Читать книгу Lady Lavinia's Match - Mary Nichols, Mary Nichols - Страница 7

Lord Edmund Wincote was not in the least put off by James’s antagonism; he arrived at Stanmore House that afternoon, only to discover that the Duchess was ‘at home’ and the house was filled with callers, all taking tea and all talking at once.

Lavinia, clad in a pale green silk gown, its high waist delineated with a band of cream velvet, heard him being announced above the noise and hurried over to make him welcome. ‘Lord Wincote, how nice to see you. Do let me present you to the Duchess.’

She led him forward to where the Duchess was talking to a group of ladies, together with Sir Percival Ponsonby, who always dressed flamboyantly in glaring unmatched colours, but was, for all that, held in great affection and esteem by the Duchess. Today he was in a very old-fashioned puce coat and green breeches. His grey hair was worn long and tied in a tail with a narrow black ribbon.

‘The King is playing least in sight while his wife is seen everywhere,’ Lady Willoughby was saying. She was enormously fat, though apparently unaware of it. Frances had once painted a portrait of her, which she loved because it depicted her flatteringly rounded and without her many chins. The Duke, however, had said the Duchess had belittled herself and her art to do it. ‘I do believe she enjoys putting the King to the blush.’

‘I really do not know how she has the effrontery to come back to England,’ Lady Graham put in. ‘I heard the King had offered her thousands of pounds to stay away…’

Percy laughed, at home among the female company. ‘Well, if he did it has made no difference; she is here.’

‘I heard the King will not allow her to live in any of the Royal palaces and the Lord Mayor has offered her his home,’ Mrs Butterworth added her contribution to the gossip.

‘More fool he. It will do him no good.’

‘Mama,’ Lavinia said, taking advantage of a lull in the conversation. ‘May I present Lord Edmund Wincote?’

‘Why, of course.’ The Duchess turned to him at once, smiling a welcome. ‘How do you do, Lord Wincote?’

He took her hand and bowed over it with precise courtesy. ‘I am honoured, your Grace.’

‘Are you come to town for the festivities?’

‘That was my intent, my lady. I have a friend whose house overlooks the route of the procession and he was kind enough to invite me to join his guests. In the meantime, I have taken lodgings in Mount Street and plan to enjoy whatever London has to offer in the way of entertainment. I was riding in the park yesterday when I chanced upon my old friend the Earl of Corringham and Lady Lavinia. He was so good as to present me to her ladyship. I came to pay my respects. I hope I do not intrude.’

Lavinia was relieved when he did not also mention their second meeting when she had been driving the phaeton. She did not want a scolding over her hoydenish behaviour.

‘Not at all, my lord,’ the Duchess said. ‘You are welcome. May I present Lady Willoughby, Lady Graham and her daughter, Miss Constance Graham, Mrs Butterworth and Sir Percival Ponsonby.’ She indicated each in turn. ‘Lord Edmund Wincote.’ He bowed in acknowledgement, repeating their names politely as he did so.

‘Wincote?’ Lady Willoughby queried. ‘I am not sure I know that name. Where are you from?’ Lord Willoughby was the first of his line to be elevated to the peerage and, though very wealthy, had no country estate, so the family lived in London the whole year round. Lady Willoughby was convinced that gave her a special knowledge of who was who and how often they visited the capital.

‘Cumberland, my lady,’ he answered, not put off by her forthright manner. ‘After my father died, my brother John and I lived with our grandfather. He was in poor health the last few years of his life and rarely travelled. And since the demise of my elder bother, he liked to keep me by him to look after the estate. Sadly, he died earlier this year.’

‘That accounts for it,’ the lady said, apparently satisfied. ‘Is your wife with you?’

It was obvious to all that if his wife was in London she would have accompanied him on afternoon calls, but it was Lady Willoughby’s way of ascertaining if he were married, a most important consideration.

‘I have no wife, my lady. But perhaps I shall soon remedy the deficiency.’

‘We must take you round and introduce you to people,’ Lavinia said to cover the uncomfortable silence that followed this. ‘Perhaps we can contrive invitations for you.’

‘Thank you, my lady.’

‘I wonder if the Queen will attend any functions,’ Lady Willoughby said. And then said to Lady Graham, ‘Do you expect her to make an appearance at your ball?’

‘Good gracious, no.’ Her ladyship affected a shudder of revulsion. ‘I cannot imagine anything worse than the upheaval that would cause. Constance would hate it, wouldn’t you, my love?’

