‘Agreed,’ she whispered back. ‘I will do what I can to divert the conversation if he says anything. But surely she has not told him?’
I did not have time to reply as Mr Hart walked into the room, travel worn and clutching his hat. His resemblance to his brother, Dorian, was not marked. But it was enough togive me a jolt of unease. And he was obviously young and handsome enough to cause a flutter.
He became flustered when he saw all of us staring at him. Indeed, some were staring much more expectantly than others. After giving a low bow to the room, he looked around for a familiar face.
When he saw Jane, Mr Hart looked visibly relieved. ‘Miss Austen, please forgive my intrusion ...’
Elizabeth stepped forward to claim her rightful place as the host. ‘Mr Hart, I do not believe we have met. This is a surprise indeed, but a welcome one. Please do take a seat. I will ring for some more tea and refreshments.’
Oh no, what was she doing? The ladies had to leave—now!
But Elizabeth seemed to have forgotten what was at stake because she now had a real live gentleman to display to her friends.
All talk of the ladies leaving dissipated, and some murmured that they could quite do with another cup and perhaps fit in another petit four. Henrietta ditched her pelisse eagerly and made April sit next to her, in prime position across from Mr Hart.
Nervously, I greeted him, ‘Good day, Mr Hart. How nice to see you again.’
‘You as well, Mrs Fitzroy.’ Mr Hart nodded to me. His gaze droppedto my stomach, and his eyes widened. ‘And may I offer my congratulations.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Mr Hart is a new acquaintance whom Jane and Felicity had the good fortune of meeting in Bath last year,’ explained Elizabeth to the listeners.
‘Oh, were you there for the Season, Mr Hart?’ enquired Henrietta.
‘Yes, he was,’ said Jane firmly before Mr Hart could say anything to dispute this. Unfortunately, saying he was there for the Season suggested that he was indeed single and on the lookout for a wife.
But Mr Hart seemed happy enough to let the discrepancy slide. ‘Ah, yes, er ...?’
‘I am Lady Claridge, and this is my daughter, Miss April Claridge.’
‘Pleased to meet you both.’ He nodded politely.
‘Do tell us, did you happen to meet any particular young lady who took your fancy in Bath?’ asked Henrietta.
Mr Hart’s features softened, and a dreamy look crossed his face.
‘Why, yes, I did actually. Miss Lucinda Fitzroy. In fact, that is why I am here. I believe she is staying—’
‘Unfortunately, she has left for York already, Mr Hart,’ interruptedJane.
‘Oh.’ His face fell, and the ladies murmured in sympathy. But Henrietta’s eyes grew steely.
‘Lucinda Fitzroy?’ She turned to me. ‘Is she a relation of yours, Mrs Fitzroy?’
‘Yes, she is my niece,’ I replied.
‘A delightful young lady,’ added Jane helpfully.
Henrietta sniffed. ‘If she is in York, then she is of no consequence. My April is here and readily available for walks and outings after church. Do you own a carriage, Mr Hart?’
Mr Hart’s mouth dropped open slightly. ‘I ... um ... yes?’
Poor April looked absolutely mortified and seemed to shrink into herself. Elizabeth’s attempts at matchmaking paled in comparison to Henrietta’s—the woman was a monster!
As much as I wanted to keep Lucinda’s condition a secret from Mr Hart, I could not stand to see him bullied by a desperate mama. He was obviously smitten with my niece as he had travelled all the way from London to see her. If there was a chance that he could overlook the fact that she was pregnant with his brother’s child, then he had to be given the benefit of the doubt.
In desperation, I let out a loud ‘OOOOOOH’ and doubled over, clasping my abdomen.
