Page 102 of Notorious

Drusilla was relieved to change the subject, not sure she could take too many more revelations without giving in to her baser emotions. “I shall see you at breakfast?” she asked for lack of anything better to say.

“Do you wish to join us?”

“I have no horse.”

“My stepfather keeps mounts for all three of my sisters and my mother. Melissa is close to your height. I will send word to have her mare made ready. Can you be dressed in an hour?”

* * *

Drusilla was riding between her gloriously beautiful husband and the outrageously garbed Viscount Byer.

“You have a good seat, Mrs. Marlington,” Byer told her.

“And you, sir, are an excellent liar.”

He grinned, his handsome face lighting up. “Not good enough, it would seem. Are you looking forward to going to the country at the end of the Season?”

“Yes, I am.” Relieved, was more like it. “And what will you be doing this summer, my lord?”

“I will be staying at my family seat for the first time in many years.” His normally lazy expression was replaced by pensiveness. She knew he’d lost his brothers in rather horrifying succession. She also knew he was in dire straits financially. Even so, she’d never seen him pursue any heiresses, not even the delectable Miss Kittridge. Although it was difficult to see past his foppish clothing and jocular façade, she suspected he was more than half in love with Eva, who, of course, did not view him—or anyone else—in a romantic light. Poor Lord Byer.

“Hard to imagine you a farmer, Tommy,” Eva said. She’d smiled at Drusilla this morning, seeming almost happy to see her. Drusilla had been ridiculously relieved. She had so very few close companions, and Eva was her dearest friend in the world.

Lord Byer gave Eva a mock haughty look. “What? Can’t imagine me as king of my demesne?”

“No, more like court jester.”

The conversation devolved into teasing and taunting until they were almost back to the park gates. Eva rode up between Drusilla and Byer.

“Excuse me,” Byer said as Eva’s horse shoved his aside. “Am I in your way?”

“Yes. Go away. I wish to talk to my sister.”

“Come on, Tommy,” Gabriel said, laughing. “You know better than to get in Evil’s way.”

“I’m sorry,” Eva said, once the men were far enough ahead so that they couldn’t hear.

Drusilla didn’t need an explanation. “Me too.”

“Friends again?” Eva asked, her eyebrows raised high.

“I never wasn’t your friend, Eva.”

“Good. I hated not talking to you—especially since I will be leaving London before the end of the Season.”

“You will? Where are you going?”

“Mel keeps begging me to come to stay with her at Lily Repton’s.” She gave a sudden grin. “She says they’ve got a lovely goer that Lily’s brother is training.”

By Mel, Eva meant Melissa, the youngest—and most reserved—of her two sisters. Lady Melissa was only seventeen and not yet out. Drusilla knew the girl was not looking forward to her Season. Although nobody had ever said the words out loud, it was obvious Melissa was not Lord Exley’s blood relative. She was taller than Drusilla, with fair, sandy hair and broad sunny features that were nothing like either the marquess or her two sisters. The only characteristic she’d inherited from a mother who was reputed to be the beauty of her age were her unusual blue-violet eyes. Well, and possibly a strain of madness.

“Ahh, now I know the real reason you are deserting London: for a horse.”

“Guilty as charged.” Eva hesitated, her smile draining away. “But I also miss Mel. She is not happy about the approach of her eighteenth birthday. I hope to reassure her—to tell her that a Season is not nearly as dreadful as we’d both feared.”

Drusilla’s eyebrows rose. “Really? I never believed I would hear such words from you.”

“Well, it is boring and tedious and annoying, but not dreadful.” She cut Drusilla a look that was almost shy. “Especially not if you’ve a friend to endure it with you.”