“You all right, miss?” came his voice from above.
“Yes, a little startled.” Good thing she didn’t have customers in the shop. Getting struck by plaster would certainly be bad for business.
“More to come,” he said. “That tarpaulin wouldn’t have been a bad idea after all.”
Rolling her eyes, she looked at the fine layer of white dust already covering everything. Maybe that would be Edward’s task over the next few days, keeping up with mess in the front of the shop.
“Mr. Tufts,” she called out, but he was still sawing the great rectangle for the top of the staircase.
“Mr. Tufts,” she said again and the sawing ceased.
“Yes, miss.”
“Your nephew and I will clean this up at the end of the day, but please bring a tarpaulin tomorrow. I fear we already may have some scratches or gouges in the floor down here, but we shall carry on.”
“Yes, miss,” he agreed and resumed the sawing.
“Yes, miss,” she muttered and went into the back room to pack up the rest of the deliveries for the day.
CHARLOTTE OPENED HER front door, heart pounding as hard as if Mr. Tufts were dropping plaster behind her. There was Charles, looking incredibly handsome in a tan coat and pants with black riding boots and his crop in his hand, which he raised as he doffed his hat.
“Are you ready, Miss Rare-Foure?”
“I am,” she said. She’d been pacing for the last half hour while looking out the front window, eager to get started. She had on her favorite shade of green with a full skirt for draping over the pommel and saddle and a smart-looking, brushed-cotton paletot. With her hat in place, a pretty feather protruding out the back of it and the weather holding up with brilliant sun, she was anticipating a wonderful ride.
He turned around and gestured behind him. Not only did he have two horses but, as promised, he had a footman holding their reins and another one, mounted and holding the other footman’s horse. It was quite the gathering — two footmen as chaperones for a ride with the Viscount Jeffcoat.How could this be happening to her?
In a few minutes, she’d been helped upon Trudy, a gentle chestnut-colored mare with a pretty white blaze on her forehead. Charles rode a slender gray roan. The horses moved at an ambling pace toward the Marble Arch and Hyde Park’s northeast entrance. Despite it being a new experience, Charlotte felt no trepidation, nothing but happiness. Thus, she was surprised when Charles turned to her and told her not to fear.
“If anything happens on the crowded Rotten Row, Trudy will carry you safely through.”
“Honestly, I am not worried. I never see the sense in fearing the worst.” It was true, and while it kept her from being an anxious or overly cautious person, she knew it sometimes made her act without considering all the consequences.But what could go wrong during an afternoon ride with Lord Jeffcoat? Or with expanding her mother’s confectionery, for that matter?
They traveled in silence through Portman Square and along Oxford Street. Upon entering the park, Charlotte couldn’t help smiling as they took the path south to The Serpentine and the King’s Road beyond. She’d never seen it from this vantage, looking over the park from atop a horse. There were many people out, and every one of them seemed joyful. Children with hoops and sticks and balls, families picnicking, and couples strolling together. And there were many other riders, both on horseback and in carriages as well.
“It seems to be the busiest place in London,” Charlotte said, having to raise her voice to be heard over the many park-goers.
He nodded. “Very crowded, indeed. It is less so during the week when all the businesses and factories are open. Then you have only the nobility to contend with and not...,” he trailed off.
Charlotte stared at him. He had been going to say something insulting. Of that, there was no doubt.The riffraff, perhaps?The regular, working-class people, of whom she was firmly one, were in his lordship’s way while he rode his horse on a Sunday.
Plainly, the viscount was a pompous snout-nose, after all, and Charlotte wondered how on earth she could excuse that or even ignore it long enough to fall in love with him.
Perhaps she shouldn’t go to the effort.
Chapter Nineteen
Aspark of annoyance flashed through her. Beatrice had been lucky to fall for a man who was as ordinary as they come — except for being a strange American and wealthy, to boot. And while Amity had captured the heart of a duke, he had always seemed the most unassuming man. Obviously, he lived in the rarefied world of the aristocrats, and now her oldest sister did, too, but the Duke of Pelham had never made a single conceited comment that Charlotte could recall.
Plainly, she and the viscount were from two different worlds and, undoubtedly, they saw London in vastly dissimilar ways. Today, for instance, Charlotte saw the beauty of all the city’s people enjoying the outdoors. How she wished she had a big bag of confectionery to give out.
What if Charles saw them like rats swarming all over his precious park?
“I apologize,” he said into her continued silence. “I’m sure that sounded impossibly arrogant.”
“It did,” she said stiffly. “Although I take your meaning. You wouldn’t want to trample over some factory worker on his one day off and soil your horse’s hooves.”
“Sharp-tongued comments don’t suit you,” he said. “A sweet kitten howling like a banshee. Anyway, I apologized. Of course, I don’t wish to trample anyone. I was only bemoaning the crowds that will prevent us letting the horses have their head for even a minute. Truth be told, I would rather be racing over a field at my country estate than anywhere in London.” He glanced around him. “At certain times of the week, depending on the weather, you can trot and gallop without running into anyone. But at my estate, I can run my horse without fear of collision or mishap. And I can wear anything I like rather than being dressed to keep up with my peers.”