‘Yes, Mama,’ the young lady said. She had mousy hair, and a pale face rather devoid of animation, although she had good bone structure and an enviable figure beneath the plain blue gown she wore.

‘And what about you, Duchess?’ Lady Graham went on as if her daughter had not spoken. ‘Are you expected to entertain Royalty this Season?’

‘I think not. It would compromise the Duke, who is trying very hard to be impartial, though we are obliged to attend the King’s official birthday reception at Carlton House tomorrow evening.’

During all this chatter Lavinia was acutely aware of the handsome figure standing beside her. Although he stood quite still and smiled occasionally as one or the other spoke, there was a kind of aura of energy about him. It was almost as if he were longing to make some point in the conversation, but was holding back for fear of giving offence. And after Lady Willoughby’s grilling, she admired him for it. ‘Lord Wincote, do you like to act?’ she asked.

‘Act, my lady?’ he queried, taken by surprise.

‘Yes, play acting. I am going to put on A Midsummer Night’s Dream to raise money for the Duchess’s favourite charity. I would welcome more people taking part.’

‘I have no experience of acting, my lady.’

‘Oh, that does not signify. I am sure you must have played charades…’

‘Why, yes, in my youth.’

‘There you are, then!’ she said triumphantly. ‘Do say you will join us.’

He bowed. ‘I shall be honoured, my lady.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, giving him one of her dazzling smiles. ‘Constance, will you take part?’

‘If you think I have anything to offer, I will.’ Constance spoke quietly as she always did and Lavinia wondered how she could be persuaded to project her voice so that an audience could hear her. Perhaps Mr Greatorex would school her.

‘Of course you have. And you, too, Sir Percy.’

‘Me?’ he queried. ‘Why, my dear, I can act nothing but the part of Sir Percival Ponsonby.’

She laughed. ‘That is all I ask, but Sir Percy might need a new name for an evening. How does Theseus, Duke of Athens, sound to you?’

‘But I am useless at getting words by rote.’

‘Oh, you do not have too much to say and Stepmama will rehearse you, won’t you, Mama?’

Before the Duchess could answer, the butler announced the arrival of the Earl of Corringham and James sauntered into the room, dressed in light wool fawn-coloured frock coat, cream brocade waistcoat and white lawn cravat in which a diamond pin gleamed. He came forward to bow over his stepmother’s hand, then turned to greet the ladies and Percy, all of whom he knew well.

He left Lavinia until last. ‘Lady Lavinia, your servant,’ he said, bowing formally and making her want to giggle. He could be so pompous at times.

‘James, I did not expect you,’ Frances said, looking quizzically from stepdaughter to stepson. ‘Twice in two days is so out of the ordinary that I begin to wonder what the attraction might be.’

‘Why, you, Mama. And the delightful company you keep.’

‘Gammon! Now ring for more tea, for this has gone stone cold.’

He did as she asked, pretending a nonchalance he did not feel. He wanted to know what Wincote was up to. He could feel the tension in the air and knew it had not been occasioned by his arrival; it had been swirling about before that. ‘Did I hear you talking about Lady Lavinia’s play?’

‘Yes,’ Lavinia said. ‘Lord Wincote has agreed to take a part in it.’

‘Indeed?’ He turned to Edmund and managed to convey a wealth of meaning in the tone of his voice and the way he lifted one eyebrow. ‘I hope you realise what you have undertaken, Wincote. Lady Lavinia can be a dreadful bully, you know.’

‘I find that difficult to believe, but if it be so, then I shall feel honoured to be bullied by so charming a director.’

‘And what part have you been given?’

‘None yet, but it is of no consequence. I will try my utmost in whatever part I am asked to play.’

‘I do not doubt you will,’ James murmured under his breath. Aloud he addressed Frances. ‘Has the Duke really given his blessing?’

‘Yes. Why should he not? It is only for the amusement of family and friends.’

‘Oh, is that all?’ He turned and grinned at Lavinia, sharing her secret; not for a moment would he betray her by mentioning Lancelot Greatorex. ‘So you will need a scene shifter?’

‘Yes, but do not think you can escape so lightly, James,’ she said. ‘You must take a role.’

‘Oh, no.’ He watched as the maid returned with freshly made tea and the Duchess filled a cup and handed it to him. ‘I would be no good.’

‘Why not? If Sir Percy and Duncan and Constance can do it—’

‘Hold your horses,’ Percy put in. ‘I never said I would. I am too old for such capers.’

