Frances allowed herself a quick sigh of relief. One hurdle had been cleared, now on to the next. Night had fallen by the time they drew up outside the residence of Lord and Lady Dalrymple. Burning torches lit the entrance and a steady stream of beautifully dressed guests were making their way in. She waited a few minutes as a large party got out of several coaches and reformed, laughing together, on the pavement. 

In a flash she was out of her carriage and had attached herself to the rear of them. She followed them up the steps keeping just far enough behind not to attract their attention. She pretended to stumble on the top step and then hurried after them, with a petulant "Well, I do think you might wait for me!" Looking neither right nor left at the doormen, she passed unchallenged into the hallway.  

Lord and Lady Dalrymple were standing just inside the doorway ahead to welcome guests, smiles fixed on their faces. Frances followed her camouflage party. Before her courage could desert her, she curtseyed to her hosts and said smilingly, "Tonight I am Diana, my Lord". 

The rather portly gentleman before her looked a bit taken aback, then said gallantly, "A goddess, indeed!" and bowed her through to his wife. Frances curtseyed a second time and moved on without speaking again. She had done it! She was in. For a moment relief threatened to overwhelm her but she breathed deeply and soon found her way to the centre of the ballroom. 

Almost immediately a tall Harlequin approached her for a dance and Frances found herself whirling around the ballroom. It was all very informal and she enjoyed herself immensely. After dancing for nearly an hour with several different partners, she remembered her primary purpose in attending. She disengaged herself with some difficulty from a young red haired Walter Raleigh and went looking for the powder room. It was upstairs and crowded as usual with young girls chattering about their admirers. On the pretext of pinning up a torn hem Frances sat down quietly in a corner and listened. 

"Lord Henley has asked me to dance twice already ..." 

"and I said I'd be delighted if only ..." 

"Have you seen what Honoria is wearing?" 

"Is the one all in black Jack Lambert do you think?" 

Suddenly out of the medley of gossip, Frances heard a familiar name and she leant a little closer. 

"Mama wishes me to accept Lord Carleton - if he offers for me, but he's so cold! I'd rather have someone lively and gay like Jack Lambert. You're so lucky, Amanda, although nothing has been announced yet has it?" The young voice added thoughtfully. The owner was a girl of perhaps eighteen, with golden curls, a pink rosebud mouth and large blue eyes, rather close set, thought Frances nastily to herself. She was exquisitely dressed in a pale blue gown and wore a string of pearls around her slender neck. 

Her companion would have been considered pretty enough if she had been alone, but she appeared dull and ordinary next to the blonde vision. Brown ringlets framed her face and her pale pink gown was in the latest fashion. She was using her black mask as a fan and paused for a moment to reply confidently "No, nothing has been arranged yet but 'tis only a matter of time now mama says. After all it would be such a suitable match with his lands so near to Fenhurst." 

"I find it difficult to picture Jack settling down to a quiet life in the country! What about his opera dancers?" exclaimed her friend. 

"Really, Rosamond!" protested Amanda with a frown, "I don't know what you mean!" She put the mask back on her face rather forcefully. "Are you ready yet? We should return to Aunt Louisa." 

Rosamond laughed and glanced quickly again in the mirror. "Yes, I'm ready. By all means let's find Aunt Louisa." The two girls went out together. 

Frances continued to sew, her head bent down over her lap. She had almost finished when another young girl burst into the room holding a trailing hem above the floor. Grey eyes met blue and they both laughed. 

"Men are such clumsy creatures!" exclaimed the new comer, sitting down beside Frances. "Oh you do sew neatly! I make such big crooked stitches, Sophie says a child could do better. It's only a little tear ... I don't suppose you would consider...?" her eager voice trailed off hopefully. Frances looked into an enchanting little face, framed with dusky brown curls setting off an enormous pair of blue eyes and a smiling mouth. Her lips curved despite herself and she nodded. 

"Alright, I'll fix that for you if you like, at least so that it will hold for tonight. Perhaps we had better introduce ourselves. I'm Diana ... Diana Murray," she added with sudden improvisation. 

"Oh would you? How kind you are! I'm Sammy Fairfax. Sammy is short for Rosamonda of all things but there are two of us this Season so I decided on Sammy. It's what I am always called at home and I like it much better anyway," she chattered on. "Sophie says it's not ladylike, which may be true, but I don't look particularly "boyish" do I?" she demanded archly, a dimple suddenly appearing in one cheek. 

"No", agreed Frances, taking in the small but very female figure. "I think it suits you very well. I've finished here so if you would show me the hem which needs attention ..." 

