Page 66 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘Bad luck,’ Pip said sympathetically.

‘“Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered”.’ Prett quoted with a sage nod.

‘I’m not sure I understand the relevance, here, sir,’ Ashford began.

‘It is Shakespeare,’ Lydia hissed. ‘Cymbeline.’

‘You have a good memory,’ Prett praised. ‘Impressive.’

Lydia preened.

‘Even more so,’ Ashford said. ‘Given she cannot read.’

16

The party dispersed as quickly as dandelion seeds, just as soon as they arrived into Eagleton. In one moment, Lady Phoebe had appropriated Dacre’s arm and borne him off on some unnamed errand, merrily instructing them to meet back at the carriages in two hours. In the next, Pip had slid off, muttering darkly about jewellers, and almost immediately after that, Prett had been approached by a clutch of nervous young women bearing autograph books.

‘Yes, tis I!’ he declared, spreading his arms in welcome.

‘I refuse to watch this,’ Ashford said.

‘To the ribbons?’ Mr Brandon suggested.

‘Yes,’ Lydia agreed. Furthering her acquaintance with the captain could wait until her scent had improved, and in the meantime, this was a serviceable opportunity to push Miss Hesse in Ashford’s direction. ‘Perhaps, Mr Brandon, you and I could …’

But Mr Brandon had already offered his arm to Miss Hesse with an extraneous flourish, leaving Ashford no choice but to offer the same to Lydia. He held out his arm with far less enthusiasm than Mr Brandon, and Lydia took it without any at all. Matchmaking was proving far more difficult than she had expected – she had new respect for Lady Hesse’s plight, and found herself wishing, though she scarce would have predicted it only a day before, that this lady be present to help.

Though Eagleton was not a large town, it boasted an impressive high street, counting a jeweller’s, stationer’s, library, printshop and several establishments devoted to raiment amongst its offerings. Of these, Burton’s was the grandest and busiest: serving as a linen-draper, milliner and haberdashery united, one glance into its window showing it to be already thronging with people.

‘There is not room for us all to enter at once,’ Lydia said. ‘Mr Brandon perhaps if you and—’

The end of the sentence had been ‘I’, but Mr Brandon interceded before she could finish.

‘A famous idea,’ he said promptly. ‘Miss Hesse and I shall lead the way!’

Foiled again. Lydia resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

‘How is it all going?’ Ashford said, voice thick with faux sympathy, as the bell over the door dinged behind them. ‘Not well?’

‘Oh, hush,’ Lydia snapped, turning to glare at him. ‘You are such a – such a sneaksby.’

The insult slipped out before she could stop it – borrowed, as all her best insults were, from her grandfather’s lexicon, and long forbidden by her aunt – and Ashford raised his eyebrows.

‘I am not familiar with the term,’ he said coolly, ‘though I gather it to be a vulgarity.’

‘Well, someone had to tell you,’ Lydia said, turning her back to him and pretending to admire the flower display around the shop window.

‘We may be at odds, but that is no excuse for discourtesy,’ Ashford said, with infuriating primness. ‘May I remind you that cordiality is the bedrock of a civilized society?’

‘You may,’ Lydia said, flashing him a fierce look over her shoulder. ‘If I might then cordially invite you to cease making such an incredible ass of yourself?’

A passing promenading couple – overhearing Lydia’s less than ladylike words – cast them an affronted glance, and Ashford flushed in second-hand embarrassment.

‘Perhaps it is best we do not speak,’ he said, turning to look out onto the street.

‘Certainly,’ Lydia said – some of her cheer restored, for she felt she had won that battle, even if the war was looking rather risky.

She peered in through the shop window. From what she could tell, Mr Brandon and Miss Hesse appeared to be making a full tour of the shop, dawdling away the minutes in admiration and indecision. She huffed a sigh. They might be here for some time. She glanced up at Ashford, who was apparently ignoring her in order to watch a gaggle of children rush past in a close game of steeplechase.