“Well, goodness me, yes, you are quite right,” Matilda said, hoping she was not about to become one of the blushers. “Now let me see. I need to avoid Boris Wayne, as he is my nephew, and Bertrand Lamarr, since he is my former sister-in-law’s stepson. Does that make him in any way my relative? Hmm. Maybe not, but he does call me Aunt Matilda. He is very handsome, is he not?”
“He is,” Miss Keithley said with a scarcely disguised sigh.
“Bertrand and I both consider you our aunt,” Estelle told Matilda. “And do not tell him he is handsome or his head will swell.”
“But you will be paired with Lord Dirkson, Lady Matilda,” Miss Rigg told her in all seriousness, as though there were any alternative.
“I suppose you are right,” Matilda said, “since he is the only one close to me in age. Well, he is rather handsome too, is he not?”
“I think Mr. Sawyer is nice looking,” Estelle said. “He has kind eyes and a sweet smile.”
“Was Viscount Dirkson really a friend of Uncle Humphrey’s?” Jessica asked. “And did you really meet him all those years ago, Aunt Matilda, and dance with him at balls? I think he must have been very handsome as a young man. He must have looked a bit like Gil but without the scar. Did you fancy him?”
“Fancy?”Matilda said, raising her eyebrows. “Is that the sort of language your mama encourages you to use, Jessica?”
But Jessica only laughed with glee, as did the other three. “Were you in love with him?”
“Oh, head over ears,” Matilda told her. “So was every other girl on the market that year, and probably a few who were not. But there were many other very gorgeous young men to ogle too. I am convinced men were more handsome in those days.”
“Oh, Aunt Matilda,” Jessica said, still laughing, “is that the sort of language Grandmama encouraged you to use?Ogle?”
“Touché,” Matilda said, and patted her niece on the knee.
The attention of the young ladies turned beyond the windows at that point. They would have claimed to be admiring the scenery, no doubt, if asked, while what they were really admiring was the gentlemen, who often rode within sight of the windows. They did it deliberately, Matilda believed, in order to see and be seen. Oh, she had forgotten so much about the mating rituals of the very young. But how easily the memory of it all came back—the preening and flirting, the fan waving and pretended indifference, even disdain.
Men always showed to advantage on horseback, provided they had reasonably trim figures and good posture and well-muscled thighs and rode as though they and the horse were a single entity.
All of whichCharleshad and did. The thought was in Matilda’s mind before she could guard against it. He was fifty-six years old, for heaven’s sake. But he was still gorgeously handsome and attractive. Though probably only in her eyes. She doubted any of her companions were sparing him a glance when there were Bertrand and Boris to gaze at, and Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Keithley.
She wondered if he had noticed she was wearing pale blue. Shehopednot, or, if he had noticed, for after all he had eyes, she hoped he did not remember once telling her that she should always, always wear blue of the palest shade because it accomplished the seemingly impossible and made her even prettier and more desirable than she already was. He had actually used those words—more desirable.She had been shocked and thrilled to the core. But how foolish to think that he might remember. So many years had passed. She had not chosen her outfit deliberately for that reason. She had tried three different dresses first—the dark green, the tan, and the dark blue—before she had instructed her maid to pull this one from the back of her wardrobe. She had worn it only once before even though she had possessed it for two years. She had concluded after that one occasion that it was too youthful. But today she had tried it on and had felt immediately happy in it. She might be going as a chaperon, but she was notancient. Not quite, anyway. And she wanted to look her best.
She had deliberately not asked herself why.
It felt very strange not to be with her mother. Not to be watching her every moment to make sure she was comfortable and warm and not in need of a shawl or a fan or a cup of tea. Not to be a shadow whom no one really saw except her mother, who was more often than not irritated with her for constantly fussing. Why did she do it, then? Because she needed to be needed by someone? It felt wonderful to be free of all that. The whole of today—well, the rest of the morning and the afternoon anyway—stretched ahead of her with nothing further to do except watch eight young people who really would not need any watching at all and enjoy the beauties of Kew Gardens, which she had not seen for ages. And on a perfect day, with scarcely a cloud in the sky or a breath of wind.
A whole afternoon to spend in Charles’s company. And she was not going to feel self-conscious about it or fearful that he would find her dull, though he surely would. Forhehad askedher.She had not even thought of volunteering her services. She was going to enjoy herself, though she was feeling somewhat apprehensive about the end of the journey and the pairing up that would happen as soon as the men had dismounted and the ladies had stepped down from the carriage. She was perhaps the only one who knew exactly with whom she would be paired.
She was going to enjoy herself anyway. And if he thought he was going to throw her onto the defensive as he had done last evening, then he was going to have a rude awakening. She did not owe Charles Sawyer an explanation foranythingshe had done with her life. If anyone owed an explanation, it was he. Though that was not quite right. She, after all, was the one who had broken off both their romance and their acquaintance—because she would not have been able to carry on with the latter without the former. She had dismissed him and thus set him free to do and to be whatever he wished. He had done just that. But she would not eventhinkof the past for the rest of today.
“This is going to besuchfun,” Miss Keithley said. “It is the first time I have been out without Mama since we came to London.”
“But if you think your mama is a strict chaperon,” Matilda said, “wait until you discover what I am. Dragons may appear mild in contrast. You may well beg your mother to accompany you everywhere you go for the rest of the Season.”
A renewed burst of happy giggles greeted her dire warning and she smiled.
And then stopped smiling.
They had arrived.
Four
Bertrand Lamarr and Boris Wayne wanted to go straight to the Chinese pagoda and climb to the top.
“Two hundred and fifty-three stairs,” Boris said, “winding around the center.”
“And spectacular views from each story,” Bertrand added.
“Are there really golden dragons on the roofs?” Miss Rigg asked. But she wanted to go first to the orangery because it had been recommended by a cousin.
