That Would Be a Fairy Tale - By Amanda Grange Page 0,37

how loud it sounds,’ said Cicely, who had left the gong behind when she had moved to the Lodge.

‘Time to dress for dinner,’ said Alice. ‘I will see you downstairs.’

She ran lightly out of the room, almost bumping into a maid, who had just arrived.

‘The master’s compliments, miss,’ said the maid to Cicely as Alice departed. ‘I’ve come to help you dress.’

Cicely felt a warm feeling wash over her at this evidence of Mr Evington’s - Alex’s - unexpected thoughtfulness.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

With the help of the maid she washed and changed, putting on one of her three evening gowns. It was an exquisite creation, made for Cicely by a talented local dressmaker who had once worked for the great Doucet in Paris. Made of the palest pink chiffon it floated around her delicate curves as she dropped it over her head. The maid arranged it over her lace-trimmed petticoat before fastening it at the back, whereupon it draped itself elegantly around Cicely’s trim waist before flowing down over her hips and falling in a swirling cascade to the floor.

The maid then arranged her hair in a simple pompadour, piling her hair on top of her head and leaving her neck and shoulders bare.

There came a knock at the door, and Alice entered. She was dressed in a gown of pale primrose brocade, her slender waist accentuated with a white sash.

‘Are you ready to go down?’ she asked.

Cicely fastened a pair of pearl earrings in her ears and pulled on her long white evening gloves. ‘I am.’

Cicely was apprehensive as they went downstairs. Although she had accustomed herself to being at the Manor when she worked there, it was different to visit it en fête. The hall below her was full of the most elegant people. The ladies in exquisite evening gowns, all décolleté and swishing trains, conversed with gentlemen in evening dress. The gay conversation met Cicely and Alice at the half landing. Bright bursts of laughter punctuated the hubbub, and there was an atmosphere of enjoyment and good humour.

‘This is how the Manor was meant to be,’ murmured Cicely. For a moment she was transported back in time, to the days of her early childhood when her mother had been alive. Her parents had often entertained then, and thrown parties that were the talk of the neighbourhood. But after her mother’s death her father had retreated into his own hobbies, and had cut off all but the most basic contact with the outside world.

Cicely and Alice reached the bottom of the stairs and were joined by Mrs Babbage, who was evidently enjoying herself. She had dressed herself in her best clothes and was making the most of the unexpected frivolity.

‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ breathed Alice, looking round at all the lace and jewels in awe.

They went through into the drawing-room, where Cicely’s eyes were drawn irresistibly to Alex. Immaculately dressed in a black tailcoat, wing-collared shirt, bow tie and tailored trousers, he looked magnificent. His dark hair was brushed back from his face, revealing the masculine lines of his cheek and jaw. He had more character than anyone Cicely had ever met, and it showed on his face, being etched into the lines around his eyes to give his face interest and depth.

And then her eyes drifted to his companion and her heart stopped. For next to Alex was a statuesque beauty who held herself like a queen, and who was holding on to his arm with a distinctly proprietorial air.

Cicely felt a twist inside her. She was totally unprepared for it, and only just managed to stifle a gasp. She couldn’t be jealous, could she? Alex was entitled to offer his arm to one of his guests; indeed, good manners made it imperative that he do so. He was even entitled to be in love with the full-figured beauty, she realised with a sinking feeling, noting the way his arm encircled the Amazon’s waist.

At that moment he turned and saw her. A warm smile washed over his face, and it lit Cicely inside. Against all reason she was delighted that he was pleased to see her.

Excusing himself to his companion, he walked across the drawing-room to welcome her.

‘Cicely, I’m so pleased you could come.’ Hs eyes lingered on her face. Then, as if remembering himself, he turned to Alice and her mother and made them welcome.

‘Oh, we are so pleased to be here!’ said Alice, looking up at him adoringly.

Mrs Babbage was similarly smitten, though she was better