Chapter 27

27

T ricia reread the story of Lady Portia and then tossed the papers back into her valise.

They'd been titillating, to be sure, and even though she did have two suitors, Lord Polk and Mr. Jameson, Tricia could not imagine herself in Lady Portia's shoes with both of those men.

No.

She wanted only Thomas.

There was no need to have two lovers when you could have the man of your dreams.

Her mother and Katrina had already descended. Tricia had sneaked back into her room to reread the latest episode of Lady Portia's exploits after dressing.

The story would continue, of course, but Patricia had no more interest in reading it, even if Sarah was able to procure more issues.

Tricia checked her face in the looking glass, pinched her cheeks, smoothed out her hair, and left her bedchamber to descend.

Several ladies sat in the parlor, including her mother and Rose. Katrina was no doubt in a lesson or some other activity with the younger children.

"Tricia, darling," Lady Clementine said, patting the seat beside her. "Do come join us."

"Of course, Mummy." Tricia began walking toward her mother when?—

"Good morning, Lady Patricia."

She turned and looked over her shoulder as Lord Polk entered the parlor.

"Lord Polk," she said politely with a short curtsy.

Lord Polk walked swiftly toward her. "I was wondering if you might accompany me on a stroll about the grounds." He looked at Lady Clementine. "If your lovely mother would join us, that is."

Lady Clementine rose. "I can think of nothing I might like better than a stroll."

"Perfect," Lord Polk held out his arm to Tricia.

She took it and left the parlor with Lord Polk, her mother walking behind them.

She felt every eye on her.

Lord Polk was handsome, and he had asked her on a stroll.

She was happy to do it, if only to get her mind off Thomas.

Lady Clementine stayed a few feet behind them so Lord Polk and Tricia could talk.

"It is a beautiful morning," Tricia said.

"It is," Polk agreed, "but I fear nothing about this gorgeous landscape is as beautiful as you are."

Tricia's cheeks warmed a bit, even though the day was quite brisk. It was nice to be complimented. Even if the compliment wasn't coming from the man she adored.

"The azaleas are quite splendid this year, don't you think?" Polk gestured towards the vibrant bushes lining the pathway.

"They are, indeed. The gardeners have outdone themselves." Tricia had no idea what the gardeners had done. Though she did appreciate the vibrant blooms, and looking at them allowed her to momentarily escape from the conversation.

"Your mother mentioned you have quite a hand in the garden yourself," Polk continued.

Tricia smiled slightly, more out of amusement than politeness. When did Polk speak to her mother? And why would her mother say Tricia was handy in the garden? Surely, she had raked and hoed vegetables until her fingers were calloused and bleeding during their years of tenancy on the Lybrook estate. But why on earth would Mummy make it sound like she knew an azalea from a dandelion? She wasn't sure what to say, so she settled on, "I do enjoy the garden, though I cannot claim much credit. My contributions are limited to occasional suggestions and much admiration."

Polk chuckled. "Humility is a virtue, Lady Patricia. And speaking of virtues, have you read the latest serialized novel in The Strand ? It's quite captivating."

Tricia couldn't hold back her chuckle. She'd indeed recently read a serialized story, but it was far from The Strand . "I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure, my lord."

"I see," Polk said. "Perhaps you prefer something a bit more challenging?"

"Perhaps," Tricia said, trying her best not to burst into a fit of laughter. The Ruby could hardly be called challenging, but Tricia did enjoy a good novel.

As they circled back toward the house, Tricia felt a subtle relief. Lord Polk was perfectly pleasant, but his attempts at engaging her interests had fallen somewhat flat. She was thankful for her mother's presence, a welcome barrier against any need for deeper engagement.

"Thank you for the walk, my lord," Tricia said as they neared the terrace. "I trust you will enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you, my lady. I indeed hope to," he replied.

The stroll had been amenable, though Patricia was just as glad it was over. When Polk left her and Lady Clementine at the door, he bowed, removing his hat.

"Tonight is the second ball of the house party," Lord Polk said. "I do hope you'll save me a dance, Lady Patricia."

Tricia bowed her head. "Of course, my lord. It would be my honor."

Lord Polk was a fine dancer. As was Mr. Jameson. Thomas was fine at many other things, but she knew nothing of his dancing skills. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She had seen him dancing with every other woman but her at the ball, and he had seemed quite proficient.

"Come, Tricia," Lady Clementine said, "it will be time for luncheon soon."

Tricia was already a bit hungry.

"Do you fancy that gentleman?" her mother asked her as they walked up the stairs to get cleaned up for luncheon.

Tricia sighed. "Not really."

"Good," her mother said. "He's a nice-looking young man, and I'm sure he has an allowance from his father's estate, but I cannot get past the fact that he and that cousin of Thomas's tried to get you to go on a stroll with the both of them last evening. It was so improper."

Tricia resisted rolling her eyes. "Yes, Mummy. I know what you think of the matter."

Lady Clementine raised an eyebrow. "You should have thought the same thing, Tricia."

Indeed, she did. But she could hardly tell her mother that she had been reading The Perils of Portia in The Ruby , and that Portia herself had two lovers, so Tricia was a bit curious. Not so much about being with two men at the same time, but perhaps about strolling with them, at least. Having two men attending her.

It would have been…

Blimey, it would have been nothing.

Because neither of those men were Thomas.

* * *

Lily sat straight up, holding back a yawn. She was having an early lunch with Viscountess Polk.

Lady Polk was going on and on about some such thing. Her needlepoint craft, her knitting. Her newest piece on the pianoforte.

Which was a laugh, of course, because the viscountess could not play the pianoforte worth a damn.

Lily had grown up with Rose, who had quite a talent for the instrument. When she and Daniel visited the Polk Estate, she had to keep from wincing while the viscountess entertained them on the pianoforte.

What Lily really needed was to get her to drink a bit of wine.

In vino veritas and all.

But that couldn't happen until the dinner hour, and Lily would be seated at the head table with Daniel.

So she did something wicked.

She pulled a small flat flask out of her reticule.

It was filled with a lovely brandy. Lily didn't indulge a lot, but she enjoyed a good brandy with Daniel every now and then.

"What is that, Your Grace?" the viscountess queried.

"Would you care for a nip?" Lily poured a bit of the amber liquid into her water glass.

The viscountess raised her eyebrows. "Oh my, I shouldn't. Hawthorne would have a fit."

Lily smiled deviously. "Viscountess, I don't believe Hawthorne is here."

A small smile cracked the viscountess's lips. "'Tis true."

Lily poured a bit more brandy into the viscountess's glass. "That's a lovely brooch you're wearing, my lady. Do tell me about it."