Page 7 of A Lady's Guide to Scandal

Mr de Lacy ducked his head bashfully. Yes, quite so – the fishing line grew taut in her hands.

‘Just what anyone would do,’ Mr de Lacy protested. ‘The gentlemanly thing, you know.’

‘You give yourself far too little credit!’ she insisted warmly, before adding, as breathily as she could: ‘Did you serve upon the Peninsula? You have the bearing of a soldier.’

Mr de Lacy went a bright pink.

‘No-no,’ he hastened to correct her. ‘I was too young – I should have liked to go, but I had not yet finished school. My brother fought at Waterloo – wasn’t supposed to, of course, being the firstborn – but he’s never heeded that sort of thing …’ He trailed off, conscious that he was straying off topic. ‘But I was captain of the cricket team at Eton you know!’

‘Oh marvellous. You must be a very fine sportsman.’

Mr de Lacy was pleased enough to accept this compliment, however blushingly. In fact, over the next few minutes he was pleased to discover all sorts of new things about himself: that he had a soldier’s bearing, a hero’s instincts, a strong arm, yes, but also that he was terribly amusing and strikingly clever. His opinion was listened to intently, a story from his school-days that his family had listened to with only polite indulgence was to Miss Talbot quite hilarious – as Archie had always suspected to be the case. Miss Talbot had an excellent sense of humour, Archie thought. He had quite no idea, of course, that during their compliment-filled conversation, Miss Talbot was also skilfully extracting a steady stream of information from him: that he adored his elder brother Lord Radcliffe, the head of the family, but that this man was rarely seen in London, that Mr de Lacy would soon be twenty-one, upon which date he would receive the majority of his fortune. No, all Mr de Lacy knew was that he had never enjoyed a walk quite so much in his life. In fact, he thought Miss Talbot the best conversationalist with whom he had ever spoken.

All too soon, they reached the carriages and Lady Amelia stopped in front of an elegant barouche, its hood lowered in deference to the spring air. The coachman and footman sprang to attention at their approach. After instructing Sally to return to Wimpole Street on foot, and sparing a moment to admire the horses – four perfectly matched greys – Kitty was handed in. Lady Amelia and Cecily arranged themselves next to each other on the forward seat, so Mr de Lacy was forced to sit beside Miss Talbot. He cleared his throat, painfully aware of their proximity, and made sure to leave a polite distance between them. Kitty, for her part, looked sideways up at Mr de Lacy from under her eyelashes – a more difficult feat than she had thought – and was rewarded by another blush when he caught her gaze.

The horses moved smoothly off, and the streets of London began whipping past them. Kitty recalculated rapidly – the traffic of the busy city streets was being navigated far more swiftly than she had anticipated, as if the de Lacy insignia was enough to have horses and carriages leaping out of their way, and so it would take them mere minutes to reach Wimpole Street. She heaved a dramatic sigh, looking up at Mr de Lacy.

‘Do you think—’ she began to ask, before cutting herself off and looking down in calculated regret.

‘Yes?’ Mr de Lacy asked eagerly.

‘No, it was most wrong of me to even think it,’ Kitty insisted. ‘You have been too kind already.’

‘I beg of you, ask me anything, Miss Talbot,’ he said.

She capitulated gracefully. ‘My sister and I so depend on our daily walks for fresh air – I cannot bear to be without them. But I fear Cecily is not strong enough to support me, on a sore ankle …’ She trailed off meaningfully, and Mr de Lacy clucked sympathetically, thinking hard. Then, he was struck with an idea.

‘Why, we shall join you again, and you may lean upon me!’ he declared gallantly.

‘Are you sure it would not be too much trouble?’ Kitty asked. ‘We would be most grateful.’

‘Not at all – don’t mention it – not at all,’ he gushed.

They had turned onto Wimpole Street.

‘Then, shall we meet upon the morning, by the West Gate?’ Kitty asked, smiling up at him.

‘Marvellous!’ Then, stricken with doubt, he asked, ‘If you are sure your ankle will be well enough by then?’

‘I have no doubt it shall be,’ Kitty replied, with perfect truth.

They exchanged warm goodbyes and the sisters watched the gleaming carriage – so much taller and grander than the street around it – turn the corner away from them. Kitty breathed out a rapturous sigh. One made one’s own luck, in her belief – and she had a feeling she was about to be very lucky indeed.

Wimpole Street, Monday March 9th

My dearest Beatrice,

We have arrived safely in London, and Aunt Dorothy is all that we had hoped she would be. You need not harbour a single worry about us – Aunt Dorothy and I are both confident I shall be engaged before the Season is out. A few more months of courage, and then all will be well, I promise.

How are you faring? Write back as soon as you receive this with all the news of home. Have you replenished the store cupboard, yet? Are you are finding the coins I left sufficient? If they are not, I shall contrive to send you more, so write directly if you are becoming at all uncomfortable. Should you find yourselves in immediate trouble, call at once upon Mrs Swift – I am sure she will help until I can be contacted.

It still pains me that we will miss Jane’s birthday. The fair should come to Petherton that week, and I put aside some pennies for the express purpose of your visiting it – you will find these in Papa’s desk. Do try to make it as jolly a day as possible, despite our absence.

I do not have the space to write a minute account of our doings, but I will strive to remember each specific detail for you, so that I may relay it all when we return. You three must do the same for Cecily and me, so that once we are together again it will be as if we were never truly apart for a moment.

We miss and love you and shall return as swiftly as we can.

Your loving sister,