“What are you going to do? You’ve got that look in your eye,” Carlos noted. “Which usually heralds chaos.”
“Not sure yet. I’ll sleep on it. But one thing is certain. I’m not letting half a dance be the cause of that girl’s ruin. Any man aiming to destroy her reputation will regret it. If I have to fight all of them off with a sword, I’ll do it.”
“Lord Norbury, knight errant!” Carlos said with a laugh. “Who would believe it?”
“No one,” he agreed. “Which is my advantage.”
Chapter 6
The next day, Rose was in the morning room, practicing a new piece on the piano. Rose practiced diligently, since music was something she not only excelled at, but loved. Knowing that she would be occupied for quite a while, Poppy and her mother always used the mornings to run errands or go out visiting, allowing Rose to practice what she’d learned in her lesson the previous day.
She was so intent on learning the piece that she jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Good afternoon, Miss Blake,” a cheerful voice sounded in her ears.
“Why, Mr. Evans!” she said, recognizing his voice. She twisted around on the bench, wondering if the maid had entered the room as well. She couldn’t hear any other person. “How did you get in here?”
“The maid let me in. I told her not to announce me, as you should not be distracted from your practice. You really are accomplished,” he added.
“Thank you. I’m still learning this piece, and I don’t usually play for strangers until they’re perfected.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m no stranger. Have you been outside yet? It’s a perfect day for a ride.”
“I’m sorry to say I cannot join you, Mr. Evans. Both Poppy and my mother are away at the moment.”
“Which is just as well!” Evans said with a laugh. “You don’t need a chaperone for a ride around the park.”
“Don’t I?” Rose asked. Most people, even the stuffiest matrons, would admit that a single woman could ride alone with a man as long as they stayed in public view. She also knew that she would be held to stricter standards due to her handicap. But she did want to go out. It was so difficult to remain confined, knowing that others were able to do whatever they liked.
“You certainly don’t. Besides, it will be fun.” Evans walked over to the mantel and yanked the bell pull, the sound jangling in the servants’ quarters, barely audible to Rose’s ears.
Alice appeared moments later. “Yes, sir?” she asked, realizing that it was the guest who had summoned her, as Rose was still seated at the piano.
“Miss Blake is accompanying me on a brief ride. Will you fetch her a bonnet?” Perhaps it was his mere expectation of being obeyed, but Alice murmured assent and walked out.
“Interesting,” Rosalind commented, impressed by the maid’s instant capitulation. Then she heard Mr. Evans step toward her, his mass reducing the light from the windows as he leaned over her. His hand enveloped her own.
“Come,” he said. She rose and allowed him to escort her out of the room, barely able to grab her walking stick, which had been leaning in its place against the side of the piano.
In the hall, Alice was waiting.
“Your Pamela hat, miss,” she said, touching Rose’s hand and exchanging the stick for the hat.
Rosalind took the large hat that she’d got for that spring, having been informed that it was the height of fashion (especially after Poppy acquired a few yards of silk ribbon and added it to the hat). She tied the buttery-soft ribbon under her chin and told the maid to inform her mother and Poppy where she was, if they should return before she did. Alice handed over the walking stick again, since Rose did not like to leave home without it, even though it was unlikely to be needed for a ride in a carriage.
And then they were outside, with the sun-warmed air all around.
Mr. Evans helped her into the open coach.
“All ready?” he asked.
“I think so,” she said, but was still surprised by the sudden lurch forward as the horses began to walk. Evans steadied her by gripping her elbow with one hand while he drove. “I’m used to a closed coach,” she admitted.
“You’ll soon get used to this,” he assured her. “Shall I head to the river, or the promenade?”
“Oh, the promenade.” Rosalind settled back to enjoy the ride. The sounds of the city of London surrounded her: the calls of people, the clip-clop of horses, the bark of street vendors and children. The smell of blossoming trees filled the air, and Rose inhaled happily when they passed a row of apple trees.
They rode down the promenade, Mr. Evans calling out loud and cheerful greetings to several people that he passed. They chatted of inconsequential things, and Rose found herself enjoying the ride (perhaps more than she enjoyed her companion, who was not exactly a sparkling conversationalist).
