Unfortunately Etta didn’t see Max again until she was at the latest fashionable exhibition at the British Museum – and when she did, as much as she’d been replaying their kiss every spare moment ever since she left him reeling in his carriage, she was hardly in the mood for difficult discussions. She was convulsed in laughter over what was possibly the most bizarrely formed tiger she’d ever seen when she heard what was unmistakably Miss Marley’s pointed cough, only feet behind her.
‘Lord Stanhope, while I’m grateful for your escort, I fear not everyone is as appreciative of these marvels as we.’
Etta ignored the outraged Miss Marley and her obligatory tittering hanger-on, not even minding that they’d somehow snagged him as an escort – primarily because this tiger was almost too good to be true.
‘Max,’ she gasped, ‘is that …? What on earth have they done to that tiger?’
Miss Marley bristled beside him. ‘Miss Bainbridge. Of course. Well, as I’m sure you know, this exhibition isconsidered the best in the world. Although I imagine many people might struggle to understand the majesty and wonder of these awe-inspiring beasts.’
If Miss Marley was trying to have a dig, it was wide of the mark.
‘But look – look! Its face!’ Etta was clutching her stomach in laughter.
‘I fail to see the humour, Miss Bainbridge.’
‘Look, though! Max – ugh, Lord Stanhope, whatever – look, one eye’s looking at you and one’s looking at Mama, over there by the window. And why—’ Etta paused, gasping for breath, ‘why is its tongue hanging out?’
Miss Marley looked ready to explode with irritation, but Etta was too far gone to gather herself. She’d also just spotted the tiger’s tiny, splayed toes, which didn’t help things.
‘Miss Bainbridge, control yourself! Who are you to say you know the slightest thing about tigers?’
‘Well, clearly I know more than the absolute moron who stuffed this poor thing. Look how fat its tail is! Like a huge sausage … Oh my god, I can’t bear it. It’s too much.’
Etta turned her back to the tiger, mopping her eyes.
‘Miss Bainbridge, you should know that my brother has worked tirelessly with the museum to curate this exhibition,’ said Miss Marley icily.
Etta snorted. ‘He must be very disappointed, then.’
‘I didn’t realise you were a renowned tiger expert, Hetty. Maybe that’s what you’ve been spending all that time in the country getting up to. Learning about tigers, and not being a lunatic and an embarrassment to your family. How wrong we were to assume you were locked in an attic wailing like a caged animal!’
Wiping her eyes, Etta couldn’t miss Max’s sharp intake of breath. He wasn’t the only one. Miss Marley’s pale companion was also clearly appalled, but was the first to break the icy silence.
‘Maria, let us look at the next exhibit. Leave Miss Bainbridge to admire the tiger.’ And before either of them could say or do anything, she whisked Miss Marley away.
Etta let out a strangled choke from behind her handkerchief and Max automatically stepped towards her.
‘Miss Bainbridge, are you well? I’m sure Miss Marley didn’t mean to—’
‘Oh, I’m sure she did. I’d love to say I didn’t think she had it in her. But tell me, is that tiger truly as ludicrous as it was the first time I looked at it?’
‘You’re not upset?’
Etta let down her hanky, her wet eyes were accompanied by a wry smile.
‘Oh, upset at that horrid little cow? I don’t care for her opinion. Come on, let’s take a closer look at this – this tiger.’
Max looked puzzled, but his mouth flexed into a crooked smile as he looked at it again. ‘Yes. I can’t say I’ve seen one in the flesh, but I must say it’s not quite like the illustrations in my library.’
‘Oh, you’ve not seen one?’
He paused. ‘And you have?’
‘Henrietta?’ Etta’s mother’s voice rang out softly from behind them. She must have heard them talking. ‘How could you have seen one?’
Etta was lost for words. She stared helplessly at her mother and then back at Max. He finally took pity on her.
‘Illustrations, probably. In your family’s library.’