‘But I need one or two older people. Someone must play the Duke of Athens and Egeus, Hermia’s father. It would look silly if they were young boys. That is why I need you and James.’

‘You need me because I am old?’ James said, affronted.

‘No, but you can act old, you do it all the time,’ she said, a statement which made the Duchess laugh aloud. ‘And we can paint your face with a few wrinkles.’

He turned to Edmund and spread his hands. ‘See what I mean about being a bully.’

‘Her ladyship would not need to bully if you were more willing,’ Edmund said.

‘True, true,’ he admitted with an exaggerated sigh. ‘But I do not subscribe to the view that the ladies should have their own way all the time.’

‘Which is, I am persuaded, why you are still single,’ Lavinia retorted. ‘Now, do not be a spoil sport, or I shall not speak to you again for…for at least a month.’

‘Good,’ he said promptly.

‘James!’ Frances chided him.

‘Oh, very well, Mama. I suppose I will have no peace until I agree.’

He had never had any intention of refusing her, especially knowing that Edmund Wincote was to be in the cast, but he could not resist teasing her. He did not know why he did it; it certainly did not promote his cause. If he were more serious, more careful of her sensibilities, and treated her more like a woman instead of a mischievous child, she might look at him differently. Almost every time they met he began with the intention of acting like a proper suitor, but something always intervened: either they roasted each other, or she said something to affront him, and they ended brangling.

‘Splendid!’ Lavinia said, smiling at him and quite overturning his bad mood. ‘You can begin learning Egeus’s lines, ready for our first rehearsal.’

‘And when is that to be?’

‘I do not know yet. I will let you know when I have all the characters decided on. Duncan has agreed to be Oberon. I asked him yesterday.’

‘Is that all you have so far? It is years since I read the play, but surely there are many more characters?’

‘Yes, there are, but leave them to me.’

‘And are you to direct us, my lady?’ James asked, still unable to refrain from teasing her. ‘As well as acting and painting the scenery and no doubt sewing all the costumes—’

‘James, you know very well I cannot sew. You must all be responsible for your own costumes.’

‘I do hope you are not going to begin these rehearsals before our ball,’ Constance said doubtfully. ‘I do not think I could concentrate on anything else before then.’

‘No, of course not. We have plenty of time. The performance is not to be until after the coronation.’

‘Oh, then it will not interfere with the Season.’

‘No, except that it would be advantageous if everyone knew their parts.’

‘Which part would you wish me to learn?’

‘Do you think you can manage Helena?’ It was a large role and might be beyond Constance, but so far Lavinia could think of no one else to fill it.

‘If it is a big part, I would as lief you found someone else and let me stay in the background.’

‘I know you are not one to put yourself forward, Miss Graham,’ James said, with a gentle smile. ‘But I am quite sure you are equal to the challenge.’

Constance blushed crimson, but could find nothing to say except to thank him without daring to look at him.

‘Corringham, I did not know you were coming to town or I would have sent you an invitation to the ball with all the others,’ Lady Graham said, tapping him on the arm with her fan. ‘You will be able to come, won’t you? It is to be on Wednesday, the fifth of July.’

He bowed. ‘I shall look forward to it. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall take my leave. I have some business to attend to.’ He was reluctant to go while Wincote remained but he had undertaken to look over a couple of horses at Tattersall’s and was expected. There were to be some races on Hampstead Heath in a couple of weeks’ time and he had been foolish enough to enter and make a wager on the outcome. The stakes were minimal; he had no intention of falling back into his old ways; it was more a question of pride, but he needed a prime mount to win.

It was only after he had left that Constance drew her mother to one side and whispered in her ear, which resulted in Lady Graham finding an opportunity of speaking to Frances when Edmund was engaged in being pleasant to Mrs Butterworth. ‘What do you know of Wincote’s background, my lady? Is he a proper kind of person to invite to a gathering like our ball? Constance seems to think we should include him…’

‘I really know nothing about him, except that he is known to James. Perhaps you should have taken the opportunity to ask James while he was here.’

‘Oh, I could not do that. It would have looked so obvious that I was checking on him. But he has delightful manners, has he not? And I can see no harm coming from it. And Mount Street is a respectable address, don’t you think?’ Without waiting for a reply, she went on. ‘I think I shall go and ask his exact direction so that I can send him an invitation. Poor Constance is so anxious…’

‘No more anxious than her mama,’ Lavinia whispered, as the lady hurried away in the direction of Lord Wincote. ‘I do feel sorry for Constance. Lady Graham sets her sights so high, is it any wonder she is constantly disappointed? James said it is because Lord Graham is in dun territory and must have a wealthy son-in-law.’

