When considerably
younger, I read and thoroughly enjoyed the many works of Georgette Heyer. A completely new and colourful world of Regency Romance opened up to me, and I found the whole range of books delightful in the extreme.
One book, The Masqueraders, was to become my favourite, dealing with issues with which I could readily identify. It had everything one could want in a book: -
Wonderful characters,beautiful women, handsome heroes, nasty villains, duels by moonlight, deception, love and romance, highwaymen, heroic deeds and horse-back rides across open countryside. Good triumphed over evil, and true love prevailed.
It also had a hero who spent most of the book dressed as a beautiful woman, and a heroine who appeared as a man.
I have planned for a long time to modernise the story, using those wonderful characters that Georgette introduced to me then. Now I feel I am in a position to fulfil that ambition, and if this turns out half as good as the original, then I will be well pleased.
I make no apology for lifting the book from the eighteenth century and plonking it into the twenty-first. I am probably breaching all manner of copyright laws, but I state now that although the opening of the story is based on that great book, by the very nature of the world we find ourselves, my story will be different, save some of the names and the fact that it takes part in London. Anyone who has read the original work will be able to see where I am going to end up, but hopefully not the direction I intend to take to get there.
My thanks to those who helped me edit, but mainly my thanks to the late, great Georgette Heyer for being such an inspiration.
Tanya Allan
Modern Masquerade
by Tanya.J.Allan
Part Five
New Friends
“I’m not happy with this,” Pru admitted, as Rob helped her with the
black bow tie.
“You’ll be fine.”
“I just feel he’ll find me out, and I can’t face the humiliation.
He’ll be so angry and it isn’t fair to him.”
“You’ll be fine. Man-mountain is as blind as a bat, you’ll dance
rings round him. There, a work of art, even if I say so myself.”
He stood by his sister and they both regarded her reflection in the
full-length mirror.
The dinner jacket (tuxedo, for the North Americans) fitted
perfectly, and with a crimson cummerbund, she looked very dashing.
“I’m shaking,” she admitted.
“You’ll be fine,” Rob repeated.
She made a face, desperately torn. On the one hand she knew she had
to keep to the plan, yet on the other, she wanted to throw away Peter and be
herself. She found Tony attractive and wanted earnestly to be the woman for
him.
“Maybe he’s gay, and fancies your bum.”
“Rob. That’s disgusting!”
“Look, if he’s straight, then you’ve nothing to worry about. If
he’s not, he’s in for a disappointment, isn’t he?”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, noting that Rob was still
dressed as Katie, even if in jeans and a sweater.
“Letty and I are going up to the West End to see a film.”
“Oh Rob, be careful.”
“I shall. Look, I like the girl, and want to be with her. I promise
I’ll behave and won’t disgrace myself by giving the game away.”
Rob brushed a spec of dust of his sister’s shoulders.
“You’re as ready as can be. Just go and enjoy yourself. Try to
relax and go with the flow.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Oh, Pru, just relax. If things get sticky, make an excuse and
leave. Say you’ve got jet-lag or something.”
There were sounds of movement downstairs, and Theresa’s voice
shouted up.
“Peter, Tony’s here.”
“Oh shit!”
“He’s coming,” shouted Rob.
“I feel like a girl on her first date.”
“Pru, you are, but he doesn’t know it yet.”
“Oh, Rob, what do I do?”
Rob grabbed her by the arm and physically pulled her out of the room
and to the stairs. By the time they reached the foot of the stairs, she was
able to move without assistance.
“Hi, Peter, ready?” Tony asked.
“Yup.”
“Gosh, Katie, you’re looking lovely. Letty says you’re both off to
the cinema. Have fun.”
“Thanks Tony, try not to get my brother too drunk.”
With a nervous smile, Pru followed Tony out of the house. Theresa
turned to Rob.
“She’s very nervous, why?”
“I think she thinks she’s in love,” Rob said with a grin.
“With Tony? How delightful. So many girls have yet to snare that
one. They would make a perfect match.”
“Aren’t you forgetting someone?”
“Oh, your Papa. He’ll be fine with it. Tony is of an impeccable
family. And he’s filthy rich.”
Rob laughed, as Theresa pronounced it as ‘feelthy’.
Rob pulled on his leather jacket and slung the strap of his bag over
his shoulder. He then stood facing the hall mirror, shaking out his hair and
repairing his lipstick.
“Is Tony gay?” he asked.
“Oh dear me, no. At least, I don’t think so, why?”
“If he is, then Pru is in more danger than we thought. If he isn’t,
and twigs, the result could be similar.”
Theresa found this enormously humorous, and she gave Rob a hug as
the lad left the house.
