Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,33

suddenly holding it in her hands.

“I haven’t used this purse in ages.” Then her sister cocked her head. “Didn’t I lend it to you last year?”

“Yes,” Julia whispered, her heart pounding as Sarah began to open the drawstring.

Chapter Ten

“Today at the new Lord’s Cricket Ground, Marylebone Cricket Club played St. John’s Wood Club. Quality folk were rubbing elbows with the commoners. Lord M__ escorted two well-known females of his acquaintance, and Lady Ch__ was there with friends of both sexes. Marylebone handed St. John’s a defeat!”

-The Times

“How strange.” Sarah murmured, examining the purse. “It’s empty, except for this.”

Julia held her breath, but the only thing her sister drew out of the reticule was the handkerchief Julia had tucked inside before attending the Chandrons’ ball.

“No, not so strange,” Julia said, as soon as she could breathe again. “I left the bag by mistake in the ladies’ retiring room at the ball last night.”

“You should be more careful,” Sarah said, handing it to her. “What if you’d had something valuable in there?”

Julia tried to laugh, but it sounded to her ears like wheezing.

“What would I possibly take to a ball that was valuable?” She glanced at the ruby ring on her right hand and shook it before her sister’s nose. “You know this is the only thing I own of any value, and I never take it off.”

They both had a single piece of jewelry from their long-deceased mother. Even then, Sarah wore her ruby pendant on a silver chain around her neck.

“Nothing, I suppose. Maybe you might take an ivory comb.”

“If someone needed to take a comb from my reticule,” Julia stated, “he or she would be welcome to it.”

“He?” Sarah said, and they giggled

Luckily, dinner was announced, and Sarah dropped the matter, saying nothing more about it that night and clearly suspecting nothing. It appeared as though a kind guest from the ball had returned the bag to its rightful owner.

However, Julia lay awake with a sense of unease. Who had found the bag, the lascivious viscount after he’d picked himself up off the floor or his wife when she’d retired for the evening?

Moreover, the finder had assumed the small purse belonged to the Countess of Worthington. At first, Julia couldn’t imagine why. And then she remembered. While she had no visiting cards of her own, a couple of her sister’s cards had been in the bag, and Julia had never had a reason to remove them.

“Dear God!” she whispered. What if someone accused Sarah?

JASPER HAD NO WAY OF knowing whether he would be escorting only Julia or both sisters. It was all the same to him. He enjoyed watching cricket, and the weather, as promised, was fair without call for rain. Even if he did nothing more than sit amiably with two lovely ladies and drink a cup of lemonade, it would be a day well spent.

As it turned out, it was both sisters.

“I’ve decided to accept your kind invitation to join you,” the countess told him as both females adjusted their hats and tucked parasols under their arms to ward off the sun. “After all, cricket is becoming the national pastime.”

Tapping his hat, he gestured for the door. The capable butler whipped it open, and they were on their way.

“Are either of you familiar with cricket teams?” he asked as his carriage got rolling toward St. John’s Wood. Their blank stares gave him his answer. “Today’s match is between Marylebone Cricket Club and St. John’s Wood Club.”

“Does the latter always play there?” Julia asked.

“No, the former does,” he said.

Both ladies frowned. “Why doesn’t the Marylebone Cricket Club play in Marylebone?” Miss Sudbury asked.

“They used to. They’ve been around since ... oh, the late 1780s, I believe,” he told them, trying to tamp down his enthusiasm, but fearing he would start to bore them with his facts and figures. “They had a place previously, not far away in Dorset Fields in Marylebone, hence the name. But now they’re at St John’s.”

The countess raised an eyebrow and looked at her sister. “And where does St. John’s Wood Cricket Club call home? Paris?”

He offered a wry smile, but before he could answer, Miss Sudbury asked, “Is the arena called Lord’s because it is the sport of noblemen.”

At this, he laughed loudly. “Not at all. Anyone can enjoy cricket. The grounds are named for Thomas Lord, the owner. This is his third site, actually. After Dorset Fields, he moved his cricket grounds just a few streets over to the north end of

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