Sammy shuffled around and eventually located the tear. It was on the other side of her dress so she exchanged places with Frances who began to repair the damage. "This thread is not the same colour as your material," she observed, "So you will have to get someone to mend it properly for you when you get home." 

"I'm very grateful - are you new in town? I don't think I've seen you before."  

"Yes, I've just come up from the country for a short visit. Is this your first Season?" 

"Oh yes. I've only been out two months. Everything is so exciting in London, isn't it? I don't think I've stayed home for one night in weeks! I want to live here for ever and ever and never go back to Surrey. Sophie says I shall have to find a husband who prefers London, but I don't think I shall want a husband for simply ages yet. Sophie is my sister-in-law you know, she married my older brother Harry and I'm staying with them for the Season." 

The name suddenly rang a bell and Frances queried, "Would that be Lady Fairfax then?" 

"Yes, that's right. Do you know her?" 

"No, only I think we go to the same dress shop! There, I think that should hold up for the rest of the night." She rose to her feet. Sammy jumped up and thanked her again. They left the room together, Sammy continuing to chatter away about the dresses she'd worn and the balls she'd attended, so that Frances felt she knew half of London society just from listening to her. During a brief pause for breath, she asked idly."I believe I have a distant relation in London, Lady Julia Murray, do you know of her at all?" 

Sammy frowned thoughtfully. "Lady Murray," she mused. "No I do not think I have met her. I could ask Sophie if you like, she knows everyone! Do come and meet her, I am sure you would get on famously!" 

Frances hesitated, the knowledgeable Lady Fairfax sounded like someone she should definitely avoid, as she would certainly be much more interested in her background and credentials than the artless Sammy. She had a sudden inspiration, why not tell the truth? Or at least part of it. Her look of embarrassment was not wholly feigned. 

"Another time perhaps ... you see the trouble is that this gown," she gestured at it, "was actually made for Lady Fairfax! She found it did not suit her but I just fell in love with it. However, you do see why I could not meet her while wearing it!"  

Sammy looked concerned. "No, I do see that. Well, I shall ask her about your cousin myself and pass it on to you later." She smiled conspiratorily and they both replaced their masks and stepped out into the ballroom. 

Sammy was immediately surrounded by a flock of young men, eagerly begging her for the next dance. She smiled happily at all of them, "No thankyou, Sir Thomas, I've danced with you already and you too, Jack, I mean Mr Lambert. What is the next dance by the way? Oh a waltz? Then I shall be pleased to accept you, Nick, you dance it beautifully." She was whisked away by a slender young man with bright red hair and freckles and Frances found that the man she had addressed as Jack Lambert was asking her to dance instead. 

"I don't think we have been introduced yet, Miss ...?" he paused invitingly. 

"Diana" answered Frances smiling saucily. She spoke with a slight French accent. "And I would love to dance, thank you m'sieur." 

He looked at her with rather more interest and led her out onto the dance floor. Like many of the guests he had not come in costume but merely wore a black mask over his eyes. Jack Lambert was a tall well built man with broad shoulders and the well muscled thighs of an athlete. He was a little older than the other two men, perhaps nearer to thirty than twenty. Although he danced superbly, Frances thought that he would be more at home on horseback or even in a boxing ring. He held her firmly but impersonally and Frances enjoyed the sheer speed and movement of the dance, despite a wayward moment of speculation as to how Carleton would be to dance with. They exchanged a few idle commonplaces but Frances noticed the curiosity in his eyes as he studied her. 

"Do I know you?" he asked. 

"No, you haven't met me before," she said boldly. "In fact I doubt you will meet me again. I am just up to London for a short visit." 

"Where do you come from, Diana?" 

"Abroad," she replied. 

He raised his eyebrows. "But you know Sammy Fairfax?" 

Frances was silent as they spun neatly around a slower couple in their path, then said frankly, "No, I met her for the first time tonight." 

"A woman of mystery indeed!"  

She laughed, enjoying being able to hold his attention. She had noticed the blonde Rosamond staring at them from the sidelines and was pleased he hadn't glanced at her. Lambert watched the mischievous smile on her lips and said suddenly, "I have an odd feeling that you are not a respectable person Diana." 

"No" she agreed, "I am an adventuress. Lord and Lady Dalrymple have never met me before and I just walked in off the street!" 

For a second he almost believed her, then laughed at her joke. He recalled then that Lady Fairfax was a tall woman and also Sammy's sister-in-law by Jove. Perhaps it was her, that mask certainly concealed a lot of her face. "Forgive me," he answered. "I shall be anxious to see you again after midnight, per chance I will find I know you after all." 

