Page 24 of The Sprinter
“But what is it,” Lady Easton asked. “You must tell us what it is.”
“Oh, yes, that,” Lady Redfield said, her cheeks flaming. “The Sprinter, is what I was told.”
The Sprinter? Good Lord, what did it mean? Did it hint at an elopement? If people thought Grace was attempting to elope, the story would have wings. The speculation would go on and on over who the gentleman was. There was nothing thetonliked so much as to speculate on a hidden romance.
“A disaster,” Lady Easton said.
“A fiasco,” the duchess said.
“A debacle,” Lady Featherstone said.
“A calamity, I was thinking?” Lady Redfield said hopefully.
“I am only glad my Georgiana did not think to climb out a window,” Lady Mendleton said, shaking her head sadly.
Lady Heathway drew in a breath. She must keep her mind on the task at hand and not on her wish to beat Louisa about the head if she mentioned her unimpeachable new daughter-in-law one more time.
“This may be a steeper hill to climb than I had first imagined,” Lady Heathway said. “But nothing is impossible, not forus. Our reputations are unsurpassed. We have founded a society that must be defended. What we need, at this moment, is a plan.”
Most in the room looked fairly lost, leading ladies of London though they might be. But the duchess nodded in agreement. “A very forceful plan,” she said. “And I believe I know just what we must do.”
Lady Heathway breathed a sigh of relief thatsomebodyknew what was to be done, as she had not the first idea.
*
Grace had notparticularly wished to go out in the carriage, but Lady Heathway was determined about it. She insisted the fresh air would do Grace good.
She’d woken up in the morning embarrassed and had lingered in her bedchamber until she thought she could not any longer. Embarrassment was a feeling she was not very accustomed to. She had been foolish and then gone ahead and done something remarkably foolish. She’d had her reasons, of course, but it did not appear those reasons had held up under further scrutiny. She had been bristling over Lord Gresham and then bristling over Lady Heathway’s dismissiveness and certain her mother was being held as a prisoner.
However, a person hearing the tale would not know the first thing about her reasons. What would she, herself, think, if she heard the tale told of some other lady?
By the by, did you hear that Miss So-and-So was recently hanging like a vine on the outside of her house in the early dawn? Yes, it appears she then evaded a bullet coming her way and promptly collapsed into a stand of bushes. I suppose she had her reasons…
As the carriage meandered through the park, Betsy had tried to cheer her by commenting that she could not be the first lady who’d climbed out a window and been shot at.
She wished that were true, but she rather thought she might be.
Lady Heathway had sent them out in the barouche with the top down as the day was particularly warm. Grace sometimes got the feeling, as they passed people by, that she was being stared at. Certainly, it was her imagination. She had not the first idea of what would be said of her adventure the night before, but whatever it was, it could not possibly have been said so soon.
Nevertheless, she kept her eyes straight ahead and avoided making eye contact.
“Is that Lord Gresham?” Betsy said. “Aye, it’s him, neckcloth as smart as ever. Mrs. Redwiggin says his valet is very famous. In valet circles.”
At the mention of Lord Gresham, Grace felt her heart pick up its beat. She had been doing her absolute best to avoid thinking of the scolding she’d heard from him the night before. It had said so much about his opinion of her—she was foolish and naïve. She was further stung by the suspicion that he was right.
She followed Betsy’s glance, though she had not intended to. She had for a moment thought they might pass each other by and pretend they did not see one another. He would probably prefer it. But, her eyes had drifted of their own accord.
He was mounted on a large bay who had rather wild eyes, as if he was anticipating the signal to gallop. Betsy had told no tales regarding his person. His jacket was a dark green wool, and he wore buckskins and marvelously polished hessians. His valet would be well-able to retain his position at the top of the valet circles—his neckcloth was done meticulously.
She really did wish he was not quite as handsome as he was. He was very hard not to admire! Even if hewereconstantly insulting her.
Grace had a wistful feeling steal over her when she thought of when he had stepped into the room of all things at Barlow House, entirely unknown to her. She, at that moment, was equally unknown to him. When she had come down the stairs after Lady Heathway had sent her up to pack, she had flattered herself that he’d given her an admiring glance. She admitted to herself that she had not been at all opposed to it.
But now, all of that unknowingness, that newness that might have gone in any direction, had gone in quite the bad direction. Some of it was his fault and some her own, but regardless of who lay at fault, it was a shame. And if she were to look at things in a cold, hard light, her performance of last night must surpass anything rude he’d said. He had only offendedher; she may have offended all of society.
Lord Gresham reined in his horse. “Miss Yardley,” he said, “I trust you do well today?”
Grace nodded. “Lord Gresham. I ought to thank you for your assistance last night.”