“Ever been to a club?” Tony asked, as they made their way towards
the Hyde Park end of
Piccadilly, and the Cavalry and Guards Club.
“I’ve not been in England since I was two.”
“I forgot, sorry. But surely they have similar abroad?”
“They had one in India, but I was only a child. I just remember the Indian army officers
being almost more English than the Brits. It was very strange. I went to an
American Officer’s club, and that was slightly different, I think.”
“Never fancy the forces as a career?”
Pru smiled and shook her head.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I think you’d like it.”
“Perhaps,” she said, noncommittally.
“Well, not to worry, you’ll meet some of the chaps I used to soldier
with. There will be twelve of us. Six from the regiment and each with a
guest.”
“Oh, no women then?”
“No, chaps only, so the jokes will be slightly juicy.”
“Ah!”
“No girl friend, young Peter?”
“No, not at the moment. How about you?”
“Lots have tried, but I have yet to find one that meets my exacting
standards.”
“And just what are they?”
“I rather subscribe to Professor Henry Higgins’ view,” Tony said,
with a chuckle.
“Oh, that a woman should be more like a man?”
“Capital. You know My Fair Lady?”
Pru grinned.
“It was my mother’s favourite show. Dad would play the video
endlessly, just to remind himself of happier times.”
“I know it’s frightfully non-PC, but I can’t be doing with those
women who get all fluffy about life. Take your sister, she’s lovely, but
probably knows more about those clothes she wears than could possibly be good
for her. Every time I’ve seen her, she looks wonderful, but can she unhitch a
trailer from a Land Rover, or grab a sheep with its head stuck through a barbed
wire fence?”
“Actually, yes, she can. Katie is hardly your normal girl. She is
a better shot than most men I know, she rides a motorcycle and she swears like
one of your troopers.”
“Really? Hmm, interesting,” said Tony with a strange expression in
his eye.
Pru closed her eyes briefly, wondering why she couldn’t just keep
her big mouth shut. Now the man she fancied was interested in her brother
because she just sold him to the man. Sod!
“However,” she continued. “She has more clothes than we have wardrobes,
she takes forever to get ready for anything, and just can’t hold her liquor.”
“I could live with that,” Tony said with a smile. Pru almost rose
to the bait, but then realised he was teasing her.
“Here we are.”
It was an imposing building with remarkable views of GreenPark, in the heart of Mayfair. They entered and Pru found herself in a spectacular hallway, with
a black and white checked floor and an ornate staircase winding upwards past
the chandeliers.
“We’re in the Double Bridal Room on the second floor. It’s at the
back of the building, but it’s nice and quiet. We can get hopelessly pissed
and no one will give a damn.”
That’s
nice,” said Pru, not meaning it at all. Suddenly, she was feeling even more
nervous. They went up the stairs, finding the room indeed tucked away at the
back of the building. Four men had already arrived; standing with drinks in
their hands. All were wearing dinner jackets, so Pru felt less conspicuous. One
was wearing full mess dress, including medals and three pips of rank.
“Fanny!
Good to see you man,” said a very jovial looking young man with a florid face
and large paunch.
Pru
was amused by Tony’s nickname, storing it away for future use.
“Podger, still too fat, I see,” said Tony, shaking the other’s hand.
“This is a young
friend of mine, Peter Marriott. He’s very bravely agreed to come along and
partake of a boozy evening with us tonight. The overweight oaf is Paul
Stewart-Grant, the thin captain in mess kit, with the silly moustache is Archie
McRae, and I’m afraid I don’t know their guests.”
The men introduced themselves to Pru. All were mid to late twenties,
and so far these were all taller than she. Before any conversation could
start, the other six arrived. Pru was introduced to them all, but instantly
forgot their names.
Tony handed her a gin and tonic, which she gratefully sipped. Then
she gasped. It was fifty percent gin. She knew full well that two of these,
and she was going to be in great danger of losing whatever control she had.
She walked over to the single large round table and looked at the menu, while
seeking somewhere to dispose her drink unobserved.
The menu looked delicious, and as she glanced at the eleven men, it
dawned on her that not one of them had the slightest notion that a female had
penetrated their traditional defences and was even now lurking in their midst.
Tiger Prawns & Sole Terrine
with a
Roast Yellow Pepper Coulis
* * *
Breast of Duck with a
Honey & Ginger Sauce
Châteaux Potatoes
Panache of Root Vegetables
* * *
Passion Fruit Tart with
Crème Fraiche
* * *
Coffee
“Looks good enough to eat,”
said Tony, as he
joined her at the
table. He rested
on hand on her shoulder.
“It
does; the prawns in Australia
will take some
beating, I have to say.”