‘James does not know everything, Vinny, and it is unwise of you to repeat it.’

‘I only said it to you, I would not dream of repeating it to anyone else.’ She stopped speaking as Edmund, having stayed the customary time, approached to take his leave. The other ladies, having heard Lady Graham extending her invitation, had decided that he must be acceptable in Society and had besieged him with their own offerings, which he had accepted with great politeness and due gratitude.

‘Your Grace.’ He bowed. ‘I cannot remember when I spent so agreeable an afternoon. And to be received by your friends is indeed an honour. I shall perhaps see you at Lady Willoughby’s on Friday evening?’

‘I shall look forward to it,’ her ladyship said, offering him her hand, which he took and bowed over, before affording Lavinia the same courtesy. And then, smiling, he was gone, leaving a babble of conversation behind him.

‘Such a pleasant young gentleman.’

‘And so handsome.’

‘Perfect manners,’ Lady Graham added. ‘He may have come from the north country, but his address cannot be faulted.’

‘How did James come to know him?’ Percy asked Lavinia.

‘He did not say. I imagined they were at school together.’

‘But James is at least three years older than he is. I would hardly have expected them to be associates.’

‘Well, I do not know. If you are so curious, why didn’t you ask him?’

‘Not polite to quiz him in your mama’s drawing room, don’t you know?’

‘No, but it does not stop people from talking about him behind his back. Just listen to them!’

It seemed the whole room was buzzing with talk of the new arrival and Lavinia felt a certain sense of triumph that she had seen him first. The faint mystery about him served only to intrigue and excite her. That James did not like him she was well aware, but put it down to the fact that the man was young and handsome and everyone was falling over themselves to be agreeable to him. James’s nose had been quite put out of joint, though why he should care she could not fathom. He had always been laconically indifferent to what others thought of him.

‘Yes, and I think it is time the party broke up,’ he said. ‘Fanny, I shall set a good example and take my leave.’ He bowed to the Duchess and left. Very soon everyone else drifted away, leaving Lavinia and her stepmother to dress for dinner and await the arrival of the Duke.

Lord Wincote appeared at Lady Willoughby’s soirée on Friday, his dress and manners as impeccable as before, though the day had been hotter than ever. Having been greeted by his hostess and exchanged pleasantries with the Duchess, he made a beeline for Lavinia and stayed by her side most of the evening, engaging her in small talk and pretty compliments.

‘The last three days have certainly been worth the effort of making the journey to London,’ he told her. ‘Such pleasant acquaintances I have made since my arrival and none more agreeable than your good self. I am overwhelmed by your kindness to me.’

‘I have not been particularly kind,’ she said. Unable to meet his gaze, she was pretending to look about her at the company, though the tension in her body was enough to tell him she was not indifferent to him.

‘Allow me to disagree, my lady. For someone who is a stranger to the capital with nothing but my good name to commend me, I have been made most welcome. And it is all down to you.’

‘Fustian!’ She turned then and smiled at him. ‘Please do not be so formal. I shall begin to think you are as stiff as James.’

‘The Earl of Corringham,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘A very agreeable gentleman, though I collect he likes to tease.’

‘Yes, but I take no note of it. He is like a dear brother, though of course we are not related.’

‘Oh, are you not?’

She looked sharply at him. ‘No. The Duchess was his stepmother before she was mine. I am surprised you did not know that.’

‘I must have done, but I had forgot. Living so far from London, I am not up to date with events, you understand. My grandfather was something of a recluse.’

‘Then where and when did you meet James?’

‘My brother introduced us when I went up to Cambridge, seven years ago now. Henry, like the Earl, was three years older than me and they were almost at the end of their time there. They were friends, but so far above me as to be indifferent to my presence. I was surprised his lordship even remembered me. Henry died the following year, which made me my grandfather’s heir; after Henry’s funeral, I did not return to my studies but stayed at Grandfather’s side until I came into my inheritance earlier this year.’

‘I see. And you never came to London while you were at Cambridge?’

‘No, as I said, I was not there very long. My last visit to the capital must have been…goodness, I have forgotten the date, it was so long ago.’

‘You must find it much changed.’

‘Oh, yes, indeed. There are so many new buildings and more being built; whole streets have disappeared and new ones put in their place, all in excellent taste. I particularly like the use of trees to line the roads and the gas lighting which makes moving about at night so much safer.’

