The Masked Heart

Chapter Four

"I want to go to London and have a season," Fleur repeated, her pansy eyes filling and threatening to overflow.

For a moment Blaine was reminded of her stepmother Juliette who had used the same tearful tactics to get her way. She blinked and the vision was gone and she was faced by the real distress she saw in her sister's eyes. Aware that Fleur had waited up to speak to her, Blaine sighed and tried to ignore her tiredness from the journey and the lateness of the hour.

She was amazed at the transformation of Fleur. At Christmas, the girl had seemed just a child but now she was a woman grown. At eighteen, Fleur had fulfilled all the prophecies of beauty that Blaine had once predicted. She was in every way the epitome of the London debutante most in style. In the golden lights from the candles, she resembled a vision which would set the hearts of the dandy set aflutter. Her hair was the gold of the sun, naturally curly, falling in ringlets to her shoulders. She was tiny with fragile bones and had large violet eyes and the pink and white skin of a baby. Her voice was sweet and her laughter held the sound of tinkling bells. In her simple, light green muslin dress, she truly did resemble a flower.

Although Fleur was lovely to look at, there were other things that Blaine noted that did not please her half so well. The girl had a tendency to pout and appeared slightly self-centered but she suspected that much of this was merely a lack of maturity. She assumed her sister would grow out of this stage but she admitted to some worry on this head. She had always cosseted Fleur, feeling guilty that she was not around as much as she ought to be. The young girl needed a strong hand and Blaine suspected that Puff, who adored her charge, was not firm enough.

"You're not even listening," Fleur cried.

"I'm sorry, dear," Blaine said, turning her full attention on her sister. "It was only that I was so surprised at the request. I am gone so much that sometimes I forget that you are no longer a child."

"I'm quite grown up and I think it's time that I enter society." Fleur peered beneath her lashes to see what effect her words had on her sister and seeing the stiffness of Blaine's face, she immediately launched into speech. "I'm tired of being stuck here at Weathers. Puff is such an old fusspot, she never lets me do anything."

"It is Puff's job to protect you and see to your welfare. And from the sounds of things, I cannot imagine that she has had such an easy time of it." Blaine's voice was soft, but the hard edge warned the girl that she had gone too far in criticizing her governess.

"Puff is wonderful," Fleur said in apology. "But I'm so bored here. I am not allowed to go out in society. All I do is ride around the countryside and go into the village to shop. It's just so unfair! I want to go to balls and the theatre. I want to meet other girls my own age and flirt with gentlemen who can talk of something other than their crops. But here I am, kept prisoner in the country, while you're having all the fun in London!"

If Blaine hadn't been so stunned by her sister's accusation, she would have laughed. She stared across at the petulant girl, wondering why it had never occurred to her to expect such a scene. Fleur had been told that Blaine had gone to London as companion to her father's cousin. The fictitious Lavinia Birdwell was said to be old, crotchety and infirm. Blaine had not realized that her sister would assume she was out in society, going to dances and mingling with titled gentlemen. In horror she wondered how long Fleur had been nursing resentment of her older sister's way of life.

If only she knew, Blaine thought, choking back a sound that was more nearly a sob than a sign of amusement. She was so nonplussed by Fleur's words that she did not know what to say. Finally she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "We have not enough money to sponsor you for the season."

"That's all I ever hear," Fleur said stamping her foot before she flounced down on the window seat. "If you had made the slightest push to get married, we would have."

Blaine winced at the girl's words, closing her eyes to combat the pain that suddenly assailed her. As if Fleur realized she had gone much too far, she ran across the room and threw herself into her sister's arms.

"Oh, Blaine, forgive me for being such a beast." There were real tears in the pansy eyes and this time they overflowed, rolling unheeded down the white cheeks of the contrite girl. "I did not mean to hurt you, Blaine. Please forgive me."

Blaine hugged her, knowing that the girl had not intended to be cruel. Calmly analyzing the situation, she could understand the girl's discontent. Her words came from not knowing the true situation of their lives and Blaine had only herself to blame for such a misunderstanding.

"Come. Come, Fleur. Your tears will only make your eyes red and then I shall feel twice as guilty at the ruination of your beauty." A damp chuckle followed this sally and Blaine gave the girl a final hug as she pushed her away. "Sit up and dry your eyes while I think."

