the ladder of Society, he had a way of setting her at ease.
“I will not be made uncomfortable by the arrangement Mr. Walker suggested,” Ana said.
“Capital.” Mr. Walker grinned.
They were soon inside and settled, and the hackney began its journey to the evening’s destination. Across the carriage, Elizabeth and Mr. Walker spoke quietly, their heads pressed together. Mr. Darby sat beside Ana, her violin held carefully on his lap.
“I hope you will forgive me if this proves a bit of nosiness,” he said, “but you seem anxious.”
“I am.” She clasped her gloved hands. “I have not been out in Society in years. And I’ve not played any instrument outside of Thurloe in at least that long. I have every expectation of things going terribly wrong tonight.”
“I, for one, have every hope the evening will go wonderfully right.” His voice was so soothing and calm, so very reassuring. “I cannot think of anyone more perfectly suited for a musicale. You won’t want for topics to discuss, as music is your area of expertise. And you will impress all in attendance with your talent.”
“You have never heard me play,” she answered, amused. “I might be terrible at it.”
His smile, dimly lit by the late-evening sun, blossomed. “Miss Black speaks very highly of your skills. I am not nearly brave enough to question her reliability.”
Ana hazarded a glance across the way. Elizabeth and her beau weren’t paying them the least heed. “She has been very kind to me.”
“I cannot imagine anyone being anything but kind to you.”
She didn’t need to imagine it. Her family had once occupied a minor place amongst the influential. They were newly accepted in Society, not for their standing but for their growing wealth. Her mother had possessed flawless manners and grace. Father had been the epitome of a gentleman despite having earned his fortune. All of that had disappeared in an instant. The Society peacocks had turned to vultures.
“Merciful heavens, Miss Newport. You’re growing paler by the moment.”
She tried to smile, but the memories were not pleasant ones. “My family suffered a reversal of fortunes a few years ago. Based on how we were treated at the time, I am not entirely confident of my reception tonight.”
“Society is a fickle beast.” He leaned closer, though not so close as to be inappropriate. “I will be nearby all evening. Should anyone treat you with any degree of unkindness, I will gladly intervene on your behalf.”
She could not afford to have anyone dogging her heels the entire evening. A lighthearted response would likely gain her a bit of freedom. “Perhaps we should engage Mr. Walker’s help should fisticuffs be necessary.”
Mr. Darby smiled at her once more. She did like his smile; it was genuine and kind. “He would not need to be asked twice.”
“How is it you came to be friends?” The two men were so drastically different.
“We met quite by accident and found we got on well. The rest simply happened.”
“Are you the reason he goes about in Society?” she asked. “He wasn’t born to it.”
Anyone hearing Mr. Walker speak could easily sort his low origins.
“I suppose I am,” Mr. Darby answered. “He was a good friend to me when I needed one. I hope I’ve proven the same to him.”
From across the carriage, Mr. Walker answered. “You’re certainly my loudest friend.”
Good-natured as always, Mr. Darby grinned. “I wasn’t being as stealthy as I thought, apparently.”
“You could learn a thing or two from my literary works.” Mr. Walker said the last two words with an impressive impersonation of an upper-class accent. “Quite the sneaky chaps, my characters.”
“And they’re children,” Ana said. “Surely Mr. Darby wouldn’t be bested by two little boys.”
Everyone turned to her, including Elizabeth. “You’ve read Fletcher’s penny dreadfuls?”
From any other employer, the question would have been filled with reprimand, but Ana happened to know her very exceptional friend and employer didn’t disapprove of the low literature. “I have read them. I enjoy them, in fact.”
“Do you read others?” Mr. Darby asked.
“A few. The daring adventures written by the author known as Stone. I haven’t yet read the newest offering from Lafayette Jones, but I’ve heard it is delightful.”
Elizabeth smiled. To the gentlemen, she explained, “We have several students who are fond of his and Mr. King’s works.”
“Everyone is fond of Mr. King’s stories,” Ana said. “I see them being read everywhere.”
“If Mr. King weren’t so blasted talented, I’d be fully jealous,” Mr. Walker said. “But the fella can spin a tale.”
The hackney came to a stop