“Take note, Miss Hartley,” she said in a firm voice, “of the tufts of hair on the calf’s ossicones — such an adorable sight! And do you see how pale her spots are compared to her mother’s? They will darken with age.”
“How very interesting,” Dora replied, softly. When her mother cleared her throat, the girl sighed and reached up to remove her spectacles.
“I wear a pair myself for reading,” Lady Raffles murmured.
Belinda was careful not to watch as Dora put the contentious pair away, thinking,If only her mother were not so vain, she might see wellallof the time.
Perhaps realizing there were no more carrots to be had, the giraffes plodded away, their tails swishing like restless tassels, and settled back down amidst the straw.
Still ill at ease, Lindy thanked Lady Raffles effusively for the special treat she had granted them. The others agreed, bidding her farewell.
Emerging from the stable, the ladies saw that the drizzle that had been threatening all morning had begun in earnest. Bidding their hostess adieu, they hurried through the gardenstowards the Gloucester Gate. Lindy held Dora’s hand, pulling her along carefully that she mightn’t stumble. Climbing into the awaiting carriage, they dabbed at their faces and necks with a lap blanket as Mrs Hartley longed vociferously for a hot cup of tea.
As the carriage rolled out of the yard, Lindy was contemplative. In the previous two hours, the draw she had felt towards Dora when they met at Green Park had blossomed into genuine friendship. The thought of being at her side from day to day was far more appealing than doing the same for someone like Mrs Phylter.
However, if I were to join the Hartleys’ household, the mother would also be my constant companion.
I mustn’t act rashly as there is much to consider before I speak of this idea to anyone.
All the way back to Mayfair, Mrs Hartley prattled on about every marvelous sight they had just seen, mentioning often what a shame it was that Mrs Caspar had missed it all.
“If only she’d gone with us, she might have fed a giraffe, for goodness sake!” She peeped out of the window as the carriage pulled to a stop. “Oh! And who, pray tell, isthat?”
Peering out, Belinda saw Mr Alwyn standing on the front steps of the townhouse. He was looking up at the clouds, adjusting his coat collar.
Oh, dear! I thought that he would be gone by now!
Setting her face to indifference, Lindy replied. “That is the doctor’s apprentice, who is tending to my uncle.”
“What a fine-looking fellow!” Mrs Hartley declared, pulling a mischievous grin. “It’s a shame he’s only a doctor.”
“What’s he like, Belinda? Tell us!” Dora demanded, playfully.
Goodness, must I?Lindy bit her lip. Then, studying Mr Alwyn through the window as if she did not already have countless details of his person memorized, she said nonchalantly, “He is a competent practitioner, very knowledgable, and as you see, he is tall and sturdy. His grey eyes are warm, and his voice is low and—”
She broke off, having nearly said ‘low and soothing’.
Next I’ll tell them all about his bulging forearms!
At exactly that moment, Mr Alwyn looked over, and Belinda recoiled from the carriage window. But Mrs Hartley waggled her fingers at him, calling out, “Hallooo!”
Fit to die, Lindy could only imagine him saluting in return, a little smirk on his handsome face.
If I were to live with this woman, I’d be subjected to this sort of nonsense every day.The recent billow of hope she had felt deflated into resignation.But I was not born fortunate enough to choose my ideal situation, and every rose has its thorns.
“Such a manly demeanour,” Mrs Hartley purred, then stopped abruptly. “No Dora, don’t get those out again!”
Glancing, Belinda saw that Miss Hartley’s spectacles were on her face once more.
“Ah, there he is!” Dora propped her chin on the little ledge under the window. “And how thoughtful of him to adjust his hat that I might better see his face. Oh, he’s off down the street now – what a shame!”
“Dear Miss Everson,” Mrs Hartley giggled. “Do not look so scandalized. Your uncle’s doctor is in no real danger from the likes of us.”
“Yes,” Miss Hartley said dryly, tucking her lenses away again, this time in a pocket hidden in her skirt. “We only play at being predatory.”
Her mother cackled uproariously.
“Oh! Speaking of plays, or burlettas rather…” Dora continued. “Mamma, can we not invite Belinda to join us at the Adelphi on Friday?”
