With relief, he smiled and took her arm.
Then she added, “The only nonsensical thing is how her boot got up in the rafters in the first place. Was she using it to lure a man to help her? If so, it worked.”
Greer froze mid-step. “I assure you, my lady, Miss Rare-Foure had no way of knowing anyone would come after her, particularly a man.”
“Hm,” she said. “If you say so. In any case, she should not have wandered off alone away from a group picnic. That’s simply ill-mannered and not done in polite society.”
He started walking again with no rejoinder. In truth, it wasn’t the smartest thing Beatrice had ever done, although he couldn’t understand why it was bad manners for her to want a little time alone with her thoughts. No one would mind if he went for a walk by himself.
They returned to the picnic area, and he realized people were starting to leave. Carriages had pulled up on the road across the other side of the lawn, waiting to take them to the train station.
“It was a very pleasant day,” Lady Emily said.
“I hope you didn’t miss out on your tea in order to come find me.”
“That’s fine. I’m glad I came and saw with my own two eyes. If a rumor comes out about you being half-clothed on the banks of the Thames with a woman nearby, at least I shall know the truth.”
“A rumor,” he echoed. “Do you think there might be? Will that harm Miss Rare-Foure’s reputation?”
He felt Lady Emily stiffen where their arms touched. “I should not worry,” she said, but he was unconvinced. He should never have removed his coat.What a bungler!
“Do you think Lady Gravens will say something?”
Lady Emily made a tut-tutting sound. “Doubtful. It would reflect badly on her hostessing duties, particularly as there are debutantes attending.”
“Then that’s all right. Her sister won’t say anything, nor the gentleman with whom she partnered all day. A gentleman would never start vile gossip, would he? And I certainly won’t say anything since it was all my fault in the first place. I should have taken my boot off at once or found a rock.”
That left Lady Emily, and he couldn’t believe she would say anything.
***
“ICANNOT BELIEVE THATsnout-nosed lady has made a mountain out of a mole’s hill!” Beatrice fumed at breakfast the following day. “She must have gone home by racehorse to get her nasty story into the right ears before the printers went to bed.”
“We don’t know for certain,” Charlotte began, seated across from her at breakfast.
However, Beatrice was convinced. The papers had mentioned a Miss R-F caught far from her group with a Mr. A undressing nearby.
“Why would she say anything?” Charlotte mused, putting strawberry jam on her toast.
“It wasn’t you, nor I. It wasn’t Mr. Carson, and I doubt it was our hostess, since I was supposed to be under her watchful eye. And I doubt our two partners for the day cared a hoot or even knew who Mr. Carson was.”
“But why would anyone call him Mr. A?” Charlotte asked.
Beatrice took a bite of her rasher of bacon. “I think it was Lady Emily. She is forming an attachment to him so she concealed his real name, not wanting to sully him and therefore herself by connection. Yet she knows him to be an American, hence the A. Ultimately, I think it was a message to me.”
Charlotte frowned. “Do tell.”
“She has seen us together at more than one ball, so she is warning me off.”
Her sister nodded. “That’s possible.”
“What’s possible?” their mother asked, entering in a cloud of rose-scented toilet water, a comforting, familiar scent.
“That Mr. Carson’s love interest is jealous of Beatrice,” Charlotte volunteered.
Beatrice poured her mother a cup of tea and wished her sister would occasionally think before she spoke.
“Does Mr. Carson have a potential wife in mind so quickly?” Felicity Rare-Foure asked.