Tony smiled. Pru suddenly felt a
prickle of
apprehension. Did the man know? Did he suspect? Why was he so friendly? Was
Rob right, was he gay? She suddenly didn’t want to be here. Yet, the touch of
his hand and his proximity to her excited her in ways she had never experienced
before.
They all had another drink before
dinner, and much to Pru’s consternation, she was forced to drink them both.
She took the opportunity to escape to the lavatory, and seated in the cubicle,
she attempted to make sense of her confusion.
Her father had strictly instructed her to keep a low profile and
avoid any extensive socialising whereby she could be readily identified or
exposed. She laughed, without any humour. It was day two, and she was already
doing everything wrong. She shook her head sadly and concluded her business.
However, just before leaving the cubicle, two men entered, and were obviously
stood at the urinals.
“Who’s that young chap with Tony?” one asked the other.
“No idea, a Peter someone. Never seen him before.”
“Is he army?”
“Don’t think so. Tony mentioned something about being in law.”
“Looks too young to be a barrister. How did Tony meet him?”
“He and his sister helped out with his cousin, you remember her, the
one who nearly ran off with that black rapper last year?”
“What Letty?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Nice girl, pity about the old man. He’s so over protective, it’s
no wonder the poor girl wants to run away the whole time.”
The men progressed from the urinal to the washbasins.
“Still, Peter has a gorgeous sister, by all accounts.”
“Really?”
“Yah, Tony said she’s a real blonde bombshell, and quite a
character. She and Letty have gone up town to the cinema tonight.”
“I’ll have to see if I can’t meet her. What’s her name?”
“Katie, I think.”
The men left, and Pru couldn’t help smiling. The coast clear, she
came out of the cubicle, washed her hands, and returned to the small chamber.
The men were all sitting and she took her place next to Tony. She
watched with dismay as a large glass of white wine was poured into an enormous
glass.
“We’ve a beautiful burgundy for the next course,” said the captain.
Pru groaned inwardly. This was going to be tough, as she was
already feeling slightly tipsy.
Meanwhile, across town in a cinema just off Leicester
Square, Letty sat close to Rob watching an American
chick flick. They were sharing a tub of popcorn, and Letty had held Rob’s arm
since they left the house.
“I can’t remember the last time I went to the cinema,” Letty
whispered.
“Me neither.” Rob said, feeling intoxicated by the scent in Letty’s
hair. The sticking plaster holding him in place was seriously threatened, and
he tried to concentrate on the movie. It was utter balls, but Letty was
enjoying it, and so Rob sat there, simply enjoying being with her.
After the movie ended, they went to Garfunkles to grab something to
eat. They lined up behind the ‘Wait Here To Be Seated’ sign, and Letty chatted
inanely about the film. She tucked her arm through Rob’s, and they looked just
like two girls out on the town.
Carlo Pascini had been working in London for three years. Now, as headwaiter, he had an eye for the pretty
girls. Not only did his Latin charm usually ensure the girls were good
tippers, he had an excellent record of persuading them to meet him later.
It was the blonde one that caught his eye. She was with a smaller
darker girl, who was equally pretty, but less dynamic somehow. He busied
himself, helping arrange tables, watching her as he did so. She was like a
lioness, gentle and deliberate in movement, but with hidden power and strength.
She became aware of his gaze and their eyes met. Her blue eyes were
wonderful, but also quite fearless. She met and held his stare so that it was
he who broke away, slightly breathless and intrigued. He had found his quarry
for the evening.
The two girls were behind a party of five young men. He found a
table for two that became free, and rapidly cleared it, resetting it in record
time. He approached the line. Holding up a hand with two fingers raised, he
stared at the blonde girl and smiled.
“Two, I have a table for two!”
It was the darker girl who stuck up her hand, and he let them
through to guide them to their table.
“Buonasera, belle signorine!” he said.
To his dismay, the object of his desire smiled sweetly and replied
in fluent Italian.
“Taglio l'amoreggia, e ci dà il menu!” (Cut the flirting and give us
the menu)
“E italiano, Signorina?”
“No,” she said, sitting in the chair he held for her.
He nodded and smiled. She was even more of a challenge now!
“You would like a drink?” he asked.
“White wine for me,” said the darker girl.
“Beer, a pint of John Smiths, please.”
Carlo, smiling and nodding, thought this girl was wonderful.
The girls chatted like old friends. Actually, Rob said very little
as Letty said enough for both of them. Rob discovered rather a lonely girl,
who was seeking stability and freedom from her father. Despite all that had
happened, she adored her father, who obviously thought the world of her.
“Why can’t I meet that special man, the one I dream about every
night?” she asked Rob.
“Tell me about him,” Rob asked.
