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Lamberton…” his voice grew harder “… banned from the festivities by some toplofty cow.”
    “How dare she!” spluttered Lady Eleanor. “She was not invited, and she is nothing more than a kind of servant.”
    “
She
did not describe you so,” said her brother grimly. “The description is mine alone, I assure you, and it fits you very well. You make so many people unhappy by your snobbery, Eleanor. It was a shabby thing to do!”
    “How dare you preach manners to me,” gasped his sister, her face becoming mottled. “George shall speak most strongly to you.”
    “Don’t go bullying poor George, and don’t fuss Evans either with your plots and plans to marry me off. When I take a bride it will be someone of my own choosing and not some simpering, inbred milk-and-water miss.”
    “No,” sneered Lady Eleanor. “Some lightskirt like Amelia Godolphin, no doubt.”
    “Amelia Godolphin has at least a kind heart where Miss Lamberton is concerned,” said Philip. He saw Amelia approaching and gave her his warmest smile. Amelia smiled back at him from under her long lashes and he caught his breath. She really was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He turned his well-tailored shoulder on his fulminating sister.
    “Walk with me a little, Lady Amelia,” he said, taking her arm. He was about to relate his meeting with Constance but something prompted him to hold his tongue. Amelia thought her rages and jealous scenes well hidden, and would have been amazed to know that they were frequently talked about in about every polite drawing room in London. Instead he said, “I hear that you have engaged Miss Lamberton as companion.”
    “Yes, indeed,” sighed Amelia. “She is rather a tiresome little girl, but she is by way of being a relative and, my dear lord, she had no home—utterly destitute—I felt I had to do something for her. Of course, she could have just lived with me, but then, these terribly religious girls feel they must earn their bread. La! She is forever quoting scripture. I fear she thinks I am shameless.”
    “And you are?” teased Lord Philip in a light voice, but looking down into her beautiful face with such intensity that she felt a pleasurable thrill.
    She gave a delicious trill of laughter and cast down her eyes.
    “I am
eminently
respectable, my lord,” she said, giving his arm a playful rap with her fan.
    “I am very pleased with your concern for little Miss Lamberton,” he said in a low voice. “I would be honored if you would allow me to drive you tomorrow. Shall we say three o’clock?”
    “Delighted,” murmured Amelia, keeping her eyes lowered to hide their triumphant gleam. So Mrs. Besant had been right after all! The little Lamberton had her uses.
    When Constance, much sobered, finally was allowed to leave the library and return home with Lady Amelia, she was surprised to note that her mistress was in a singularly charitable mood. Not only that. When the Comte Duval made one of his late-night calls, he was firmly told that my lady was too fatigued to receive him.
    Perhaps, thought Constance, my life in London will not be so bad after all.

Chapter Five
    In the following days, Lady Amelia’s seemingly rapid rise to respectability amazed social London.
    She was often seen in the company of that notoriously high-stickler, Lord Philip Cautry, and always chaperoned by Miss Constance Lamberton. Miss Lamberton’s late papa had been a trifle rake-helly, chattered the dowagers, but no one could deny that Miss Lamberton herself was a very prim and proper miss.
    Amelia’s cup of happiness was full when, only a week after the
musicale
, vouchers arrived from the haughty Patronesses of Almack’s for both herself and Constance. Amelia opened her purse-strings wide to buy herself the most expensive and elaborate toilette in London—to Constance’s immeasurable relief, since it gave her a brief holiday from her constant dressmaking.
    With the exception of the butler, the servants