While Fleur dabbed at her eyes with a scrap of cambric, Blaine examined the girl, trying to view her criticisms objectively. She had to admit her sister did have some justice on her side. Blaine had given strict instructions to Frau Puffentraub which would ensure the safety of the girl. She had wanted to protect the girl from disillusion by isolating her from society.

After several years of the London scene, Blaine had seen the heartbreak and pain that could result when a young girl was unprepared for the lies and seductions of more experienced men. She had hoped to spare Fleur by keeping her isolated until she was older. As she observed the girl, Blaine realized it was this very isolation that had stunted the growth of sophistication her sister would need to fight off unwanted male advances.

Fleur was eighteen now and should be going about in society. Perhaps it was time that Blaine loosened her restrictions before, in her discontent, the girl rebelled completely.

"Are there no young men in the neighborhood?" Blaine asked.

"Well, yes." Fleur dropped her eyes to her lap and pleated the muslin of her skirt. "But Puff says I cannot accept any invitations since I am not out yet."

"Puff was merely following my instructions, my dear. Until now I did not feel you were old enough." She raised a hand as Fleur started to interrupt. "However I can see that I may have been wrong. Depending on the kind of invitation, perhaps you might be able to accept as long as Puff is included as your chaperone."

"But, Blaine, the trouble is that we never receive any invitations!" Fleur cried.

As tears threatened again, Blaine patted the girl briskly. "Come, Fleur. Don't turn into a watering pot. Tell me what all this nonsense is about."

"It is not nonsense," she answered, her lip jutting out as anger replaced her tears. "When Aunt Haydie first arrived, she refused all invitations since we were in mourning and she had little need to socialize. After she died, in order to keep up the fiction that I still had a proper guardian, we turned everyone away, saying her health was too precarious for visitors. And now the entire county is convinced that there is some dreadful secret that we are trying to hide by our seclusion."

"What kind of secret?" Blaine asked in concern.

"For four years, no one has seen Aunt Haydie. And now it appears that the wildest rumors have been circulating." Fleur raised her eyes to her sister and Blaine could see the girl was clearly agitated. "So you see, no one will ever invite me anywhere since everyone thinks that Aunt Haydie has gone out of her head and is locked away to keep the secret safe."

"Great Heavenly Day!" Blaine was stunned by the shock of her sister's words. Knowing the country people as well as she did it amazed her that she had never considered this bizarre possibility.

Their ability to pull off the Great Deception had been possible by the very fact that no one in the neighborhood was acquainted with Aunt Haydie. Although she had impersonated her aunt for the benefit of the family solicitor, it had never occurred to her to continue the fiction for the benefit of the neighborhood. She could understand that the very invisibility of Lady Yates had contributed to wild conjectures about the family.

No wonder Fleur was on the edge of rebellion. Isolated from the Wiltshire society by her sister's orders and ugly rumor, she had some right to her feelings of ill usage. The headache that had been building increased and Blaine raised her hands to her throbbing temples.

"Let me think about all of this, Fleur, and we'll talk tomorrow. It's late and very difficult for me to think. I do not wish to be unfair to you. Between us, sweetheart, we should be able to find a way out of this coil."

Although Fleur's face immediately brightened, Blaine was far from certain that she would find a solution to their problem. She retired to her room and tossed and turned much of the night but by morning she was little closer to a solution. Dressing quickly, she arrived at the doorway of the breakfast room just as Val skipped down the stairs.

"Oh Blaine!" The boy hesitated uncertain how to greet her, then as she opened her arms, he ran across the marble floor to throw his arms around her waist. "I'm glad you're home at last," he said, extricating himself from her embrace.

"So am I, brat," Blaine said, ruffling his hair as she passed into the breakfast room. "And I'm starving."

Mrs. Ames, who doubled as cook and housekeeper, had been waiting for Blaine's arrival and fussed over her as she eyed the service of a freckle-faced maid. "It's glad I am that you've finally come home. With the looks of you, I can see we'll have to fatten you up before we send you back to that heathen city."

"I am only permitted to gorge myself this morning, in honor of my return," Blaine mumbled around a mouth full of steak and kidney pie. "I'll burst all the seams in my gowns and then I'll have Tate ranting and raving."

"You can spend the day in the saddle," Val offered, "and then you can eat all you want."

"He's got the right of it, miss. Just look how much he's grown. All of eleven he is and ever so bright." The housekeeper grinned fondly at the boy as she left the room.

