got to go. You’re coming with the others to my aunt’s house tomorrow evening?”
Lucy had been invited to a celebration for Ethan’s cousin, home on leave from the navy. The Trasks were going, of course, and she and Tess had been invited as well. “Miss Charlotte said I should, but it’ll leave her all alone here.”
“Just for a few hours. She could go visit Miss Anne and Miss Lizzy.”
“That’s a good thought. I’ll tell her.” Ethan stood. “I worry about you walking in the streets at this time of night.”
“I know how to go, and I’ve got a stick,” he assured her, hefting a large cudgel he’d leaned against the garden wall. He swept her up for a last kiss, and Lucy forgot everything else in the dazzle of it. Then he was gone, and Lucy was slipping through the back door just ahead of Mr. Trask locking up. At the foot of the stairs to the upper floors, she found Callie sitting like a guard dog. She edged past her, followed by the stare of two yellow eyes, thanking her lucky stars that cats couldn’t talk.
Eighteen
Since Charlotte had been watching for Margaret Billings’ arrival, she was able to admire the way her new acquaintance pulled up in front of the house—as if she’d handled horses all her life. She had her own lady’s phaeton, and she held the reins of a beautiful chestnut pair. “You really do live quite out of the way, don’t you?” she said when Charlotte emerged.
So here was another fashionable person who saw any venture outside a certain area of London as a wilderness trek. “I would have been happy to take a cab to meet…”
“Nonsense. Hop in.”
Margaret’s groom offered a hand up, and Charlotte climbed into the seat beside her. He swung onto the perch at the back as Margaret eased the reins, and they clattered off. Margaret looked very dashing in a long-sleeved blue gown with military frogging and a hat with a feather tilted over one eye. Charlotte was grateful for the warmth of the June morning, so that she didn’t even need a shawl. To sit in this modish equipage wearing her fusty old cloak was unthinkable.
She liked this wiry, dark-haired woman and was glad to have a chance to talk to her alone. Margaret’s eyes often danced with laughter, and her wit was a byword among Edward’s group of friends. Now, there was this new skill. She turned and guided her horses as well as any man Charlotte had ridden with—not that there were many of those. When she said so, Margaret gave her a broad smile. “I watched my father teach my brothers and begged and begged for lessons until I wore him down.” She glanced at Charlotte, eyes sparkling. “He finally admitted, just last year, that I had more natural talent than either of the boys. Not that he would ever tell them that.”
Charlotte laughed.
“I knew William was the one for me when he promised me my own phaeton,” she added of her husband, laughing too.
“How did you meet?”
“Celia and I were schoolmates. She is Richard’s sister, you know. He and William and the others were all at Harrow together, and they came up to town about the same time. I tease William sometimes that I might have chosen Tony instead of him. It’s not true, of course, though he offered for me.”
“Doesn’t that make things awkward between you?” wondered Charlotte.
“Oh no. He didn’t really mean it. And I’m very glad it wasn’t serious, because he drinks far too much.”
Her candid ease, as well as her obvious enjoyment of life, was enviable. Charlotte risked a touchy question. “It seems girls are often… ah… removed from the group at evening parties.”
Margaret didn’t seem surprised or the least embarrassed. “Well, we aren’t a circle for fresh-hatched debs. What’s the fun of being married if you have to keep behaving like a chit just out of the schoolroom?” She turned the horses into Hyde Park. With the season in full swing, it was full of carriages, showy mounts, and beautifully dressed members of the ton walking the flower-bordered paths. Everybody was looking at everybody else, bowing and stopping to chat, flirting and gossiping; the grassy expanse was like a giant drawing room. She was part of a London Season, Charlotte thought. Not a central part, not a giddy, head-turning Season, but far more than she’d dreamed of just a few months ago. It seemed too good to be true.