‘Yes, that is one thing I suppose we must thank his Majesty for.’

‘I have seen articles and caricatures in the newspapers, of course, but until I arrived here, I had not realised the contempt in which he is held…’

‘Only by some. And it is not so much contempt as ridicule. He is so very, very fat.’

‘I saw the Queen yesterday as I was leaving my lodgings in Mount Street. There we saw so many people crowding round and cheering her, I was unable to make a way through them until she had entered her carriage and been driven away.’

‘I believe it happens every time she stirs outside. If it were not for Stepmama being here and needing my company, I should return to our country estate in Derbyshire.’

‘I do hope you will not. I have been looking forward to furthering our acquaintance.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, but you must know that already.’ He paused, then went on, apparently plucking up his courage. ‘Having but lately arrived, I have not yet acquired a carriage, or I would have begged the favour of being allowed to drive you out.’

She laughed suddenly. ‘What, at seven in the morning?’

‘No, not at all, that would be highly improper and if I did not know you are incapable of the slightest unkindness, I might be tempted to believe you were making a May game of me…’

‘Oh, no, my lord, I beg your pardon—I am so used to roasting James. It was very unkind of me. Please forgive me.’

‘Of course. How could I refuse?’ He smiled. If James had been there he would have described it as a smile of triumph, but Lavinia took it at face value. ‘I had in mind a gentle hack along Rotten Row, at a suitably respectable hour,’ he went on. ‘Shall we say, half past ten, tomorrow morning?’

‘Are you always so careful of protocol, my lord?’

‘I am a stranger in your midst, my lady, I cannot flout convention until I am established and then I would do so with the greatest care not to upset those whose regard I value.’

She was reminded of his comment when meeting her driving James’s phaeton, that their secret was safe with him, and wondered if he was referring to that. ‘My lord, if you are implying that I should not have accompanied Lord Corringham in his phaeton—’

‘No, indeed not, my lady. You have explained he is regarded as your brother and none but the worst gabble grinder would infer anything else. I simply meant I wished to be correct.’

‘In that case, you will want to ask the Duchess for her permission to take me riding. It is no good speaking to Papa, he is never at home these days.’

‘Naturally, I will, as soon as you give me leave.’

‘You have it. I shall be delighted to ride with you.’

He hurried off to importune Frances, leaving Lavinia, smiling to herself at his seriousness.

‘Lady Lavinia, your obedient.’

Lavinia turned to find Benedict Willoughby at her elbow. She did not like the young man, who had tried forcing his attentions on her years before. She had been saved by Frances and James, but not before she had slapped his face and his cheek had been cut by her ring, an injury that kept him indoors for a week. He had only been seventeen at the time and trying his wings, but she was sure he had not forgotten it any more than she had, even though he had apologised and she had forgiven him for Duncan’s sake.

‘Mr Willoughby.’

‘I came to ask if I might take a part in your play. Duncan says it is going to be great fun and, if he is much occupied with rehearsals, I shall see nothing of him all Season.’

‘Yes, I can quite imagine you would expect to find some fun in it and possibly at my expense.’

‘Oh, my lady, you wrong me. I have wanted to do something of the sort for an age.’

‘Oh, Vinny, let the young shaver have a part.’ James had strolled over to join them and heard the young man’s request. ‘You cannot afford to be particular, you know.’

‘James, I did not expect to see you here.’

‘Must I always give notice of where I intend to be, so that I may always be expected?’

‘No, don’t be silly.’

He looked from her to Benedict, who was still waiting for his answer, then back to her. Whether it was the warmth of the room or the glass of wine she had consumed or simply that he had flustered her, he did not know, but she had a delightfully heightened colour and her green eyes sparkled with vivacity. Her gown of cream Michelin lace over a matching silk slip followed the lines of her figure so that he was hard put not to stare. ‘Well, are you going to keep him in suspense all night?’

‘Oh, very well,’ she said. ‘You can be Bottom, Mr Willoughby.’

‘Bottom!’ Benedict exclaimed. ‘Isn’t he the one who wears an ass’s head?’

‘Yes, but it is a good part and you will have Titania fall in love with you.’

‘Who will be Titania?’

‘I don’t know yet.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘I will find someone young and pretty for you. So, will you do it?’

‘Very well,’ he said, bowing and leaving them.

‘Vinny, you vixen,’ James said. ‘You enjoyed tormenting him, didn’t you?’