Val, embarrassed to be the focus of his sister's attention, reddened to the tips of his ears and busied himself with his mug of hot chocolate.

"Soon you'll be ready for the hunt, Val. How's Fatima?" Blaine smiled at the elegant name, ludicrous now that the pony had gained so much weight.

"Smashing! I've taught her some new tricks. Would you like to see her after breakfast?" he asked shyly.

"Of course I would and then perhaps you'll accompany me in a ride."

"Good show!" The boy jumped to his feet, eager to be off to the stables. At the door, he skidded to a stop and turned back to his sister. "Thanks ever so much for the books. I found them on my nightstand and I only had time for a quick glance. The one about Stonehenge looks to be a proper smasher."

"I thought you might like that one. We all had such a grand time last year when we visited the place." Blaine waved her hand as she picked up her cup of tea. "Run along now and leave me in peace. I'll be along shortly to see the miracle pony."

However Blaine only had a few minutes before her quiet was interrupted by a sharp wail from the region of the hallway. Before she could rise to investigate, the door was pulled open and Fleur, her face set in a mournful mien, stumbled into the room.

"Oh, la, Blaine," she wailed. "My life is ruined."

Blaine rolled her eyes as her sister sighed melodramatically and threw herself into a chair, staring glumly down at the crumpled note in her hand.

"Perhaps you'd care to share the contents of the missive," Blaine suggested, taking a bracing sip of her tea.

"It's from our near neighbor. His brother has come from London for a visit and he wanted to call this afternoon."

"Are you acquainted with this person?"

"His name is Robbie and I've known him for just ages." Fleur announced breezily, hurrying into speech before Blaine could inquire further. "He owns Fairhaven which is quite near the village. I have seen him frequently but he has never been to call. Oh how I wish Aunt Haydie were here!" she wailed.

Suddenly the girl sat up and stared across the table at Blaine. At the look of calculation in her sister's eyes, Blaine narrowed hers, as the realization of Fleur's idea dawned on her. She held up her hand in refusal.

"Don't even consider it, my girl."

"Oh, Blaine, it would be the perfect solution. You will be playing the part of Aunt Haydie for the solicitor anyway, so why couldn't you do it for your sister."

"Really, Fleur. That is like comparing apples and pears. The only reason I ever agreed to masquerade as Lady Yates was for the sheer necessity of keeping the yearly allowance. You know how I hate the deception."

"My whole life will be ruined," Fleur cried, tears welling up in her violet eyes. "Here is my one chance to stop the talk in the neighborhood and you won't make the slightest push to help me."

Blaine was still feeling guilty over her talk with Fleur the night before. She hated to see her sister ostracized from the country society because they thought there was something irregular about the family. Perhaps if Aunt Haydie made one appearance, it would give Fleur the entree she needed.

"What time did the gentlemen wish to call?" Blaine asked, defeated by the pitiful expression in the violet eyes across from her.

"Oh, Blaine! You are the very best of sisters!" Fleur squealed as she launched herself out of her chair and danced around the room hugging herself. "I shall send them a note telling them to come after lunch."

Not waiting for a change of heart, the girl dashed from the room. Blaine sighed heavily, suspecting she would live to regret this decision. Although she rode with Val and tried to show the proper enthusiasm for the display of Fatima's talents, her mind continually returned to the problem of Aunt Haydie's appearance. So far the house servants had kept the secret of Lady Yates death in order to protect Fleur and Val. But would a further deception help or merely add to their difficulties?

"How's Cousin Lavinia?" Val asked as they paused in the woods to rest the horses.

"Poorly," Blaine answered automatically.

"You say that every time I ask," the boy said, a furrow ruffling the smooth surface of his forehead. "You know, Blaine, you should try to convince her to come here with you on your holiday. I'm sure that the fresh air would do wonders for the old girl's constitution."

Blaine tried not to smile at the gravity of her brother's remarks. "I am sure it would, Val. The problem is that she is really not well enough to travel such a great distance."

"Oh," the boy said wistfully. "I just thought if she could come for a visit you would be able to stay longer. It is such a treat having you at home. Fleur is much too nice to go tramping around the woods. All she does is moan and groan that she will get dirty."

It saddened Blaine to realize what a muddle she had made of things. Val was clearly lonely and she ached that she was forced to neglect him so much.

"Have you any companions to go round about with?" she asked.

