“A fairy queen,” Jemma amended. “One look at you and mortals lose their wits, forever wandering in the depths of the forest.”
“You are rather odd, Jemma, do you know that?”
“I accept that about myself. And I’m not the one with diamonds pasted everywhere from her bottom to her heels.”
“I just want to make it clear to everyone that I’m—it is ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“Everyone knows how much you’re worth, darling,” Jemma said soothingly. “I like the glittering look. It’s a public service. You’ll reflect the candlelight so no one falls overboard. You know, last time the king had a gathering on his yacht, Lord Piddle tripped over his own feet and somersaulted into the water.”
“Did he come back up again?”
“Naturally,” Jemma said. “He floated like a cork.”
“If I fell overboard,” Isidore said, “I would sink like a stone. These diamonds are quite small but put together, they’re quite heavy.”
“I suggest you sit in a throne to receive the admiring hoards.”
Isidore bit her lip.
“Villiers went to fetch him,” Jemma said, guessing exactly what she was thinking.
“What if Villiers can’t convince him?” Isidore said, fear welling up in her heart. “What if Simeon is perfectly happy without me, and has decided I’m just too much trouble?”
“Then we’ll auction your dress in the marketplace and you can buy yourself a new husband.”
By ten in the evening, Isidore was beginning to accept that even the Duke of Villiers couldn’t work miracles. King George III had come and gone, giving his assurance that the bill of divorce her solicitor had submitted would be approved speedily. It should have warmed Isidore’s heart to realize that even a happily married monarch found her bosom appealing, but it didn’t.
Why didn’t Simeon come? She stood up listlessly and put her hand into the hand of some gentleman. She couldn’t even remember his name. There had been so many suitors that she’d taken to describing them to Jemma by their clothes. This one wore a turquoise coat with green buttons. Not a good combination. She managed to find a smile for him.
Turquoise Coat bowed with a great deal of unnecessary hand flourishing, and they eased their way onto the crowded floor. The yacht was ample for a boat, but the king had been lavish with his invitations and there were (in Isidore’s opinion) far too many people onboard. Her panniers kept knocking against those of other ladies, necessitating a constant flow of apologies. What’s more, the gentle rocking motion of the river made dancing all the more difficult, especially when dressed in perilously delicate heels and a cumbersome gown.
She was just twitching her hem out from under the clumsy feet of one of the royal dukes when there was a sudden thump and the entire yacht bounded in the water, as if a giant’s hand had thrown it in the air an inch or two.
The duke frowned as though her gown were to blame and lumbered off to the deck, followed by most of the dancers.
“Peculiar,” her partner remarked. “I wonder what that was about. I suppose we could go look at the water.” The musicians produced one screeching discord, and then settled back to finish the measure.
Some people continued to dance, though most had drifted through the doors that opened onto the deck. She could hear a few shouts from outside. Jemma appeared at her shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “I think another boat has hit us,” she cried over the noise. “I’m looking for Beaumont!” And she was gone.
Turquoise Coat started a running complaint. Drunken river boat captains presented a hazard to everyone on the river…Isidore had a headache, and it wasn’t getting any better listening to prognostications about the rightful punishment that would be meted out to the drunken captain who struck the king’s own yacht.
“If you’ll forgive me, my lord,” she said, “I must retire to the lady’s salon for a moment.”
“I doubt if that is entirely safe,” Turquoise Coat said. “What if the boat has suffered some damage? We should make our way outside.”