His last letter said that he’d acquired some Egyptian pieces. They are mostly small items, but there’s a reproduction of a wall painting that he seems pleased with and hopes to mount in his drawing room. I’ve sent him a letter to alert him to your being in Town and I’m sure he’ll invite you to look at his acquisitions. If you wish to write to him yourself, his address is 29, Burlington Street.
Ariana refolded the letter, cheered by the prospect.
Ethel read her mind. “You’re supposed to stay out of sight until you’re fashionable.”
“The devil. I might as well be locked in the Tower. But I might be able to go on this one expedition.”
“How?”
“This Peake is a merchant. I’m only hiding from fashionable people. I won’t meet any of them at his house.”
“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”
“Fortune favors the brave,” Ariana shot back, and sat to write the letter.
She received a reply only a few hours later, suggesting that she come on the afternoon of the next day.
“There,” she told Ethel. “All settled. And there’s the added benefit of removing me from this house for a while.” Where a black-mopped, red-eyed Kynaston lurked.
“He’ll likely dine here,” Ethel pointed out.
“Are you determined to ruin my mood? But in that case, I will dress with dignity.”
All Ariana’s finer gowns were in the hands of the seamstresses, but it suited her to go to dinner in an almostdrab, plain black gown. She could have enlivened it with a rich shawl, but she wrapped herself in knitted brown and an air of perfect indifference.
He wasn’t there.
For which she was grateful, she assured herself, aware of Lady Cawle’s silent disapproval of her appearance. That was all Kynaston’s fault, and he was doubtless out in some low tavern getting soused again. That was no concern of hers.
After the meal, in the small drawing room, Lady Cawle again asked Ariana to play, adding, “As you are in practice, I suggest you play as often as possible. It shows you well, as before.”
“It does,” Ariana’s mother agreed warmly. “I remember how much your playing was admired, dear.”
Ariana sat to play, unsettled by a view of her time in London that she’d forgotten. Now she was prompted, she remembered that she’d played on a few occasions and not disgraced herself. Admired, though? That was coming it too strong.
Perhaps there would be occasions when she could perform, however, and it was something she could do sitting down.
•••
Ariana was comfortable in the certainty that she’d meet none of the fashionable set at Mr. Peake’s house, but she decided not to request permission.
“Discretion is the better part of valor,” Ethel said.
“I don’t need permission to go anywhere,” Ariana stated, and she put on her dark gray pelisse and a black velvet beret and went downstairs, Ethel a step behind.
However, Lady Cawle must have had some means of knowing everything, for Ariana was halted in the upper corridor by a request that she visit her hostess. She toldEthel to continue down into the hall and was taken to Lady Cawle’s white-and-gold boudoir.
“You are going out?” Lady Cawle asked.
“As you see, ma’am.”
“Where?”
“Is that not for my mother to ask?”
“Have you asked her consent, gel?”
“No,” Ariana said, irritated to be made to feel like a naughty schoolgirl. “I’m on my way to visit the elderly relative of a friend. He has Egyptian artifacts, but he’s a merchant. I will not be revealing my shabbiness to the ton.”
