Noble Intentions

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Gillian Leigh’s first social event of the Season began with what many in the ton later labeled as an uncanny warning of Things To Come.

“Well, bloody hell. This isn’t going to endear me to the duchess.”

Gillian watched with dismay as flames licked up the gold velvet curtains despite her attempts at beating them out with a tasseled silk cushion. Shrieks of horror and shrill voices behind her indicated that others had spotted her activities, which she had hoped would escape their notice until she had the fire under control.

Two footmen raced past her with buckets of water and soon had the fire extinguished, but it was too late, the damage was done. The duchess’s acclaimed Gold Drawing Room would never be the same again. Gillian stood clutching the sooty cushion to her chest and mournfully watched as the blackened curtains were hastily bundled past the small clutches of people who stood talking intently, looking everywhere but at her.

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