Frances just smiled demurely and he considered the possibility of setting up a flirtation with her, discreetly of course. The music finished at that point and rather reluctantly, he released her. Frances curtseyed and left him to go in search of a glass of lemonade. The time had flown and she should start to think about leaving shortly. Perhaps she could find Sammy after her drink and then leave, she mused. She found the bowl of iced lemonade in the supper room and was just about to ask a footman to serve her when Lord Carleton spoke beside her. 

"May I be of assistance?" Frances started and was glad she did not have a glass in her hand as she would have dropped it. 

"Thank you, m'sieur", she replied, emphasising her French accent to disguise her voice. "Some lemonade please." He looked very elegant she thought, in black ball dress with white lace frothing at his wrists and collar. He poured the lemonade for her and then a second glass. He gave the first to her with a brief smile then turned away to where Frances could see the blonde Rosamond seated against the wall. Not only did he not recognise me thought Frances ruefully, he scarcely even noticed me. She left the supper room sipping her lemonade and went in search of Sammy. 

Sammy however was engaged in a country dance and she realised she would not be able to approach her about Lady Murray for some time. Avoiding Jack Lambert, who appeared to be searching the room for someone, Frances stepped back into the supper room for a glance at the gilt clock on the sideboard. Half past eleven, time to go she decided. Making her way casually through the crowded ballroom, she had just stepped into the hallway when Sammy dashed up to her. 

"You're not leaving already, Diana?" she protested. 

"Yes, I must. My companion is waiting, she is not feeling well," Frances prevaricated. 

"Oh, I am so sorry ... but I asked Sophie about Lady Murray as I said I would, and she said the only one she knows is an old lady who lives very retired these days, but her name is Anna not Julia so I don't know if she is your cousin or not." 

Frances untangled the sense of this and queried "An old lady? Do you know how old?" To a girl as young as Sammy, forty could appear "old". 

"Yes, around seventy, Sophie said." 

"Perhaps she has a daughter?" 

Sammy's face fell. "I didn't think of that ... but wouldn't she be called Lady Julia instead of Lady Murray?" 

Frances nodded as her young friend continued. "I will ask Sophie and let you know next time we meet." 

"Thank you, Sammy, I shall call on you one day soon," Frances promised, then hurried out to meet her coach feeling like Cinderella. 

John was waiting with the coach across the road, and she hurried over so as not to keep the horses standing too long. He opened the door for her, shut it firmly, then climbed up into the driver's seat and sent the pair trotting over the cobblestones. Inside, she drew the curtains and changed awkwardly out of her gown and into the boots and breeches. At the last minute she remembered to pull off her wig and wipe the powder off her face. Clutching the cloak about her, she left the coach a couple of hundred yards from the Pelican and walked the rest of the way while John trotted past her to return the team to the stables. 

Frances reached her room without attracting undue attention. Carefully she sponged off a couple of small stains then packed the gown out of sight at the bottom of her bag along with the slippers and gloves. It would never do for a chambermaid to see them lying about. "What a night," she said to herself yawning. "I enjoyed dancing with Jack Lambert and I liked Sammy. I do not think much of Rosamond whatever-her-name is though, a nasty little cat. Carleton could do much better for himself surely. I hope he is not too taken with her." 

Gentle snores greeted John when he came in later to check on her, and he left as silently as he had entered. 

Meanwhile, back at the ball, Jack Lambert searched unsuccessfully for a tall lady in a green dress. Eventually he approached Sammy. "Where is your friend Diana?" he asked as casually as he could. 

She turned wide blue eyes on him. "She went home before midnight. Why?" she asked saucily. 

"None of your business chit!" he grinned at her. "I'd like to call on her, can you give me her address?" 

Sammy frowned suddenly, "No I am afraid I can't, I'm sorry but she didn't tell me." 

He raised an eyebrow. 

"It's true, Jack. I met her tonight for the first time, and somehow it didn't come up in the conversation." 

"You only met her tonight?" he asked, half incredulous. 

She nodded vigorously. "Yes, she helped me with my gown. All I know is that her name is Diana Murray and she is visiting London from the country." Lambert was about to question her further, still half believing "Diana" was Sophie Fairfax playing a joke, when Lady Fairfax herself came up to Sammy. She was wearing a blue gown and he saw immediately that her eyes were brown and not grey and that her mouth was a different shape. He bowed hastily and withdrew, his mind seething with conjecture. 

Carleton was dancing for the second time with Rosamond Lyle and thinking how pretty she was. It was a pity she was so shy, she seldom had much to say to him. Perhaps he could take her driving one day and he could gain her confidence. Rosamond thought about Jack Lambert.