of friends. Then there was Miss Emily Montague. Emily’s family lived next door to Lady Alice’s London residence, and Emily had been to finishing school with Phyllis, though the two of them were quite different. Where Phyllis was gentle and placid, Emily was quick and shrewd and sharp. At that very moment, Emily was staring around the restaurant, looking quite as bored by the conversation as Veronica was herself. She looked distracted and out of sorts, though Veronica suspected she was probably just sulking because she hadn’t yet managed to attract the attentions of any eligible beau.
‘So, my dears, how are you enjoying your first Season?’ the Countess asked suddenly, smiling indulgently at the three young ladies.
Lady Alice answered for them. ‘They’re having a simply delightful time!’ she bubbled. ‘There have been so many lovely parties for them to enjoy.’
‘Well of course, Lady Fitzmaurice’s ball is always quite an occasion,’ said the Countess, nodding in agreement. ‘Dear Sylvia is such a wonderful hostess. And Beaucastle’s garden party too – his grounds are quite spectacular.’
‘Then there is the York House ball tonight,’ went on Lady Alice. ‘Phyllis has a divine new dress for it, don’t you darling?’
Isabel had just noticed Veronica’s plate. ‘Veronica!’ she exclaimed, sharply. ‘You’ve hardly touched your luncheon!’
‘Is there something wrong with it?’ demanded the Countess, swivelling her flinty gaze back in Veronica’s direction, and peering through her eyeglass suspiciously at the fish.
‘No – nothing,’ said Veronica. ‘I’m not very hungry today, that’s all.’
‘She obviously has a modest appetite,’ said the Countess, staring at Veronica. Her eyes were like dark grey pebbles. ‘Well, a ladylike appetite can be an excellent thing, just as long as you keep your strength up. The Season can be exhausting, you know, especially for the more delicate young girls.’ She turned to Isabel. ‘Is she delicate? She looks rather . . . peaky.’
They all peered at her over the table: the Countess critical, Lady Alice concerned, Emily smirking with amusement and Isabel just annoyed. Veronica burned with indignation under their gaze, whilst beside her, Phyllis continued eating her stuffed grouse quite cheerfully, apparently not noticing that anything was wrong.
‘She’s probably just excited about the dance tonight,’ said Lady Alice, kindly. ‘I remember how excited I used to be before a ball. Why, I could never eat a thing at supper! Perhaps she’d be better off with something sweet – an ice, perhaps? You love your sweets, don’t you Phyllis?’
‘Yes, Mama,’ lisped Phyllis happily.
The Countess glanced at Phyllis for a moment, her lips pursed, looking rather displeased, then turned back to pin her steely gaze upon Veronica. ‘Well, from what I hear, she has rather good reasons for being excited,’ she said archly, addressing Isabel and Lady Alice, although her eyes remained fixed on Veronica. ‘I understand that Beaucastle has been paying her attentions,’ she went on in a suspicious tone, rather as if she suspected Veronica of having somehow tricked him into it.
Isabel was positively delighted by this change of subject. She jumped in at once: ‘Yes, Veronica is a dreadfully lucky girl. Lord Beaucastle has been so very attentive and kind.’
Veronica couldn’t help feeling pleased to see that both the Countess and Lady Alice were looking rather peeved. She suspected that they were disappointed that Lord Beaucastle – who was, after all, one of London’s most eligible bachelors – had chosen to pay attention to her over their dear little Phyllis.
‘He gave her the most wonderful gift, you know, to mark her presentation at court,’ Isabel was saying blithely.
‘The jewelled moth – yes, I heard about it,’ said the Countess, rather shortly. ‘A very special piece, I understand. Not at all the sort of present one would give to a young girl. I would have thought a nice pearl string more suitable.’
‘Papa gave me a pearl necklace for my debut, didn’t he Mama?’ said Phyllis, with a smile. Everyone ignored her.
‘I must say, I was surprised that he would give away a treasure like that. I hope you’re taking very good care of it, my dear,’ the Countess snapped out to Veronica.
Her words were like a gush of cold water. Veronica reeled for a moment. Surely the Countess could not possibly know the truth about what had happened to the jewelled moth? The Countess was still talking, and Veronica realised gradually that her comment had no special significance. But the ice-cold feeling still lingered and there was a rushing in her ears that seemed to drown out everything else being said.
The truth was that Veronica had disliked the moth brooch on sight. It was so big and heavy: it had quite spoilt the look of her white satin court dress, and had torn an ugly hole in the beautiful rose-coloured gown she had worn to Lady Fitzmaurice’s ball. She knew the brooch was expensive and fashionable, and had been made especially for her by the most elegant London jewellers, and that was all very well – but she did think there was something a bit creepy about it.
Of course, she had been terribly proud when Lord Beaucastle had given it to her. It meant he wanted to marry her, and it went without saying that she was pleased about that. After all, he was rich, titled and a society favourite – everyone knew him and liked him. It was a tremendous compliment to have been singled out by a man like him! None of the other girls in her ‘set’ was even close to a proposal, and here she was, with one of society’s most eligible gentlemen showering her with attention. She knew that the others were all terribly envious of her. Why even now she could see Emily watching her with the oddest expression; and the other girls were forever making snide remarks that smacked of jealousy.
And yet . . . it had all happened so quickly. She had barely been out in society for a month! One minute Lord Beaucastle had been just a friend of her father’s – rather old, though awfully nice, of course – and the next he had been sending her bouquets of hothouse flowers, taking her into supper at balls, and then presenting her with this extravagant gift. Although she had dreamed about finding a husband during her first Season – that was what all the girls hoped for; no one wanted to be left on the shelf until next year – she had imagined it happening so differently: meeting a handsome young man in a ballroom, drinking champagne on a moonlit balcony, falling head over heels in love and then having a triumphant wedding, all ivory lace and orange blossom, and living happily ever after. Lord Beaucastle was perfectly pleasant, and certainly very generous – but she was not in love with him. The thought of it made her squirm.
Perhaps that was why she hadn’t wanted to wear the brooch at Lord Beaucastle’s garden party. Isabel had been nagging her about taking care of it, but instead of doing what she was told, she had left it inside the house, pinned to her silk shawl. Now, she cursed herself for being so reckless. For when she had come back in from the garden, the shawl was lying exactly where she had left it – but the jewelled moth had vanished.
She dared not tell anyone what had happened. She couldn’t tell Isabel – she would be simply furious if she knew that Veronica had left Lord Beaucastle’s valuable gift so carelessly unattended – and the other girls would be sure to crow over her if they knew. She could all too clearly imagine the cutting little jibes that Emily would make. She had known that she must find a way to get the brooch back – and quickly. If she lost the gift that Lord Beaucastle had given her, he might be so offended that she would lose her chance at an offer of marriage from him. He would probably never speak to her again! Everyone would know about it, and she would be utterly shamed.
Her
