Most longtime readers of Regency Romance will recognize the names of the formidable patronesses of Almack’s, women whose willingness to offer a voucher to a young girl could make or break her London Season. You may as well recognize Lady Heliotrope Beaufetheringstone (pronounced: Batman), more popularly known to people as Lady B.
Lady B has kindly condescended to host our ball and we couldn’t be in better hands (albeit gloved in a persistent shade of peacock), for no one knows society better. In Lady B’s own words: “Society is a divine creation and the ballroom is the epitome of civilization! Indeed, it is where the most important of all social events occur, where gossip and scandal mix with love and romance and in one divine night, the mettle of a young man or woman can be tested.”
Of course, it was only a moment later that Lady B was overheard saying, “Look at that pudding of a man over there—my third cousin, twice removed–not a single tailor in London could improve the profile of his calves. (Unlike my darling Lord B’s legs–Why I married down, of course. Couldn’t resist his handsome gams.) No wonder his mother has taken to drink! But as my grandmother always said, a good purse can make any man attractive to some woman.”
Beau Brummell might be an arbiter of fashion, but we all know that Lady B is the ultimate connoisseur of a good pair of male limbs. And when she’s in a mood, not even Lady B’s relatives—which are many and numerous—are spared her scathing wit (or that of her parrot, Albert).
However with Lady Beaufetheringstone as our hostess, all can be assured that whatever their role, wallflower or incomparable, rake or Corinthian, Whig or Tory, all will have an unforgettable experience! Come, the doors are opening and the ballroom is right this way…