Once Upon a Maiden Lane (Maiden Lane #12.5)(23)

“I’m terribly sorry to bring the lesson to an end,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, “but I think it time I take my fiancée on a turn about Hyde Park.”

Mary shot a smile at him in relief.

Mr. Lafitte scowled. “Lady Cecilia’s dancing will suffer, I think, if you do this, my lord.”

“Nonetheless.” Lord Blackwell addressed Mary as he bowed over her hand. “Even the most dedicated of dancers must refresh themselves now and again.”

“A-hem.” The marchioness cleared her throat from the doorway. “What’s this?”

“My lady.” Lord Blackwell bowed to the elderly lady. “I’m about to take Lady Cecilia for a ride around the park.”

“The gel needs her lessons,” the marchioness said, scowling.

“Of course,” the viscount replied smoothly. “And she also needs to be seen in my company so that society knows that I’m pleased with this match. A jaunt in the park does just that.”

Mary held her breath, glancing between Lord Blackwell and the marchioness.

The old lady nodded abruptly. “I’m glad to see that you’re not just a pretty face, my lord. Take my granddaughter out to be seen, then. I shall send for her maid to accompany you.”

Lord Blackwell grinned. “I thank you most kindly, my lady.”

He led Mary past the marchioness, who humphed as they went by.

“Thank you,” Mary said as they made the outer hall and she was sure they were no longer in the marchioness’s hearing. “I think my head must be spinning from all that pacing around and around.”

“You mean you didn’t enjoy dancing with me?” the viscount asked as he led her downstairs. He made a comically scandalized face.

Mary bit back a smile. The thing was, she had enjoyed being with him, if not the dancing itself. Strange to think that only days ago she’d judged this man by his handsome face.

She shook her head, musing. “It seems quite silly that dancing is so important to be a lady.”

“Is it?” he asked as they made the lower floor. “I think my sisters enjoy dancing—though perhaps mostly as an opportunity to flirt with gentlemen.”

Mary looked at him curiously. “You haven’t told me very much about your sisters.”

“Good Lord, I haven’t?” he said. “Let me rectify my lapse at once. I have two sisters, both younger: Kate and Becca. You’ll meet them when you come for tea, along with my mother and father.”

“Oh,” she said, rather daunted.

He seemed to sense her distress, for he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “But you needn’t worry about sisters and meeting new people right now. I aim to spirit you away to enjoy the rest of the day, and that’s what I’m going to do. You need only sit and compliment me on my skillful driving.”

“But what if it isn’t?” she asked with grave interest.

It was his turn to arch an eyebrow. “Believe me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem. I’m quite experienced in handling spirited mares.”

“Indeed?” She fought to keep from laughing. “I do hope that wasn’t a rather clumsy double entendre.”

“Clumsy?” He winced comically. “No, no, not at all.”

Mary was giggling softly when they made the entry hall. Lane was waiting for them, a shawl over her shoulders and a bonnet on her head.

Of course. Mary was a lady now and couldn’t venture out alone with a man. Which was rather ironic, she reflected as she donned her own bonnet with Lane’s help. She’d spent all her life walking the streets of London alone with no one caring. She’d been only a maidservant, after all. But now suddenly all proprieties must be observed.

“Shall we?” Lord Blackwell held open the door. “I’ve a new team of horses and I’m inordinately proud of them, I’m afraid.”

It was a sunny autumn day. She inhaled the slightly brisk air and turned to smile at him as he helped her into his open carriage. They sat side by side in front, and Lane sat behind, facing backward.

“I think it’s your turn now to ask a question,” Mary said as he chirruped to the horses. The animals were very beautiful—a perfectly matched bay pair.

The reins were threaded through his gloved fingers, and he did handle the two horses very well.

“Hmm.” He kept his eyes on the horses as he spoke. “Well, then, did you have a pet as a girl?”

“A lapdog, d’you mean?” she asked, amused.

He cast a swift glance at her. “Yes.”

“No.” She shook her head and said gently, “I grew up in an orphanage, remember. We didn’t have our own pets. There was a cat who lived there and caught the mice—his name was Soot. Just before I left the home a young girl came who had a little white dog that was her companion. The dog’s name was Dodo. An exception was made for her, but Dodo wasn’t mine. And of course I wasn’t allowed a pet as a maidservant.”

He nodded, his brows drawn together. “I should’ve realized.”

She glanced at him. “Why? You’ve never been a servant.”

“But they’re all around me—us. It’s not as if I haven’t had cause to see what a maidservant’s life is like.”