‘No, I am completely indifferent to him. But you were right, I cannot afford to turn anyone away. You are not going to let me down, are you?’

‘Vinny, you know I would never do that…’ He paused, watching Lord Wincote threading his way through the throng towards them. ‘And I sincerely hope others will not either.’

She noticed the direction of his gaze. ‘Surely you do not mean Lord Wincote?’

‘I meant no one in particular, but if by chance he should do anything to upset you, he will have me to contend with.’

‘Why should he upset me?’

He did not have time to answer before the gentleman in question arrived before them. Wincote was smiling broadly. ‘My lady, her Grace has been so kind as to say yes, providing you are properly chaperoned, of course.’

‘Yes, to what?’ James demanded.

Lavinia turned and looked at him in surprise. His question was so abrupt and really it was no business of his. ‘Since you ask,’ she said levelly. ‘I have arranged to ride in the park with Lord Wincote. Now, if you will excuse us, I am going to introduce his lordship to some more of the company. I see Lord Haverley and Mr Drew over there. Perhaps they can be persuaded to join our little production.’ And with that, she laid a hand upon Edmund’s sleeve and went off with him.

James cursed himself for not watching his tongue; now she was taking a perverse delight in being extra-agreeable to Wincote and that young man was lapping up all the attention. He stood and watched them for a few moments. Wincote was handsome and well dressed, as Lavinia had pointed out to him, and his manners were exquisite. If he had been paying his addresses to Constance Graham or any of the other young ladies, he would have said good luck to him. But Lavinia—no. And was that fair? Lavinia’s happiness was all that should matter.

James did not like where his thoughts were taking him and, pushing them from his mind, walked over to talk to his stepmother. ‘They make a handsome couple, do they not?’ he said, endeavouring to keep his voice neutral.

‘Yes, but I am a little uneasy. What do you know of him, James?’

‘Nothing at all. After his brother, Henry, introduced us at college, I never saw him again until yesterday. I really cannot vouch for him.’

‘Could he be a fortune-hunter? The Duke is so busy nowadays, I do not like to worry him, but it means I must be extra-vigilant on his behalf…’

‘Would you like me to make some enquiries?’

‘Could you? He has asked to take her riding tomorrow and I could not withhold my consent for no reason, could I?’

‘No, but I assume she will be chaperoned. And the town is so packed with people they will be in someone’s view the whole time. Besides, if he is looking to the main chance, he will not do anything to compromise that, will he?’

‘No, you are right, but all the same, I would be happier if you were to accompany them.’

‘Me? You mean me to play the chaperon, Mama?’

‘Please.’

‘Lavinia will not like it.’

‘I am sorry for that, but I will have her protected from her own folly.’

‘Very well,’ he agreed, but he was not happy about it.

At a quarter past ten the following morning, Lavinia, dressed in a lightweight blue riding habit, nipped into her tiny waist and frogged with silver braid, tripped lightly down the stairs. She sent a servant to the mews to ask Tom Bagshott, one of the grooms, to bring her mare, Misty, to the front of the house.

Riding out with a young man escorted by Tom was nothing unusual; over the last three years there had been many young men of the ton anxious to be seen with her and it amused her to set one against the other with a little flirtatious teasing, but today was different. Today there was a sense of anticipation which made her a little breathless, heightened the colour in her cheeks and caused her eyes to sparkle. She was aware of it and yet she did not want to admit that it was because Edmund Wincote had asked her to ride with him.

After all, she told herself, what was he but another young man, one of many trying their luck with the Duke of Loscoe’s daughter? Not for the first time, she longed to be a simple country girl, someone who did not have to think about dowries and marriage settlements and fortune-hunters. She wished she could be sure that any young man paying court to her did it out of love.

But if the young man in question was himself rich enough for such things not to count with him, then did it mean she could accept his assurances and allow herself to fall in love? But that was silly, one did not allow oneself to fall in love, it just happened, didn’t it? You could not control it. And wasn’t she rushing ahead too fast? She had only met Lord Wincote three days before and not by the wildest leap of imagination could she say she knew him.

She had no idea of his likes and dislikes over food, art and literature, whether he was kind or unkind, passionate or dispassionate. But those dark mesmeric eyes were deep enough to hide great passions, she was sure of it, and mysterious enough to hold her in thrall. But how did he truly feel about her in his heart? Standing before a long mirror in the hall, she smiled at herself as she set a plumed riding hat on her chestnut mane; time would tell and, in the meantime, she would enjoy herself.