"Not so many any more." He shrugged philosophically, in a gesture far too old for his tender years. At Blaine's questioning look, he continued. "I used to play with some of the tenants' children. Now that I've been able to take over some of the estate affairs, it has become different. It is very difficult to come around inspecting and that sort of thing if the tenants treat me like a baby."

Blaine wanted to hug him for the hurt confusion she heard in his voice. Since the death of the estate manager Higgins, she had taken over the running of the estate. In the last year or two she had been turning some of the responsibility over to Val so that he would be prepared to handle it when he came of age. She could understand that once he began to show some authority, his relationship with the tenants was bound to change.

"Perhaps it is time that you met other boys in the neighborhood," she said. By the apprehensive look on his face, she realized that he too was well aware of the gossip. "Never fear, halfling. I have heard what is being said and I think I may have a solution. Come along back to the house and I shall tell you of my plan. Besides it is still much too cold for Fatima's dainty constitution to be abroad on such a frosty morning."

Val giggled and lay along the fat pony's neck to stroke her velvety ears. "You must not let her hear you talk so, Blaine, or the dear old thing will bolt back to the stable."

"Bolt? It would be more like a slow waddle."

She laughed happily, turning her horse's head to lead the way. In quiet harmony they cooled down and groomed the animals. After a quick wash they met again in the library where Blaine told him of her proposal to masquerade as Aunt Haydie for the benefit of the callers. When she finished she asked if he would be able to handle one more secret.

"Of course, I can, Blaine," he declared staunchly. "After all, it should be no additional strain to have Aunt Haydie return to life since I have not been clapjawed about her death."

Blaine smiled in remembrance of the boy's words as Tate helped her dress for the reappearance of Lady Yates. The sour face of the old lady indicated her disapproval for this additional impersonation.

"Think of it as a dress rehearsal, Tate," Blaine said. She turned in front of the cheval glass. "You've done a fine job with everything."

"No need to turn me up sweet," the dresser snapped. "I know my job and would never turn you out less than perfect. I cannot like this whole idea and Frau Puffentraub is in agreement. Fleur slumguzzled you if you ask me, which knowing you, I know you won't. You shouldn't give in to the child."

"I'm not really giving in. I just think it might help to allay the talk in the neighborhood. I should have noticed what was happening long before this. It's me own guilt what done me in," she finished cheekily. She threw up her hands as the woman still continued glum. "My whole life is such a lie that it's monstrously hard to cavil at one more."

One look at her mistress' doleful expression and Tate immediately dropped her air of injury. "Never mind, lamb. I'm sure everything will turn out fine. You've the talent to pull it all off. Don't forget to move slowly and keep your hands still so as not to draw attention to them," she admonished.

Blaine studied herself in the mirror amazed at the transformation. She wore a stiff bombazine gown which had been liberally padded so that her figure flowed from neck to waist without a break. A silver-rimmed lorgnette hung from a velvet cord pinned to her imposing bosom. The dress was an unrelieved black so that her skin appeared pale in contrast. To add to the pallor, a white paste, much like the maquillage still worn by some of the old ladies of the court, had been applied to her skin. Rouge stood out starkly on her stiffened cheeks. A fussy, lace cap, edged in black, completely covered her hair and several white ringlets of fake hair hid her ears. All in all she looked a proper old lady, Blaine thought as she pursed her mouth in a prim expression.

"Oh, you look perfect." Fleur clapped her hands in approval as Blaine entered the parlor, leaning heavily on an oak walking stick with an ivory knob. "Just like those high-toned tabbies, I see riding through the village."

"Take a damper, Fleur," Blaine snapped. "This is not a game. 'Tis a far riskier venture than fooling an old man like the solicitor. Just try to remember to treat me like an old lady. Forget that I am your sister and think of me only as Aunt Haydie. Then you will be far less likely to make a slip."

Fleur quieted immediately under her sister's uneasy glance. She helped to pull the curtain to darken the room slightly and then scurried to find a lap rug to throw across Blaine's knees to increase the suggestion of Aunt Haydie's invalid status. They had only just finished their preparations when the sounds from the hall indicated the arrival of callers.

Blaine offered up prayers that Fleur would be up to the challenge. She suspected the girl thought the whole idea a bit of a lark and had no conception of the disaster that would result in the event their duplicity was discovered. As the door to the parlor opened, Blaine took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she prepared to play her part.

