver salver laden with folded and sealed papers. ‘And I have some intelligence concerning Lord Wraxall.’
‘Excellent. Just one moment...’ Lucian was flicking rapidly through the post. ‘Ah, a reply from Emily Cowper. If you will excuse me, Cassie.’ He broke the seal and scanned the contents, then passed me the slip of card enclosed.
Ladies Voucher, Almack’s, I read. It was printed in elegant curling blue script. Deliver to – and Miss Lawrence had been handwritten in the space. Then Tickets to the Balls on the Wednesdays in April 1807. The bottom had been initialled, although I couldn’t make out what that said.
Bouncing up and down and going, ‘Squee!’ would scandalise Garrick so I smiled and said, ‘Thank you so much, Lucian.’
‘Lady Cowper is the sweetest soul, I thought she was the best bet.’ He only looked a little bit smug. ‘How do you want to spend the day?’
‘Do I need more clothes?’
‘That is taken care of, Miss Lawrence,’ Garrick assured me.
‘In that case I would like to go window shopping th
is morning.’ I kept catching glimpses of fascinating little shops and I was itching to poke about in them.
‘Not without a footman to escort you, Miss Lawrence.’ Garrick sounded scandalised.
‘No?’ I had no wish to cause talk, not with a coveted Almack’s voucher to live up to, but the opportunity to be a Regency consumer was too good to miss.
‘I will borrow one for you, and a maid.’ Lucian sounded amused by my disappointment. ‘Selbourne has a full staff because his mother and sister are coming up next week, so he will have people to spare. I will send him a note at once.’
Bond Street was fabulous. Piccadilly was fabulous. It was all fabulous. I did my best not to contribute to every male-held stereotype of women and shopping, but this was like being let loose in a cross between the biggest antique shops in the world, the most fabulous jewellers and the most high-end craft workshops.
Lucian had tried to give me money to spend, but I had refused to take more than five pounds for emergencies. If I started spending there would be no stopping me and I had no idea if I was ever going to be able to get myself home, let alone transport the swag I was coveting. Besides, how could I ever pay him back for all the gowns and accessories he had already provided me with?
When I finally got back to Albany I tipped the borrowed footman and maid. They seemed awestruck by my self-restraint in the shops – or possibly I had completely over-tipped them. Whichever it was, there were three of us happy as they took themselves off and Garrick let me into the apartment.
He smiled as he took my bonnet, gloves and pelisse. ‘Your outfit for this evening is in your bed chamber, Miss Lawrence.’
I thanked him and went to gloat over yet another gorgeous gown with its accessories – pale blue silk with a silver net overskirt and silver ribbons. I could get used to this life. On the other hand, I was terrified that I might have to.
We set out at half past nine after dinner. I made a good meal because I remembered reading that the refreshments at Almack’s were pretty dire, although I didn’t ask Lucian if that was correct. I suspected he was finding my erratic knowledge about aspects of his world rather disconcerting.
The carriage was driven by a regular coachman this time. For one thing, as Lucian pointed out, we were not up to anything suspicious and secondly Garrick had mysterious plans for his own snooping that evening.
Almack’s occupied a long, rather unprepossessing, building on the southern side of King Street where a big post-modern office block stands now. There were iron railings either side of the doors we had entered by that first morning which were at the end of the building and above I could see the tall arched windows of the ballroom. There was a bustle of carriages, almost a traffic jam, and the torches were blazing and I realised with a jolt that I had been just along the street a week ago. And I was still two hundred years adrift.
I wasn’t concerned about Trubshaw because he would work his dubious charms on the neighbours who were suckers for his starving cat impression. But what about Sophie, and my clients – and the police? I dragged down a big, steadying breath and told myself there was no point in worrying. I couldn’t get back yet and there was nothing I could do about it so getting in a state was pointless.
‘There is no need to be nervous,’ Lucian said, as the carriage door opened. ‘Almack’s always seems to make ladies anxious.’