Harriet was so startled that her mouth fell open.
“You’re such an innocent,” Nell said, shaking her head. “It’s a fair question, Harry. You have a look about you that is very attractive to certain men.”
Harriet gulped. “I do?”
“I suppose that means you do like women?”
“Oh, definitely!” Harriet babbled. “Definitely. Of course. All the time.”
Nell laughed, but it was a nice laugh. “I’ll do something for you too, Harry. You get my letter to Strange—and make sure he reads it—and I’ll introduce you to one of the Graces. A friendly Grace, if you take my meaning.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Harriet said hastily. “I’d be happy to bring the letter. What sort of thing do you plan to write?”
“I’ll tell him to visit my room,” Nell said, brightening up. “Men like women to be very straightforward about these things.”
Harriet shot a look at Strange. He was dancing with a young woman who was smiling at him lavishly. She was exquisitely dressed in a cream gown embroidered with flowers, worn with an overskirt of puckered gauze in a ruby color. The flowers shimmered under the gauze. Harriet felt a stab of pure feminine longing.
“I can see what you’re thinking,” Nell said, giggling. “You can’t possibly afford her. That’s Sophia Grafton. She’s monstrously extravagant. I heard that she sometimes visits the mercer and pays thirty or forty guineas for a coat of winter silk, and then purchases two or three more. And she doesn’t even wear the extras, just gives them to her maids. She has four maids, just for herself. Can you imagine?”
“But you said there weren’t ladybirds at Fonthill?” Harriet asked dubiously.
“Well, if you want to be strict about the label,” Nell said. “But you’d never win Sophia Grafton with a simple offer of money, if that’s what you’re thinking. At the moment she is accompanied by Lord Childe. See, he’s over there on the side of the room, talking to one of the Graces.”
The Grace in question had a blowsy, huge hair style with six or seven jeweled combs stuck in at various angles.
“I expect Sophia Grafton would drop Childe like a scorched potato if Strange showed any interest.”
“Well, that’s my point,” Harriet said. “I’m not sure that a simple letter inviting him to your bed will be sufficient. Surely Miss Grafton has also issued such an invitation, in writing or otherwise.”
Nell looked offended. “I hardly compare myself to Sophia Grafton! Why, she has to be twenty-six if she’s a day. I’m sure she has wrinkles around her eyes. Just look at her. She’s the sort who lies around on a couch all day long and sighs. Not very much fun in the bedchamber, if you’ll excuse the familiarity, Harry.”
Harriet saw exactly what she meant. “But I still think that Lord Strange has received many an invitation. You need to intrigue him somehow. Make yourself stand out.”
Nell was silent for a moment. “I know! I could paint myself all over with gold and stick pearls on my body. Lord Strange’s new secretary is a Frenchwoman, and she was telling me that Frenchwomen sometimes do that.”
“But…” Harry said dubiously.
“I could have myself brought to his room in the guise of a statue,” Nell said. “And then the statue could come to life! And do such things as he would never forget!” She was grinning. “It would be positively Shakespearean. Shakespeare wrote a play where a statue comes to life, you know.”
Harriet was starting to feel very affectionate toward Nell. She’d never met anyone like her. “Just what sort of things do you have in mind?” she asked curiously.
But she’d forgotten that she was dressed as a man, and Nell burst out laughing. “You’ll have to discover those from some other woman, Harry my dear.”
“I think gold paint sounds sticky and uncomfortable,” Harriet said. “And while you may be thinking that I have little experience, Nell, that is not the case.”