“All right.” Matilda’s chest tightened. She gave her great-aunt a heartfelt hug. “Get some rest. I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll be having too much fun to miss me or anyone.” Aunt Stapleton patted Matilda on the back, then turned and hobbled off.
Matilda watched her go with a mixture of concern and elation. Aunt Stapleton’s megrims could last for hours, or even days—but they always went away in the end. And Matilda was guardian-free for at least another hour. She was sorry the earl could not enjoy the festival, but Matilda had been having a splendid time—at least, until Bernice Charlton turned up and made such hateful comments. Now that Gilbourne had scared the young lady off, perhaps Matilda could finally set about making some friends.
She wasn’t afraid of a challenge. She was New Matilda, the adventure-seeker. With luck, she would not only collect a bevy of new friends, but also pick up a few suitors in the process. Thereby proving to Gilbourne that she could. That it was essential for Matilda to attend social events. That she wouldn’t embarrass him in the least.
She turned away from the dais with the tart-and-pie competitors and nearly smashed face-first into a gentleman’s cravat. He was spindly and gray-haired and easily old enough to be her father, yet he looked at her as if being presented with a previously undiscovered treat.
“Where is your chaperone?” He licked his lips. “I simply must demand an introduction.”
“Er,” said Matilda, then gestured behind him. “My lady’s maid is that way.”
The lines on his forehead wrinkled further. “A lady’s maid cannot perform introductions. Where’s your mother?”
“Dead,” Matilda answered. Perhaps being alone at the festival wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Now see here,” said the older man. “There’s no reason to get impertinent—”
A pretty young woman not much older than Matilda stepped between them. “Ah, Viscount Oldfield, there you are. I see you’ve met my good friend…” She raised an eyebrow at Matilda.
“Matilda Dodd,” she whispered.
“Miss Matilda Dodd,” continued the young lady smoothly, as if this introduction were the most normal thing in the world. “Miss Dodd was just telling me that she is family to…”
“Lady Stapleton,” Matilda supplied.
“And that Miss Dodd herself is a resident of…”
“Rutland.”
“Where she has lived since…”
“Birth. Twenty years ago. Almost twenty-one.”
“Exactly so,” said the young lady, as if all of this was old news. “Lord Oldfield’s primary residence is in London, though he has a country home in Northumberland, where I am from.” She dropped her voice so only Matilda could hear. “I, being Lady Tabitha Kerr. Pleased to meet you, old friend Matilda.”
“The pleasure is mine, old friend Lady Tabitha,” Matilda whispered back.
“You needn’t horn in on my conversations,” Viscount Oldfield said peevishly. “I won’t tolerate such behavior now, nor after we’re married.”
Married?
Matilda gaped at Lady Tabitha, who made a face almost as pained as Aunt Stapleton with a megrim.
Lady Tabitha pointed over Viscount Oldfield’s shoulder. “Is that Reuben Medford?”
“What?” The viscount turned around. “My nephew said he wouldn’t be attending the festival this year. Where do you see him?”
“Go,” Lady Tabitha mouthed, making shooing motions at Matilda. “Save yourself.”
“Thank you,” Matilda mouthed back, edging away from the viscount as quickly as she could whilst his back was still turned.
To think, a young woman like Lady Tabitha betrothed to a man of such advanced age! Who had shamelessly attempted to flirt with Matilda, despite being promised to another!
She sneaked a trio of diced peels from her reticule and popped them into her mouth.
All was not doom and gloom. She did make a friend today. Lady Tabitha seemed very sweet, and Matilda should not mind—