“Well, he’s not as big as Tony, we’d have to fit well together, so
he’s not too tall. He’s strong and very quick. But most of all, he has a
smile that melts my heart. He would find me an icicle from an Alpine waterfall
to cool my drink, and he’d leave me a single white rose on my bedside for me to
find in the morning.”
“White?”
“I adore white roses. He’d be so fair, to contrast with my dark
hair, and he’d be like you.”
“Me?” said Rob, almost dropping into a dangerous octave through
surprise.
“Yes, he’d be able to speak in lots of different languages, and just
be able to protect me from harm for the rest of my life.”
“Tall order, I doubt one like that exists,” Rob said.
“He exists!” she said, quite certain.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen him.”
“When?” he asked, frowning.
“In my dreams. He comes to me every night.”
“What’s he look like?”
“I told you,” she said, grinning.
“His face, what’s his face look like?”
“I don’t know, as he wears a mask. You know, like Batman and
Robin.”
“Letty you are an incurable romantic. No one wears masks these
days.”
“He does.”
Rob laughed and Letty joined in. Carlo brought their drinks.
They ordered their food, and Rob, recognising the predatory nature
of the Italian, flirted outrageously with the poor man.
The food was adequate and just the quantity they needed, and in a
busy restaurant, they were able to chatter in privacy in the midst of so much
noise.
“So, when do you start at your new job?” Letty asked.
“Monday.”
“Where is it?”
“TremaineTower is just down from Victoria station towards the Houses of
Parliament. It’s not far from New Scotland Yard. St James tube station is the
closest.”
“Not far then.”
“No.”
“I’m still trying to get a job, but the HND isn’t really enough for
most papers.”
“Why not do a degree?”
“I don’t want to. I have to be honest, I don’t need a job.
Certainly not for the money, but I want to get out and see the world. I wanted
to do VSO, you know, to go and help out in some poor country or something, but
Daddy refused to let me go until I was over twenty-one. I get all my
inheritance then, you see.”
“When is your birthday?”
“Not until August, why?”
“I have a feeling you’ll meet the man of your dreams before then, and
he’ll whisk you away to places you haven’t dreamed about yet.”
Letty smiled.
“You’re teasing me.”
“A little, but I actually think you will find him. How do you think
you’ll meet?”
“Oh, it has to be in a castle, with a full moon, and he’ll wear his
mask. I’ll know him by his smile, and he’ll speak to me in French, calling me
‘Ma chéri’.”
“I was right, you are incurable,” Rob said, smiling and wondering
where the hell he could find a mask.
They paid for the meal, and left a love-torn Carlo wondering where
he had gone wrong. They caught a cab, to drop Letty off first.
“I wonder how Peter is getting on,” Letty said.
“Hmm, I wonder.”
Pru was drunk. She knew she was drunk, and had just heard one of
the most revolting stories she had ever heard. They had reached the cigar and
brandy stage and she had managed not to be sick, but had yet to fall over.
She told a story about an English sailor who went to bed with a
prostitute, only to find the girl was a boy. The punch line contained words
she had never before spoken, and yet the men seemed to appreciate it.
She saw Tony smiling at her, and her heart ached. She wanted to
grab him, confess all and ask him to take her to bed. However, she didn’t. She
excused herself and went to the lavatory again.
She sat on the toilet, bowed over with her head on her arms. She
found herself silently crying tears of frustration. Why can’t I be me? She
asked herself.
Hearing no answer, she cried a little more.
“Peter, are you in here?” Tony’s voice asked.
“Yes, won’t be a minute.”
“Okay chap, I’ve had enough, so if you don’t mind, we’ll make a
move. Archie’s just thrown up in the fireplace.”
Pru started to laugh, and managed to dress herself without too much
trouble.
The others were as bad or worse than they, so after saying goodnight,
they left.
“Look, old man, my place is closer than yours, why don’t you crash
on the sofa, just for the night?” Tony said.
A sofa sounded heavenly to Pru so she heard herself agreeing. They
arrived at a small mews and Tony’s flat was half way down on the right hand
side. He fumbled with the key and managed to open the door.
It was a two bedroom flat, but one bedroom was full of computer
equipment and loads of files. The living area was all open-plan.
“Sofa’s there, bathroom’s there, good night.”
Tony left her alone, and shut his bedroom door.
She sat on the sofa and took off her jacket and tie, loosening the
cummerbund with some relief. Her right shirtsleeve was stained red with at
least two glasses of wine that she’s ‘accidentally’ managed to flick down her
sleeve to avoid drinking too much.
She went into the bathroom rinsed out the worst of the wine from the
sleeve, and washed her face. She was conscious of that strange kind of
numbness that alcohol has on the face.
She returned to the sofa, pulled up a tartan travel rug, and fell
back, asleep almost immediately. She was still wearing her trousers and soggy
shirt.