Phoebe held her breath, suddenly reliving the dressing down she received at the Assembly Ball. Mrs Mary Smith may have escaped detection so far, but hawk-eyed Marchioness Carlisle was a different matter altogether.
‘Somany cheekbones!’ Sophie whispered, while Josephine snorted into a glass of negus that her aunt promptly confiscated without so much as a sideways glance.
‘A pleasure to see you again, Mrs … Higglestaff,’ Marchioness Carlisle pronounced.
Aunt Higglestone inhaled.
‘And yourlivelynieces, too… We weren’t going to come at all, but then the viscount persuaded Aurelia she would find the fireworks quite diverting! I trust you’re enjoying the evening’s entertainment?’
‘We are enjoying the gardens very much!’ Aunt Higglestone gushed generously. ‘And we’re delighted to see you and the delightful Lady Aurelia again so soon, too!’
Phoebe cast a covert look at Aurelia, standing demurely beside her mother. There was no trace of the girl who’d got drunk, played Questions and Commands, or kissed a soldier before blaming the whole thing on unsuspecting Mrs Mary Smith at all.
‘All the delightful Misses Fairfaxes,’ Lady Aurelia trilled with a pretty laugh. ‘How lovely it is to see you all again, and looking so well, too! Is not this picnic spot divine? I do so admire it and wonder if Mama and Aunt Higglestone might permit Phoebe and I a short promenade, so we may appreciate it fully?’
Phoebe felt her aunt beam her approval, before she even opened her mouth.
‘I should be thrilled,’ she replied. ‘Besides parlour games, promenading is one of my favourite things!’
* * *
‘How did you know?’ Phoebe asked as soon as they stepped onto the pretty wooded path circling the picnic area.
‘Know what?’ Aurelia teased through her fluttering broderie fan.
‘Know it was me!’ Phoebe returned. ‘And do spare me any airs and graces, I know you aren’t who you profess to be.’
‘Is anyone quite who they profess to be in polite society?’ Aurelia pouted, as Phoebe eyeballed her with abject dislike. ‘You don’t really do small talk, do you?’ she added.
‘Not with people who feign friendship, no.’
‘Feign?’ Aurelia frowned faintly.
‘You blamed everything on me! The side room, the card game – even that mop-head’s…’ Phoebe paused to shudder. ‘I’d be the gossip of the ton if your mother hadn’t hushed everything up!’
‘Well, your terrible powdered hair and cap certainly would be!’ Aurelia snorted.
‘You don’t understand!’ Phoebe scowled, her temper flaring. ‘Mary Smith was my only chance…’
‘Of anadventure?’ Aurelia quizzed. ‘You do know we all dream of those, don’t you?’ she added with a sigh. ‘And we can have them, too, so long as we’re prepared to accept a few small…’
Captain Damerel, is that you stealing up behind us?’ she diverted loudly. ‘I do believe I’d know your tread anywhere! And please don’t say you’re the search party!’ She paused to roll her eyes. ‘It’s been barely five minutes and I can stillseethe picnic tables!’
Phoebe stared as though Aurelia had taken leave of her senses, just as low voices reached along the path behind them. In disbelief, she glanced back to discover the captain and his infuriating brother were indeed turning the leafy corner behind them, and briefly, she smothered a desire to curse the universe and everyone in it.
‘Please be assured your secret assignations are always safe with us, Lady Aurelia!’ the captain called gamely, though Phoebe detected a fleeting strain. ‘I am also impressed by your powers of detection, you would be an asset to the military!’ He nodded at Phoebe. ‘Miss Fairfax,’ he added with a smile. ‘I do hope you’ll excuse our interruption, Alex was quite insistent on a walk. Did you enjoy your al fresco picnic? We partook last year, and particularly enjoyed the venison if I recall correctly – quite the finest picnic platter I’ve ever seen!’
He turned to his brother and chortled good-naturedly.
‘It was delicious, thank you, captain,’ Phoebe returned, avoiding the viscount's gaze, ‘though my sister was rather unimpressed by the lack of jam sandwiches!’
She was still stinging from their last conversation, and had no desire to pretend to exchange civilities now, especially in front of Aurelia.
‘Perchance she wishes for a quart of devil’s brew, with which to wash them down,’ the viscount muttered.
Phoebe stiffened, while Aurelia chuckled with delight.
‘Oh, my lord, what droll things you say!’ she smirked. ‘Pray, what is thisdevil’s brewyou mention? Perhaps I should try some.’
