“Thank you.”
“How was your ride?” Arthur inquired.
“Very well. Until Onyx’s accident. I really enjoyed it,” Harriet said. “I really liked Jack.”
“Jack?” Daphne asked.
“Yes, his mother’s gelding, Jack. He’s a delight to ride.”
“Before I forget, we’re going to have a dinner guest this evening,” Arthur said.
“Who?” Harriet asked.
“Do you remember Robert Newton?”
“I can’t say that I do,” Harriet replied.
Arthur cleared his throat. “He and I are working on a project in Parliament. We’re almost finished with our report. Somehow, he invited himself to dinner so we could work on the report and finish it this evening.”
Daphne smiled. “I think he’s interested in you.”
Harriet’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t think to tell him of Lucien?”
Picking up his teacup, Arthur looked anywhere but at Harriet. “It happened so fast, he’d done the damage by then.”
“Well, don’t think I’m going to entertain him.”
“Of course not. After dinner we’re going to my study for port and to finish our report. You can do whatever you like. Perhaps you and Daphne can play cards,” Arthur suggested.
“If we play cards and you finish before we’re finished, he’ll probably want to join in,” Harriet said rolling her eyes.
“Yes, I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“He’s a boorish man. Nothing he does would surprise me,” Harriet replied.
Daphne smiled broadly. “Listen to you. We never would have heard you speak in such a matter when you first arrived on our doorstep.”
“I’ve had a couple of incredible tutors,” she replied.
“Which I can’t take the credit for,” Arthur said. “It’s been all Daphne. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I’m going to prepare for my meeting with Newton.”
Both women waited until Arthur had left the room to say anything. Harriet shook her head as she picked up her tea and Daphne did the same.
“What’s the ugliest dress I have? I’ll be sure to wear it this evening,” Harriet said.
That emitted a giggle from Daphne.
“I’m serious. Just because he’s coming for dinner doesn’t mean I have to dress to please him.”
“No one said you did,” Daphne replied.
Both women sat there pensively. Harriet silently went through her wardrobe to see if she might come up with the perfect fashion choice for this situation. She recalled the evening gown her mother had had commissioned for last year. It was hideous, a frothy orange dress her mother had realized was a bad choice for a ball but could be used for other functions.
“If you’ll excuse me. I need to have my maid press the gown I have in mind,” Harriet said.
“I guess I had best do the same,” Daphne replied.
Both women left the drawing room to go upstairs to their private dressing rooms. Harriet was grateful to have some time to herself before this Newton fellow arrived and changed how she’d hoped to spend the evening.
