The Bachelor List Read Online Free Page A

in
The Mayfair Lady,
have a poste restante address to preserve privacy—”
    “Not to mention our anonymity,” Chastity put in, going over to help Prudence with her hair.
    “Yes, of course.”
    “It's certainly an original idea,” Prudence said thoughtfully, holding up tortoiseshell hairpins for her sister. “I vote we give it a try.”
    “Me too,” Chastity agreed. “I'm going to take the next issue to the printer tomorrow. I'll add the advertisement to the back page. Do you think that's the right spot?” She teased a long ringlet out of her sister's elaborately piled hair and stood gazing intently at her handiwork in the mirror.
    “I think it should go on the front page,” Constance stated. “At least for the first couple of times. Just to draw the most attention. What should we call the service? Something eye-catching.” She frowned in thought, tapping her lips with a fingertip.
    “What's wrong with ‘Go-Between'?” asked Chastity. “Since that's what we're offering.”
    “Nothing wrong with it at all. What d'you think, Prue?”
    “I like it.” Prudence turned her head this way and that to get the full effect of her sister's hairdressing efforts. “You're so good with hair, Chas.”
    “Perhaps I should open a salon.” Chastity grinned. “Where's the curling iron? You need to touch up your side ringlets.”
    “Oh, I have it.” Constance stood up. “In my room. I'll fetch it.” She paused on her way out to examine her own reflection in the long swing mirror by the door. Her evening gown of cream silk chiffon fell in rich folds, the hemline brushing her bronze kid shoes. Her bare shoulders rose from the low neckline edged in coffee lace and a broad satin ribbon of the same color spanned an enviably small waist that owed nothing to the restrictions of whalebone.
    “I think the coffee ribbon and lace really do transform this gown,” she said. “I almost don't recognize it myself and this is its third season.”
    “It doesn't seem to matter what you wear, you always look so elegant,” Chastity observed. “You could be in rags and heads would still turn.”
    “Flattery will get you everywhere.” Constance whisked out of the room in search of the curling iron.
    “It's true,” Chastity said.
    “Yes, but part of Con's charm is that she doesn't seem to notice it. Once she's dressed and checked herself she never looks in a mirror again for the entire evening.” Prudence put on her glasses and peered at her own reflection. She licked her finger and dampened her eyebrows. “I wonder if Max Ensor will be at the Beekmans' this evening.”
    “Why would you wonder that?” Chastity was curious; her sister rarely made purposeless remarks.
    “No reason, really.” Prudence shrugged. “But Con is looking particularly lovely this evening.”
    “You don't think she was attracted to him, surely?”
    “He
is
an attractive man with that silvery dark hair and those blue eyes. You must admit he commands attention.”
    “Well, yes, but Con hasn't been seriously interested in any man since Douglas died. She amuses herself a little but her heart's not in it.” A frown crossed Chastity's countenance, a shadow of sorrow that was mirrored in her sister's eyes.
    “Surely she can't grieve forever,” Prudence said after a minute. “She doesn't show her grief at all, not anymore, but it's still there deep down. It's as if she believes no other man could measure up to Douglas.”
    “When I look around at who's on offer, I tend to agree with her,” Chastity observed with unusual tartness.
    Prudence laughed slightly. “You have a point. But I just felt some stirring in the air this afternoon around Mr. Ensor.”
    “Oh, that was just because Con loves teasing Elizabeth Armitage.”
    “Yes, probably,” Prudence agreed, although the tiny frown remained in her eyes. “Dear Elizabeth, such a
charming
woman.”
    Chastity laughed at this remarkably accurate imitation of the lady's fulsomeness and let the subject