A few gentlemen strolled by, some she recognized from her ball. She gave them a nod. One stopped beside her and bowed.
“Good day, Miss Faraday. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
She scrambled to remember his name, but nothing came to mind. She curtsied and smiled politely.
Isabelle Worthington stepped beside him. “Good day, Mr. Pratt. How are you this fine afternoon?”
He bowed. “I’m having a pleasing day, Your Grace. And yourself?”
Isabelle grinned. “I’m taking my ward shopping.”
The man’s eyes beamed as his smile widened. “How lovely.”
The dowager touched Judith’s arm. “My dear, you remember Mr. Henry Pratt from your party. He’s Viscount Newby’s youngest son.”
The name didn’t ring any bells of familiarity, but she had no other choice but to act like it. “Of course I do.”
“Mr. Pratt, I believe we received an invitation from your mother for a dinner social, did we not?”
His cheeks turned a dark red. “I hope so, Your Grace. I would very much enjoy getting to know Miss Faraday a little better. I fear her dance card was so full it was almost impossible to speak with her.”
Judith chuckled. “What a whirlwind night that was. I look forward to talking with you during your mother’s party.”
He bowed again then walked away. When Judith’s gaze fell upon Isabelle and her friends, their wide smiles let her know they were up to no good. It was enough to make Judith scream.
“Mr. Henry Pratt would make a fine husband, Miss Faraday,” the lady to her left said. “His father is an educated man and has taught him well.”
“Indeed,” another woman spoke. “His family holds strong to their religion. I heard Mr. Pratt intends to have his own Parish one day.”
Judith kept her smile. She didn’t know what to say.Sorry, he’s not like Trey, and I won’t take anything less.Of course not. That would be rude.
Isabelle told her friends goodbye, then turned and walked up the street with Judith by her side. The dowager continued telling her everything she knew about the Viscount’s family. A year ago this would have interested Judith. Not now. Yet it seemed the older woman was insistent that Judith allow Mr. Pratt to court her to see if they would suit. She ground her teeth. This wasn’t something she wished to do. However, she was still the dowager’s ward and so must obey.
An idea jumped into Judith’s head and she grinned. If Isabelle wanted Mr. Pratt to court Judith, she would, but she’d do it on her own terms. This particular courtship would not last longer than a day if she had her way.
Judith and the dowager entered a little shop at the end of the street, and after partaking of tea and crumpets, Isabelle moaned and placed her hand on her forehead.
“Oh, dear. I fear I’ve overdone myself today.”
Judith touched the older woman’s wrinkled, frail hand. “Do you wish to return home?”
“Trey said he would meet us here. I hope he comes quickly.”
Glancing around the room, Judith didn’t see him anywhere. “Do you wish me to find him now?”
“No, dear. I’m certain he will be here shortly.”
Within seconds, the older woman’s face turned white. Judith panicked. She pushed away from the table and ran to fetch someone who worked at the establishment. The man wearing an apron was the first person she grabbed.
“Sir, please help me. My guardian is very ill.” She pointed to the direction of her table. “Do you have a back room where she can lie down?”
His eyes widened and he nodded. Judith rushed to the table with him by her side. He helped Isabelle up, and her legs wobbled as they took her to the back room. A small room with a cot was behind the kitchen, and thankfully, the room was warm and comfortable enough for the dowager.
Judith located a blanket and spread it over Isabelle.
“My dear, what are you doing?” the older woman asked with a cracked voice.
“Your Grace, you almost swooned out there.”
