“I lost count. I haven’t told you the worst of it. When he told me to stop apologizing? I apologized again.”
“Oh, Kate…”
“I know.”
“I love you. You know that, right?”
“But I’m a disaster?”
“A little bit.”
“What am I going to do, Jules? How am I to make it through the entire season? I couldn’t even manage a single hour.”
She merely shrugged with a laugh, wrapping her arms around me.
Five
HYDE PARK, LONDON – OCTOBER 28, 1812
HUGH
It was unseasonably warm,perhaps the last stand of summer before it surrendered completely to fall. Hyde Park was full of members of thetonthere to see and be seen. Everyone who remained at the end of the Season could be found promenading today.
Even my mother rallied in the face of her ever-present megrims. She coerced Tom and I to escort her.
She was somewhat overdressed for the occasion, but I could hardly begrudge her excitement. She had been bedbound for the last several days, after all. Still, I thought her turban could have done with one or two fewer feathers. And her signature perfume seemed to attract more than a few wasps, but they were always more active at the end of their lifespan. It was a struggle to refrain from swatting at the insects and batting at the feathers, though.
Not everyone felt the same need to maintain propriety.
There was a couple ahead of us on the path. They were silhouetted in the evening light. The breeze whipped her bonnet strings across her face, and he tugged playfully at the ends. Her head was tossed back in laughter before she jerked at his cravat with equal tease. Then she grabbed his top hat from his head before sidling away from him. With a jovial chuckle, he chased after her.
Mother gave a disapproving tut at their indecorous display. “So shameful, to behave in such a manner in public. We should not have to be subjected to such antics.”
“They’re just teasing, Mother,” Tom replied.
Personally, I agreed with Mother.
The couple’s antics slowed their pace. Within moments we had closed much of the distance.
The lady caught sight of our rapid approach, snagging his elbow in one hand and tugging him off the path to allow us to pass.
Then she turned back toward me. Recognition shot through me, followed by instinctive irritation. The lady from the ball. The one with the lemonade.
Of course, she would act without the slightest consideration for propriety. In fact, if there were a punch bowl available now, she would upend that as well.
And this gentleman, if he warranted the name at all, was engaging in, nay encouraging this behavior. They were well suited to one another, that was certain.
He was shorter, like her, though not quite as extreme. Instead of her curves though, he was more compact. His apparel was shabby beside her too. Beneath her then, possibly in trade. It was just as well that she made a match outside the gentry. She would never learn to conduct herself properly.
In my distracted perusal, I failed to note the two ladies approaching from the opposite direction on the path. My first warning was Mother’s delighted hum of recognition.
The first of that group, I placed with little trouble, Lady Rycliffe, widow of the late Marquis of Rycliffe. She was well acknowledged as one of the most handsome ladies of theton. The second took but a moment longer to recognize. Lady Davina Hasket, her sister-in-law. Lady Davina was easily one of the most eligible debutantes of the Season.
To my great astonishment, they greeted the lemonade chit amiably. Their actions shocked Mother as well if her choked cluck was any indication.
The situation had become much stickier with their arrival. Before, we could have passed by the girl and her suitor without acknowledgement. Now though, Mother will want the marchioness’s notice.
The decision was taken from me when Lady Rycliffe greeted my mother in her usual thick, French accent. “Lady Grayson! It is so good to see you out and about. I hope you are much improved?”
