That surprised Fifi. "He's being a gentleman. Having saved me from our ruined coach, he has wrapped my foot."
"Hmm. Has he not wrapped you around his finger?"
Fifi pulled back. "Certainly not."
"Be careful, Fee."
She stared at her lovely friend, usually so well-meaning. "I am."
"You don't want gossip spread about you. Him kissing your hand. In public too."
"He showed me compassion."
"All day long?"
"There is no law against it, Ivy!"
Her friend tsked. "Him carrying you about like a lovesick swain? Fee, of such stories is legend made."
Fifi had never known Ivy to be a meddler, nor to be jealous of any of their other friends. But she was insulted at Ivy's interference. "Why would you say such things to me?"
Ivy's emerald eyes captured hers in a dark vise. "I remember how you hated any whiff of scandal as a child. You'd never speak of the cause and I'm not about to ask you for it now. But if you still guard your reputation, Fee, don't let him make such a spectacle of his interest in you."
* * *
Dinnernext to him was a nightmare.
Stirred to her old fears about others who might think badly of her, Fifi turned a cool face to his charm.
Seated in the free manner that the Prince Regent preferred, her aunt's arrangement put Charlton on her left and another gentleman whom she'd met here before to her right. Lord Collingswood was a polite fellow, a widower, with a shock of red gold hair and large eyes that glistened like hard coal. He was well-spoken and attentive, funny too, so Fifi had no pains paying attention to him.
But by the time the desserts were presented at table, she itched to be alone. Alone she could summon her forces for the days ahead.
If only she could leave!
Word went round that her aunt and uncle invited many to the main salon for conversation and those who wished to play cards could adjourn to the yellow salon.
How she yearned to play! Whenever she felt put-upon or ignored, sad or misunderstood, she had to play. Command of the cards would put her to rights. Thank heavens her old nurse Pinters had taught her well. Outfoxing others meant she could not only win, but dominate her opponents.
"Will you play?" Collingswood asked her as the footman bent forward with a tray piled high with fragrant apple tarts.
Her mouth watered. Not only for the tarts...but for the elixir of winning.
She indicated one tart, please. "I shouldn't. I am quite tired."
From the corner of her eye, she could tell Charlton listened.
"I understand you play well," Collingswood pursued the subject.
Where had he heard that? Someone here, she guessed. Ivy? Grace? Esme? Esme knew best of all how well Fifi won over most challengers at cards.
"Play well?" she asked with more gaiety than she felt. Another footman appeared between them and presented a tray filled with littlechoux, her favorite. Fifi licked her lips. "I do."
"And you win often?" This, from Charlton.
"Occasionally." He knew how well she played! Years ago, she'd taken two hundred pounds off him.
"Why not play us, then?" Collingswood leaned forward to invite Charlton. "We'll ask a forth, shall we?"