She heard a knock at the door reverberating through the hall, and only just managed not to run and open it herself. Instead, she turned and went into the drawing room to wait as calmly as she could for Lord Wincote to be announced.

However, it was not Lord Wincote but the Earl of Corringham who entered the room, doffed his tall hat and swept her a bow. ‘My lady, your servant.’

She laughed. ‘Why the formality, Corringham?’

‘It seemed the thing to do, seeing I am here as a formality…’

‘Formality?’

‘Yes, the Duchess has asked me to be your chaperon this morning.’

‘She never has! You are making it up.’

‘I am not making it up and, believe me, it was not an errand I sought or wanted, but she asked me and I could not say no, could I?’ He had managed to find nothing against Wincote and ought not to judge him on instinct alone; his instinct could very well be at fault. On the other hand, the Duchess’s rarely was.

‘But why? Tom Bagshott always accompanies me when I ride out. Mama has always been happy about that before.’

‘I believe the Duke had an errand for Tom this morning.’

‘But why you? There are other servants.’

‘My lady, you have cut me to the quick. Am I such a monster that you do not want to be seen out with me? You were ready enough when you wanted to drive my phaeton.’

She leaned back and surveyed him from head to toe. He was dressed in a riding coat of Bath cloth and breeches in the softest tan buckskin tucked into his riding boots. His neckcloth was purest white and tied in a mathematical knot which filled the space between the top of his yellow waistcoat and his smooth, firm chin.

Any young lady would be proud to be seen with him and she was no exception. If it had been anyone but Lord Wincote she was going riding with she would have welcomed him; she might even have invited him to accompany her. But she sensed he and Lord Wincote did not like each other though, as far as she could tell, there was no cause for it. Instead of having a pleasant ride with amusing conversation, they would be trying to score points off one another and she would be pig in the middle.

‘I am sorry, James, I love to ride with you and you know it, but I cannot help thinking there is something smoky going on.’

‘Not from me there is not. Nor Mama. If you have a bad conscience—’

‘I certainly do not!’ They both heard the door knocker at that moment, though neither moved. ‘I am going out riding with Lord Wincote. You may come if you please, I cannot stop you, but should you say one word to spoil it, I shall never forgive you.’

‘I will remain as silent as the grave.’

‘And that will not do either. You will have Lord Wincote think you are sulking. Try to behave naturally.’

He executed an exaggerated leg, denoting his acquiescence without actually saying anything, just as the butler opened the door and announced Lord Wincote.

He strode in, smiling unctuously, and bowed. ‘Lady Lavinia.’

‘You are punctual, my lord.’ She held out her hand which he took.

‘No doubt that is down to impatience to be in your company again, my lady.’ He glanced round, noticing James for the first time, and his expression darkened momentarily. ‘Corringham, good morning.’

James inclined his head. ‘Wincote.’

Lavinia looked from one to the other and her heart sank. If this coldness was what she had to put up with for the next couple of hours, it was going to be hard work instead of fun. ‘Mama has asked James to accompany us,’ she told Edmund, deciding to make the best of it. ‘I shall be the envy of the ton, having two such agreeable escorts.’

James smiled at her. It was a friendly smile, which told her he approved of the way she was handling it and would not let her down. At least, that is what he meant to convey. As long as Wincote acted in a gentlemanly fashion and Lavinia behaved with decorum, he would remain in the background, difficult as it would be. At least he would be able to observe Lord Wincote’s behaviour.

‘Come along, then, let us be off,’ he said, leading the way to the front of the house where he had left his horse and Lavinia’s mare in the care of a groom. Lord Wincote’s own mount stood close by. Watched by a fuming Lord Wincote, James cupped hands for Lavinia to mount, which she did, settling herself in the saddle with consummate ease. The two men mounted and, riding one each side of her, they set off for Hyde Park.

The crowds were so thick they found it difficult to do make their way at all; the Ride, when they turned into it, was no better. It was thronged with riders, from men on spirited thoroughbreds, and ladies dressed in the latest frogged habits and plumed hats, right down to toddlers on tiny ponies. They certainly could not trot or canter, which is what Lavinia wanted to do. And the carriage way was even more packed with vehicles of every description: lumbering old-fashioned coaches, barouches, landaus, tilburys, phaetons and curricles. It seemed everyone in town was determined to see and be seen.

‘Where have they all come from?’ Lavinia asked. ‘I never saw so many people out and about.’

