Hopefully, no one had seen it, or there’d be no end to the gossip.
“Come, dearest, let’s see if we might get you on your feet.” Lady Fosberry reached for her hand. “You’ll catch your death, sitting on the cold ground.”
“Slowly, Miss Templeton.” Lord Fairmont steadied his hand against her back. “You’ve had a nasty fall.”
“A fall? What… oh, my goodness! There was a gentleman, in a yellow coat.”
It was all coming back to her now. She and Lady Fosberry had come to Hyde Park to take a turn around the Ring, and a gentleman in a yellow coat had hailed Lady Fosberry. He’d been waving his hat in the air to get her ladyship’s attention and had lost control of his pair.
The horses had broken loose, and they’d been coming straight for her! The last thing she remembered she’d squeezed her eyes closed, and braced herself for a carriage accident.
Only it had never happened.
Lord Fairmont had appeared out of nowhere, and dragged her from the carriage! That was why he’d been lying on top of her! He’d wrenched her over the fence, and must have fallen on top of her when they hit the ground.
The ground, in the Ring. The Ring, which had been so crowded with carriages one could hardly stir an inch, and each of those carriages stuffed to bursting with members of the upper ten thousand, all of them on the hunt for the season’s newest scandal…
Dear God. This mishap must have caused the most dreadful scene, and she’d been right in the middle of it! Already there was a buzz of excited voices around her.
Oh, she was afraid to look.
But there was no avoiding it, whether she chose to look or not, because as Lord Fairmont assisted her through the gate and back into the Ring toward Lady Fosberry’s carriage— miraculously, it was still in one piece, and the frightened pair of high steppers now nowhere to be seen —she could feel the bodies pressing closer, and sense the weight of their gazes on her, and the barely-leashed excitement swirling like a thick fog around her.
This was a nightmare. They’d all seen her frozen with terror. They’d all witnessed Lord Fairmont’s heroic rescue— had watched him clasp her in his arms, and…
They’d seen himfall on top of her.
She hadn’t imagined she might remain inconspicuous this season— her family was too notorious for that —but whatever last shred of hope she’d had that thetonmight permit her the barest modicum of privacy had now vanished.
They’d be gossiping about this for weeks to come, and her name was certain to figure prominently in the rumors, despite the entire debacle having been the fault of the gentleman in the canary yellow coat.
“Fetch Euphemia’s shawl, Harriett, won’t you? It’s on the other side of the fence.”
“Yes, of course!” Harriett scurried off, and Lady Fosberry cupped Phee’s elbow in her hand and urged her toward the carriage door. “A hand for Miss Templeton, if you would, James.”
“Of course.” Lord Fairmont took Phee’s hand, his fingers swallowing hers, and helped her into the carriage.
“Here you are, Phee!” Harriett hurried toward them with the shawl in her hand. Her brother assisted her into the carriage, and she sat down next to Phee, wrapping the shawl tenderly around her shoulders. “There. That’s much better.”
“Thank you.” Phee clutched the shawl, pulling it more tightly against her neck. If only she could disappear beneath it! Lord Fairmont had paused to say a few words to Lord Gilbert, and thetonhad taken the opportunity to gather near the carriage and gape at them. If she could have sunk between the blue velvet squabs, she would have done it in an instant.
At last Lord Fairmont swung himself up onto the box, and to her surprise, took the ribbons in hand.
“Is Lyman alright, James?” Lady Fosberry asked. “He’s not hurt, is he?”
“No, he’s fine. I asked him to take my phaeton and pair to my lodgings in St. James’s. After that debacle, I prefer to drive you all back to Fosberry House myself.”
“Yes. I think that’s best.” Lady Fosberry gave an approving nod. “Shall we go, then? We must see Euphemia put to bed right away.”
“There’s no need.” Phee squeezed Lady Fosberry’s hand. “I’m perfectly fine, my lady.”
And she was. The fall had knocked the breath clean out of her, yes, and her backside would be protesting for a few days, but she wasn’t badly hurt.
Certainly not as badly as she would have been if Lord Fairmont hadn’t appeared when he had. How remarkable, that he’d come just at the right time, and it had been quite heroic, the way he’d jumped into the fray without the least hesitation.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d dismissed Lord Gilbert, but he was the sort of gentleman who didn’t need to speak to communicate his displeasure. He sat upright in the box, his back rigid. His lips were pressed into a tight line, and his face was so cold and stony he might have been carved out of marble.