A short stocky man of pleasant looks and warm brown eyes entered, beaming foolishly at Fleur. It was immediately apparent to Blaine that the man and her sister had more than a passing acquaintance and she determined to question Fleur as to the goings on in her absence. The man appeared to be a gentleman with an air of refinement as he bowed over Fleur's hand. When he moved aside Blaine's eyes widened at sight of the other man and she caught back a gasp as she recognized the arrogant features of Lord Andrew Farrington.

A wave of blackness assailed her as she stared in horror at the man. She closed her eyes, terrified that the intentness of her gaze would draw his notice. She breathed deeply, trying to control the pounding of her heartbeats. At the sound of approaching footsteps, she opened her eyes and drew herself up haughtily.

"Auntie dear," Fleur said, her voice a trembling whisper in her nervousness. "I would like to make known to you our neighbor, Lord Robert Farrington, and his brother, Lord Andrew Farrington."

Fingers shaking beneath the lacy mittens, Blaine raised the lorgnette and stared icily at the two men. "Farrington, eh. Any relationship to the Farringtons in Derbyshire?" she asked hoping the quaver in her throaty voice would be mistaken for age.

"Only distantly, ma'am," the younger man answered.

"A flighty bunch at best. Their pockets have been to let since well before you were born, young man." She hoped neither of the men would notice Fleur who had the slack-jawed look of a hooked fish. This was the first time that the girl had been privy to Blaine's impersonation and it was clear she was astonished. Under cover of her lap robe, she nudged the girl who snapped her mouth shut, wincing as if she had bitten her tongue. Blaine returned her concentration to the young man. "Can't abide those who play deep and fritter away their inheritances. And you, are you living on your expectations?"

"No, ma'am," Robbie declared immediately. "Fairhaven is a very prosperous estate. It provides a very comfortable living."

"Humph," was Blaine's answer as she turned as if to take the measure of Drew Farrington. Her hand shook slightly but she surveyed him from artfully curled head to shining booted feet. She almost sighed at the end of her scrutiny. He was truly a magnificent figure; his tall, lean body beneath his buckskins had the taut muscularity of an athlete. Her gaze returned to his face and she blinked at the sardonically raised eyebrow above his amused green gaze.

"Lady Yates. Delighted to see you in such fine twig," he drawled, bending his body in a slight obeisance.

"I can see you ain't sickly," Blaine snapped, then noticing her sister's agitation, she turned to the girl. "Stop fluttering, Fleur. Ring for tea."

With an expression of only mild curiosity, Drew took a seat and looked around the drawing room. It was well appointed despite the fact that it was in sad need of refurbishing. The furnishings themselves bespoke of good taste and genteel background; each piece obviously well chosen to suit the room. It was not at all what he had been expecting.

In fact nothing was quite as it had suspected. He had assumed Fleur Meriweather was a scheming jade of poor, uneducated parentage.

Impoverished the girl might be but it was apparent that her antecedents were impeccable. The girl herself, barely a child out of the schoolroom, was a far cry from the cold, calculating chit he had been prepared to write off as an adventuress. Fleur was an innocently wide-eyed child who was trying out her fledgling wings by flirting with him beneath outrageously long eyelashes as she poured tea.

Two things Drew noted immediately. Robbie was truly in love with the golden blond child and Fleur was not in love with Robbie.

Drew's green eyes glittered as he watched his brother. Although Robbie was busy speaking to Lady Yates, his eyes rarely strayed from Fleur for any length of time. His eyes shone with adoration and his color rose and receded at every glance from the object of his affections. On the other hand, Fleur looked as Robbie with the same enthusiasm one might bestow on a younger brother. Drew suspected that she thought of him as a friend but as yet did not consider him in the role of a suitor, let alone a lover. It would be rough times ahead for Robbie before he could hope to win the hand of this pretty child.

"Will you be staying long with Robbie?" Fleur asked, nervous at the steady gaze trained on her.

"I try to keep my country visits to only brief forays, Miss Meriweather."

"But surely you enjoy riding in the woods. There is much to be admired in the beauty of nature," Fleur said.

For a moment Drew wondered if the girl were quite as ingenuous as she appeared but one look at the guileless violet eyes disabused him of such a base notion. "I do find everything in Wiltshire of singular beauty. But that is not solely reserved for the scenery," he answered.

At his words, Fleur blushed, the color rising in an intriguing wave of pink and she dropped her eyes to the hands in her lap feeling unequal to the sophisticated banter of the man.

