“When?” Eddy asked, and Hélène smiled in relief.
“Soon. But it can’t be at my house—”
“Of course not,” he cut in. “Don’t worry, my valet will arrange everything. Can you find a way to leave the house undetected if I send a carriage?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll see you soon.” Eddy reached for her hand.
Hélène laced her fingers in his, tugged him closer, and planted one more kiss on the side of his jaw. “Sooncan’t come soon enough,” she told him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
May
AGNES’S LETTER HAD ARRIVED EARLIERthis week, on stationery embossed with a family crest that must have been sketched by some artist for hire.Shall I pick you up on Thursday at noon and we can get started? Let me know if that day is agreeable to you.
May had thrown out the note without replying. Of course she couldn’t actually go out with an American, the daughter of a steel baron. What had she been thinking, agreeing to Agnes’s preposterous bargain?
But when Thursday morning arrived, May caught herself glancing at the clock every few minutes. Agnes wouldn’t actually come, would she? Surely she would realize that May’s silence had been a rebuke.
At the sound of carriage wheels crunching over gravel, May’s heart skipped a beat. Her father was home; he couldnotsee this. In a flurry of motion she pulled on her gloves, tied a cloak around her neck, and ran unceremoniously down the front drive. She had every intention of telling the coach to pull away.
Agnes flung open the door, taking in the scene at once.
“Oh, you’re sneaking out? You should have warned me!” She reached for May’s hand.
To her own surprise, May allowed herself to be pulled into the warm interior of the carriage. Agnes rapped twice on the roof and they started off at a brisk trot.
“I’m glad we are doing this.” Agnes smiled, settling back onto the velvet-upholstered seat. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure you’d want to go through with our partnership.”
“Neither was I,” May said frankly.
She let out a long breath, feeling her pulse calm, and kicked her feet onto the foot warmer in the middle of the carriage: a wooden box filled with coal. Simplyowninga foot warmer was luxurious, and the Endicotts’ was engraved with that same family crest. May wondered if they’d brought it over from Chicago with the rest of their luggage, or just commissioned a new one in London.
“So, where should we start?” Agnes asked.
May was surprised to find that she had an answer to this question. Despite her hesitations, the gears of her mind must have been turning all week, considering the best way to bring an American into the heart of society.
“We’ll start with church. You’ll come to services with me and my mother next weekend. I don’t care if you’re Anglican or not,” she added, before Agnes could protest. “The whole point is that you’re there, sitting in one of the back pews, holding a prayer book. You can borrow mine.”
Agnes looked a bit miffed at the reference to the back pews. “I can buy my own prayer book.”
“Absolutely not. You want an old one that looks like it was handed down through your family. The more battered the cover, the better.” May’s had belonged to her great-aunt, and smelled like aged paper and faded sachets. If only it actually worked to answer her prayers.
“How typically British,” Agnes said drily. “You only think things are valuable if they’re old, or if they were made by old men.”
May pursed her lips against a smile. “If you do well at church, I might bring you to a musical evening or an afternoon at home. Lady Wolverton is having one soon.”
“At homes are only for ladies, though, aren’t they?”
“Agnes, you can’t be seen directly pursuing men! You’ll never get anywhere until the women in society accept you. Or at the very least, until they tolerate you.”
It took a moment for May to realize that Agnes was smiling. “When I asked where you wanted to start, I meant what boutique you wanted to visit first. But I’m glad to hear that you’ve formulated our social plan of attack.” Her grin broadened as she added, “I knew I was right to choose you as a friend.”
A friend.The word shot like a beam of sunlight through May’s loneliness.
Their carriage slowed, and she realized belatedly that they had pulled up outside Linton & Curtis. “We aren’t going to your house?” she asked, as the driver came down to open the door.
