She sighed. “You are so brave. But I shall be far away from friends and moving in a strange society. I won’t know how to behave and I shall need Monty to guide me.”
“Of course you’ll know how to behave,” I said. “It’s not as if you started life in a peasant’s cottage like me. You were raised in a good family, and good manners are the same everywhere in the world. Trust me, Monty’s friends will be enchanted with you.”
“I hope so.” She gave a weak smile.
Monty returned, carrying two glasses of champagne. “Here you are, my dear,” he said. He was in the process of handing her the glass when he looked up and said, “What in God’s name is that?”
My friend Ryan O’Hare, the flamboyant Irish playwright, had arrived. He was wearing tight black trousers, a frilly white jabot, and a red-lined cape. His dark hair was curled and flicked over his forehead. He looked devastatingly handsome as he held out his hands to me in dramatic gesture. “Molly, my dearest. Come and greet Lord Byron,” he said.
I heard a grunt from Monty.
Ryan crossed the room to me, took my hand, and kissed it. “Ravishing, as always,” he muttered. Then he noticed Monty standing beside me. “And who is this?” he asked. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“This is Montague Warrington-Chase,” I said.
Ryan turned the full force of his charm on Monty. “Warrington-Chase? English? I believe I once had tea at your place.”
“You did?” Monty looked incredulous.
“When I was a child. Osbourne St. George, isn’t it?”
“Good God,” Monty said curtly. “And what was your name, sir?”
“Ryan O’Hare. The family has a nice little castle in Ireland and I moved in your circles before I was banished.”
“Ryan O’Hare. You’re the playwright who caused that stir because of the play you wrote about Queen Victoria and Prince Albert.”
“What a ridiculous fuss, wasn’t it?” Ryan said. “They were horribly stuffy and boring. They needed someone to poke fun at them.”
“She was the monarch of our country, sir,” Monty said stiffly. “There are limits.”
“To hell with limits, I say.” Ryan waved a frilly white sleeve.
“As I heard it, you had to flee the country.”
“Oh, absolutely. Hunted to the Kentish coast. Almost had to swim the Channel.”
“Ryan, you are a terrible liar,” I said, slipping my arm through his. “And I should point out to you that Monty is the fiancé of my friend Sarah Lindley.”
“Oh,” Ryan said, clearly disappointed that his charm was being wasted on Monty. Instead he turned and managed to be charming to Sarah.
Twenty-four
The gathering became more lively as the evening went on. People ate, drank, and were merry. There were musicians and the carpet was rolled back in the dining room for people to dance. A large pile of presents appeared on the hall table. I kept glancing toward the front door, wondering if Daniel would come. But as the festivities went on, I found I was actually having quite a good time myself, forgetting the way the day had started and the decisions I had made. I was chatting with Sarah when Monty came up to us with a strange expression on his face.
“I’ve just had the most astounding encounter,” he said. “I went upstairs, needing to visit—I mean heeding the call of nature, so to speak.” He coughed, uncomfortable at mentioning this subject to ladies. “I located what I believed to be the WC and just as I was about to open the door, it opened and you’ll never guess who stepped out—a Chinese girl. I thought for a moment she was one of the guests in a dashed authentic-looking costume, but she was the real thing. Where on earth did she come from?”
When we didn’t answer immediately he went on, “Sarah, she’s not the girl you told me about, is she? The one at that place where you work who you said was dying of consumption, because she looked quite hale and hearty.”
“No, this is a different girl altogether,” Sarah said quickly. “That girl is still at the settlement house.”
“Thank God. I thought for a moment someone had been injudicious enough to bring consumption into this house. Terribly catching, you know. So who is this girl? I had always understood that the Chinese were not allowed to bring their families to this country, but now Chinese women seem to be springing up all over the place.”
My heart was racing. “She was raised by missionaries, who sent her over here,” I said, before Sarah could answer. “We are training her to go into service.”
“Oh. I see. Splendid idea. I gather the Chinese are frightfully hard workers. She doesn’t have any contagious diseases, does she?”
I attempted a light laugh. “No, she’s quite healthy.”
“She got an awful shock seeing me.” He chuckled. “You should have seen her face. Scurried up the stairs as if I was the big bad wolf.”