“Yes, we made it back before things got worse,” Daphne replied.
“Luckily, my afternoon meetings were postponed until tomorrow. I came home to work on some matters.”
“Harriet had a successful meeting with my modiste. She’s going to look amazing during this season.”
“There was never any doubt in my mind,” Arthur replied.
Harriet knew she was blushing; her cheeks felt hot. She wasn’t used to being complimented by anyone, let alone a man. Her father always left that to her mother, who seemed to belittle her every chance she had. In her mother’s eyes she could do nothing right. She silently couldn’t wait for her mother to see the new look, because she knew her mother and father would attend a few of the balls if only to get a glimpse of her. To see if Arthur and Daphne failed like they had, which wasn’t going to happen.
*
The following morningHarriet was taking a walk in the gardens while Daphne was tending to household affairs when she heard two male voices discussing horses. She had no idea where they were, but knew they weren’t far off. One man was Arthur, the other unknown. Hearing a horse snorting, Harriet deducted theywere on horseback. She inched closer to the laurel hedge that ran the perimeter of the back of the house. Jameson House occupied a larger lot than most of the houses, something to do with Arthur’s family securing enough land to build the house on and be able to enjoy their stays in London without being like a school of fish and packed together.
Her parents kept a large townhome in London. The original house had burned to the ground in a fire during her great-grandfather’s day and rather than rebuild he bought a new newly constructed townhouse. There wasn’t as much room, but the three of them managed nicely. That’s how the family came to live where they were. Her mother, of course, wanted bigger, but since it was entailed, they couldn’t just sell it. It was one topic her father had the upper hand on. It wasn’t as though they spent an enormous amount of time in London.
Walking over to a bed of roses, Harriet stayed just close enough to where her cousin and his guest were. She didn’t have to wait long before the pair walked into the garden. From the direction they came, Harriet deduced they’d been near the mews. She pretended to act startled so they wouldn’t know what she’d been up to moments earlier. Eavesdropping. She glanced their way and saw them walking her way.
“Harriet, enjoying the lovely weather?” Arthur asked as the two men neared.
“Oh yes, such a change from yesterday.”
He turned to the man standing next to him. “Martin, may I introduce my cousin Lady Harriet. She is our guest during the upcoming season.”
The dark-blond man took her hand in his and kissed the back. “Lady Harriet, it is nice to meet you.”
“Lord Martin,” she replied. There it was. His arrogance.
“Lord Martin came to look at one of my geldings that was brought down from Kent.”
“Do you ride, Lady Harriet?” Lord Martin asked with a smirk on his lips. A smirk she’d love to slap off. He was just like every other man she’d been introduced to through her parents.
She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Yes, I ride.”
Arthur arched a brow. He knew the truth. Her mother would barely let her ride sidesaddle and once her mother convinced her father that proper young ladies shouldn’t ride, Harriet never did again.
Her cousin cleared his throat. “We’ll leave you to your walk, Harriet. Lord Martin and I have some things to discuss about the gelding I just showed him.”
“It was very nice to meet you, Lord Martin,” she said.
The obnoxious man did an exaggerated bow, the smirk back on his face. Arthur smiled and winked at her. “Cousin, enjoy your time in the gardens.”
She nodded but said nothing, turning her attention back to a lovely dark-red rose bush. Once their footfalls faded, Harriet turned back towards the house and saw the pair on the terrace sitting at a table. Drats, she was going to have to pass them on her way unless they continued on to Arthur’s study.
By the time she’d had enough of her walk, she headed back to the house, noting neither of the men were still at the table. She had just set foot in the drawing room when Daphne appeared out of nowhere. She was wearing a sage-green day dress with darker green piping on the edges. On her the color looked magnificent. Harriet doubted she could do the same.
“Did you get a chance to meet Lord Martin?” she giggled as she indicated they sit down.
“What’s his deal? He thinks highly of himself, doesn’t he?”
“That’s just Martin. By the way, he’s married, but a shameless flirt,” Daphne replied.
“That’s putting it mildly. I hope he doesn’t do it when his wife is with him.”
Daphne shook her head. “He’s hopelessly in love with Vicki as is she with him.”
“In other words, he’s the doting husband.”
“Yes. I suppose we should discuss some of the men you’ll be meeting.”
