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Grace insisted that we must celebrate the resulting child in the grand style, and she’s probably right. So my husband is dressed as the Merry Monarch tonight. It’s a bit of a joke between us.”
    â€œThat Nell Gwyn was King Charles’s mistress?”
    â€œAh, more than that! But never mind. The naughty Nell Gwyn may have been closely related to some of my ancestors, and since several members of my husband’s family were acknowledged as the natural children of kings, Ryder’s very probably dressed as an ancestor, too.”
    Her merry mood was infectious. “And it’s very likely that some of my ancestors were shepherds,” Sarah said, “so I suppose we’re all dressed appropriately.”
    Lady Ryderbourne laughed and glanced back up at the painting. “Guy’s family is also descended from de Verrant, of course. It appears that the rogue made very free with his favors. Alas, now my poor little baby is the heir to all of it. He’s sleeping far above our heads with a dozen nursemaids watching over him, and it’s the first time we’ve been apart this long since he was born.”
    â€œI’m so sorry,” Sarah said. “If I’d known, I’ve never have kept you. “
    â€œAttending my baby’s christening ball is a very tiny price to pay for marrying a duke’s son, especially when he’s the love of my life. Anyway, I promised Guy to take care of you, and I’m more than happy to do so.”
    â€œMr. Devoran did not wish to meet me privately, before it all starts?”
    Lady Ryderbourne tied on her mask. “Good heavens! It’s already started, and Guy is as essential to the festivities as the duke and duchess themselves. He’s not only my cousin by marriage, but he’s also a very old and dear friend. I’ve known him since I was sixteen. If Guy asks for the moon, we Ryderbournes would cast nets to the heavens to catch it for him.”
    â€œI’m overwhelmed,” Sarah said simply. “I had no idea—”
    â€œNonsense! It’s our pleasure, and you may trust the honor of each of our men implicitly.”
    â€œI don’t know very much about the finer points of honor among the peerage.”
    â€œThough you were married to a captain who fought at Waterloo, I understand,” Lady Ryderbourne said gently. “And that’s the most honorable title that there is. Ah, I see that I’ve spoken out of turn. I’m so sorry.”
    To her intense embarrassment, tears pricked at Sarah’s eyes. Yet it was impossible to resist her hostess’s charm, and especially impossible to resist the certain knowledge that Lady Ryderbourne understood a great deal about the human heart.
    â€œDid Mr. Devoran tell you that?”
    â€œGuy thought I ought to know, but we’ll say no more about it. Here, let me help you with your mask.” Lady Ryderbourne took the slip of blue fabric from Sarah’s hand and tied it securely. “You look wonderful—so mysterious and sensual. You have very lovely eyes, Mrs. Callaway.”
    Sarah blinked away her moment of distress and stared at herself in a wall mirror. The freckle-faced schoolmistress had disappeared. In her place stood an enigmatic, long-necked lady with a witty little hat perched on her silver wig.
    â€œGoodness,” she said. “Not even my own cousin would ever guess it was me.”
    â€œNo one knows who anyone is, which is a big part of the fun.” The new mother linked her arm through Sarah’s. “Everyone is in costume, except the Duke of Blackdown himself and Wellington—and the king, of course.”
    â€œThe king is here?”
    â€œPropped on a large chair filled with cushions. As for Blackdown and the Iron Duke, it’s too far beneath their ducal dignity to cavort about in fancy dress. The duchess, however, is ruling the roost as Queen Elizabeth. Her Grace is even wearing a