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Back The Dazzle of the Light Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Praise for Georgina Clarke
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. Historical Note
  52. Acknowledgements
  53. Also by Georgina Clarke
  54. About the Author
  55. Copyright

Harriet clenches her left hand inside her glove to feel the solidity of the diamonds on it. She is one of the lucky ones. She must always remember that.

She reaches the front door of her parents’ house – a fine town house in one of South Kensington’s grander squares – and checks her wristwatch by the light of the lamp. Her journey has been swift, and she does not need to rehearse an excuse. She puts a hand to one of the thick columns that supports the portico and turns to gaze out over the dark gated garden that graces the square. She has many reasons to be thankful for her lot.

4

4

Saturday evening

Isabel Littlemore is in the hallway when Harriet pushes open the door. One of the blocks of the parquet floor is loose and makes a heavy clack-clack sound as she walks over it. She frowns as she hears it. The uneven floor might irritate her more than Harriet’s arrival, but when she sees her daughter dressed in her office clothes – with a hemline far too short for decency – and catches the miasma of cigarette smoke that follows her into the house, she is reminded of her customary cause for dismay.

‘You’re late, Harriet.’

‘Good evening, Mummy.’ Harriet knows that she is not late, but to enter into an argument on the threshold of the house would be unwise.

‘Ralph will be here very soon. You’ll need to change for dinner.’ The words are issued as a command.

Harriet smiles brightly as she pulls off her gloves and unbuttons her coat. ‘Of course. I stink of the office.’ She knows that easy compliance is almost as much of a provocation to her mother as contention. She hands her coat and hat to the waiting maid and kisses her mother lightly on the cheek before making her way upstairs.

Isabel’s lips tighten as she stares at her daughter’s ankles.

‘Put that out to air somewhere,’ she snaps at the maid, who is clutching the coat.

The loose wooden block clacks again as the girl leaves.

Isabel needs to speak to Gerald but doesn’t know whether he is downstairs yet; he may still be dressing. She needs to talk to him about Harriet. The wedding will take place this summer, but Harriet shows no signs of urgency whenever Isabel attempts to discuss the arrangements with her, and really, plans need to be made if this is to be the sort of event to draw admiration from everyone in London. Gerald is far too indulgent of his daughter, of course. Perhaps Ralph’s visit this evening will encourage her to greater enthusiasm.