“The guests were milling about angrily while soldiers searched behind draperies and furnishings, but also narrowly scanned the room’s occupants. “As though,” protested one indignant dowager, less outlandishly than she could know, “we had Jacobites concealed about our persons!” The major-domo conferred with Sir Peter, then announced from the dais that The Scarlet Signorina was definitely the Queen of the Midsummer’s Eve Ball. A loud, defiant cheer went up. The orchestra began the introduction to ...a country dance, which Rebecca and Ward led. Gradually, the guests began to forget their pique, and soon the ball was in full sway once more. Dancing, chatting, smiling, flirting, all were mechanical for Rebecca. Her mind was occupied with two things. Firstly, her dread that Trevelyan de Villars would be at any moment dragged forth by the soldiers and taken to meet a ghastly death. Secondly, Snowden. Again and again her eyes searched the crowd, but at length she was forced to the admission that her brother must not be here.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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