Blaine, although she was having a pleasant chat with Robbie, was aware of every movement of Drew. She chided herself for staring at him but found her eyes constantly drawn to his aristocratic features. She was angry at Fleur for making a cake of herself by her attempts to flirt with the man. She had seen the amusement in Drew's eyes at her sister's behavior but she must admit he was being gentle with the girl. Despite his arrogance, he seemed aware that Fleur was not experienced enough to handle even the lightest of flirtations.

"Please say that you and Miss Meriweather will come," Robbie said.

Blaine jumped at the voice beside her. She was embarrassed that she had let her attention wander from the young man at her side. Any more lapses and she would surely give the game away.

"Must have been woolgathering," she snorted, once more firmly back in the role of Aunt Haydie.

"Sorry, Lady Yates, I suspect I did not couch the invitation in clearest terms." Robbie grinned at the raised eyebrow of the old lady. "My brother and I were hoping that you and Miss Meriweather would join us for a small dinner party Friday evening at Fairhaven."

"Oh, Aunt Haydie, may we please?" Fleur chorused with a quick glance at Robbie.

Blaine had seen the shared gaze of the two and suspected that this whole affair had been a well-planned campaign. It was obvious the girl's explanation of a casual acquaintance with Robert Farrington was a clear fabrication. She glared at Fleur who flushed and dropped her gaze to her lap.

"It is, of course, quite neighborly of you to invite us but unfortunately I do not think I am up to such an adventure," Blaine replied dampeningly.

"I trust you are not unwell, Lady Yates."

Blaine's eyes flashed to Drew's interested face. She wondered what it was about the arrangement of his features that she found so compelling. "Thank you for your concern, but I have been in delicate health this winter."

"One would not think it to see the bloom of color in your cheeks," he drawled.

"Cheeky devil," Blaine said, unable to keep the gleam of amusement out of her own eyes at his allusion to her rouged appearance. "More to the point, gentlemen, Fleur is not overused to society."

"It would seem to me, ma'am," Drew offered quietly, "that a family party in the neighborhood might be the very place for a young lady to try out her wings. Unless, of course, you feel that Robbie and myself would be improper influences on your niece."

Drew had to admit the woman intrigued him. She seemed robust enough, although his brother had led him to believe that the woman was prone to ill health. From what little he had observed, the old girl was a real tartar, outspoken and sarcastic. Lord knew there was little enough to amuse him at Fairhaven and in order to push forward Robbie's suit he might as well enjoy himself with the wit and intelligence he saw in Lady Yates' eyes. Nothing in Drew's casual pose indicated that he had thrown down a gauntlet but the keen light in his eyes suggested it as he met the older woman's gaze.

Blaine read the challenge in Drew's eyes and drew herself up straighter in the chair. She wondered if he too were involved in this scheme to launch Fleur on society. One look at the ascetic features and she discarded that thought. Knowing him as little as she did, she still thought he would never sink to devious measures. He might be ruthless in battle, but his attack would always be made directly, never in an oblique fashion.

"It is not that I mistrust your motives, sirrah," Blaine conceded. "I fear the jouncing of our ancient carriage would be unsettling to my constitution."

"Of course, Lady Yates. At last I understand your quandary," Drew smiled benignly at the old woman. "Naturally, I shall place my carriage at your disposal. It is of the latest design and will transport you as if you were flown on the wings of angels. Shall we say, nine o'clock?"

Faced with the amused triumph reflected in Drew's gaze, Blaine could do little more than nod in agreement. Inwardly she raged that she had been placed in such an untenable position. She would comb Fleur's hair with a stool, she thought waspishly at the satisfied look on the girl's face. She might be defeated but she would at least go down fighting.

"Nine o'clock, young man? I am more used to country hours," she said. "However, it will be as you say. Naturally Fleur and I must needs return directly after we eat. Young girls need their proper rest."

Fleur pouted under Blaine's sweetly smiling gaze as the men rose to take their leave. The girl did however acquit herself well as she accompanied them to the door. Blaine was finally able to relax in her chair and waited patiently for her sister to return. She would find out just what the girl had been up to and then deal with the dinner party. The thought of making a public appearance as Lady Yates filled her with unease and yet she could see no way out of the predicament. In her attempt to resolve Fleur and Val's isolation from society, she feared she had placed all of them in a very dangerous situation.