‘Phoebe!’ Aunt Higglestone called in a strangled, yet polite tone.
She bit her lip, conscious she was drawing attention to herself, even if they couldn’t hear what she was saying.
‘I’m sure there are many who would agree,’ he acquiesced coldly, ‘and yet such behaviour in young ladies of quality would be reprehensible to many gentlemen with a name and reputation to protect.’
There was a poignant pause, during which all Phoebe could hear was Sophie’s tinkling laughter, and she wrestled with an overwhelming urge to land the viscount yet another leveller.
Thankfully, Matilda came to the rescue.
‘The Merlin Swing!’ she shrieked, her ribbons catching the breeze as she bolted ahead. ‘Last one there is agundigut!’
‘Matilda Fairfax!’ their aunt wailed after her, shaking her parasol in dismay.
ChapterTwelve
Eight weeks and suspecting Aurelia until the wedding
‘Well, what does it say?’ Sophie whispered as Phoebe unfurled the letter beneath the crisp white tablecloth.
They’d finally arrived at their supper spot, after a long, meandering walk that had almost settled Phoebe’s ruffled nerves. She cast a look around. The sun had melted into a late pumpkin dusk, and the gardeners had begun lighting miniature lanterns in the copse of trees surrounding them. It really was the most picturesque spot.
‘Do you think there are any severed ghosts’ heads around?’ Matilda asked loudly, much to the disapproval of several nearby mamas. ‘Josephine said the Romans buried the heads of their favourite horses here.’
‘Not beneath the picnic tables, dearest,’ Aunt Higglestone placated hastily.
‘Here, read it yourself,’ Phoebe muttered, passing her sister the letter.
Dear Mrs Mary Smith,
Please excuse my behaviour at the Assembly Ball, I had few options remaining.
Look for me at the Sydney Gardens picnic, when I hope we will be able to promenade together, and resume our friendship.
Yours affectionately,
Lady Aurelia Carlisle
‘Well, she doesn’t exactly waste words,’ Sophie concluded, turning it over.
‘But she addressed it to Mrs Mary Smith, at Aunt and Uncle’s address!’ Phoebe frowned.
‘And she tried to make me kiss a mop-head!’
‘True, but she also says she wishes to resume your friendship, and signs itaffectionately,’ Sophie countered. ‘And she’s friends with the delightful captain, too … isn’t she?’
‘Mmm, she’s making sure I know she knows,’ Phoebe mused. ‘And don’t forget thedelightfulcaptain may have something to do with Aurelia’ssituation, too!’
‘Yes,’ Sophie returned, looking crestfallen for a moment. ‘What did you and the viscount speak of anyway?’ she added after a pause. ‘You appeared quite … animated.’
Phoebe shrugged. ‘The viscount continues to prove himself to be no more enlightened than any gentleman of our acquaintance, and so judgemental of my own view as to be a veritable dinosaur. Truly, I pity any lady he is to call his wife!’
Sophie regarded her sister thoughtfully, just as Matilda’s voice rose above the general chatter.
‘But how can you call it apicnicwhen everyone sits at a table and eats with knives and forks?’ she protested.
Thankfully, the arrival of supper beneath the stars prevented too much discourse on this point, and by the time they’d all polished off pigeon pie, cold lamb, salmagundi, various breads, and numerous puddings, the evening was considerably advanced. Alongside the steady stream of dishes, there was an even steadier stream of young ladies and their mothers, asking why Phoebe and Sophie hadn’t yet been seen at the Assembly Rooms.
‘I vow if one more doting mama asks me if she can expect to see the two of you at Bath’smost illustriousballs, concerts, and theatrical events, I shall give them your brother’s address myself!’ Aunt Higglestone warned with a hiccup. ‘And it wasn’t for the want of asking, I’ll have you both know,’ she added, waggling a finger. ‘At your ages I’d been out for a season already, and received offers from a number of— Marchioness Carlisle!’ she exclaimed, as a grand family made to sweep past their table.
