Chapter Four
“Whatare you doing?” came a stern voice, making Glynnis jump.
It was Lord Hargrove, who’d become practically her shadow ever since the encounter with the Prince Regent. That meeting had gone better than expected. His Royal Highness had already imbibed enough to be happy and welcoming, but not so much that he later wouldn’t recall how well they’d fallen in with one another.
She sensed having his favor for the remainder of her stay in Brighton would be essential. Any friend of the prince’s would always be surrounded by the highest level of society. Surely one of the men would want her as his wife.
Thus, she had continued to amuse him until he truly couldn’t ignore his courtiers any longer. Finally, Glynnis had curtsied, hopefully leaving him wanting more of her company. As for the Regent ordering Hargrove to look after her, Glynnis hadn’t decided yet if that was good or bad. Until that moment...
“I am going to join the other party-goers outside.”
“Most are indoors, either in the music room or strolling Nash’s new gallery.”
She frowned. “Do I have to go where everyone else is?”
“It’s safer,” he pointed out.
Glynnis couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “We are in the middle of a royal assembly. It is not yet midnight. The entire town is like a safe version of London.”
“Not that safe,” James insisted. “The Prince Regent doesn’t only bring the—” he coughed once “—the wagtails.” She raised her eyebrows, and he hurried to add, “The disreputable females, if you take my meaning.”
She nodded, wondering where he was going with this awkward speech.
“Inadvertently, his entourage brings from London the scapegraces and nappers, the light-fingered budges, the bully-cocks, silk-snatchers, and common pickpockets.”
She knew she wore an astounded expression.
“You cannot seriously be trying to frighten me into thinking charming seaside Brighton is anything like the streets of London, particularly east of St. Paul’s.”
They stared at one another in silence, until finally, Hargrove expelled a breath and confessed, “No, I suppose not.”
“Then I will head outside, my lord. In all probability, I shall return in time for the next piece. I believe the prince said it would be Beethoven.”
“Not without me, you’re not.”
And then it hit her like an iron spade. If Hargrove wouldn’t compromise her, then he would be the perfect witness to some other man doing so. She only need dodge him long enough to get a baron, a viscount, or if she were extremely lucky, an earl to take her behind the hedgerow. She would let him place his hands on her waist and kiss her, and then Hargrove would happen upon them like a dog at the hunt.
He seemed like the type of man who would demand instant satisfaction — and she would find herself engaged before sunrise.
“Very well, but don’t hover,” she said. “If you do, then people will think we’re a couple. What will that do to my reputation?”
He looked at her, narrowing his attractive eyes.
“I shall introduce you to a lady or two, and then you can stay in a group with them, unless you know some from Town.”
She hadn’t attended a Season or three to make female friends, nor had any of the other ladies. And if one didn’t have sisters or cousins or even a mother who had Mayfair friends, then each ballroom was nothing more than a chamber full of vicious competitors.
“I don’t need to meet any ladies,” she said too quickly.
“You can’t meet any more men. You’re engaged and that would affect your reputation far more quickly than walking around with me.”
“I disagree. Because I am engaged, I should have the freedom to keep company with anyone I choose in the public areas.”