‘Oh, I expect it is the presence of the Queen in town,’ James said, forgetting his intention to remain in the background.

‘Well, whatever it is, it has quite spoiled my ride,’ Lavinia said. ‘Do you think it will be like this all summer long?’

‘Undoubtedly it will, at least until after the coronation,’ Edmund put in. ‘Perhaps we should arrange a day in the country to get away from it all.’

‘What a splendid idea! I shall put it to Stepmama as soon as we return.’

‘In the meantime, do you think Green Park will be less crowded?’

‘Let’s go and see,’ she said, turning her horse towards the nearest exit which happened to be Hyde Park Gate. It took no time at all to cross the road and enter Green Park which was, as Edmund had predicted, far less crowded. The park was more informal than Hyde Park, with areas of grass on which cows grazed, little copses of trees and winding paths.

‘Oh, this is better,’ Lavinia said, throwing back her head so that the plume on her hat tickled her cheek. She lifted a gloved hand to brush it away. ‘But I really think if one wants to ride properly, it will have to be very early in the morning. To have a good gallop one needs space, do you not agree, Lord Wincote?’

‘Now, Vinny,’ James murmured. He did not want Wincote reminded that he had met Lavinia out with him at what polite society would consider an unholy hour. As far as he was aware nothing had been noised abroad and he supposed Wincote had decided it would not do to sully the reputation of the young lady on whom he had fixed his attention. But he did not want Wincote to conclude that Lavinia was ready to meet anyone who took her fancy at that early hour.

Although she had had three years’ schooling in the ways of the haut monde, she was not always aware of the consequences of flouting convention. For James, it was part of her charm and he loved to indulge her, but that did not mean he would sit back and allow her to meet Wincote, or any other young buck, before breakfast.

‘Indeed, yes, my lady,’ Lord Wincote said. ‘But in London, space is at a premium, especially this summer. Now, up in Cumberland, on our estate near Windermere, it is mostly heathland—’

‘I thought it was for the most part water,’ James put in, mischievously. ‘I do not know about you, but I for one cannot ride on water.’

‘James, do not tease,’ Lavinia said, then, turning to Lord Wincote, ‘Take no note of him, my lord, he is in a very strange mood. Tell me about your estate. What is it called? How many acres does it cover?’

‘The house is called Ridgemere, but I am not at all sure of the exact acreage. It used to cover several miles in all directions, but my grandfather reduced the holding before he died. I think there might still be five hundred acres.’

‘Heathland?’ James queried.

‘Three-quarters of it is. It supports a prodigious number of sheep. And below ground there are mines.’

‘You own the mining rights?’ James queried.

‘Yes.’ Forestalling more questions, he turned from James to Lavinia. ‘One may gallop for miles and hardly meet a soul. I should like you to see it.’

‘Perhaps one day I shall,’ she said. ‘But until then, I must make what I can of the space available.’ And with that she dug her spur into Misty’s flank and galloped off across the grass. ‘Race you to that group of trees,’ she shouted behind her and then crouched over her mount and concentrated on riding.

It was a moment or two before the men gathered themselves to follow her and it was James, more used to her ways, who was first off the mark. She could hear the hooves of his stallion behind her and laughed at the sheer exhilaration of it. Not that she could win, she knew she could not. James had the swifter horse and she was handicapped by having to ride side saddle. He overtook her easily and Edmund was drawing abreast as they reached the trees and pulled up.

‘You would not have done that if we had been at Risley,’ she said, dismounting to rest her horse. ‘I would have been riding astride and given you a run for your money.’

‘Hoyden!’ James laughed as he slid from his horse, followed by Edmund. ‘I will put that to the test next time we are there.’

‘Done!’

‘I am sure I could not take advantage of a lady by beating her,’ Edmund said pompously.

‘Fustian!’ she said.

‘Tell you what, Wincote,’ James put in. ‘If you are so averse to riding against a lady, why not pit yourself against your own sex? Join us on Hampstead Heath in a fortnight’s time for some racing. Nothing formal, just a few friends competing against each other for ha’pennies.’

‘Very well. I shall be honoured.’

‘Oh, good,’ Lavinia said. ‘We shall organise that day in the country we talked of. The ladies can come and watch. Or,’ she added with a chuckle, ‘we could hold our own events.’

James sighed. It was just like Lavinia to take what was to have been a purely masculine occasion and turn it into a big event, but she was in such a good humour, her apparent annoyance over his presence dispelled, that he could not remonstrate with her. Lavinia at her sunniest was irresistible.