Chapter Sixteen
An Imprudent Ride in Hyde Park
Activity filled the rest of the afternoon, and Fiona found little time to dwell on her anxieties.
The influential patronesses of Almack’s, Lady Sally Jersey and her companion, Countess Lieven, were the first callers to arrive, carrying an invitation to the music recital at Mrs. Drummond-Burrell’s house.
“Do you sing or play an instrument, Miss Rafferty?” the countess asked in her distinctive accent. “I understand there is plenty of room for another performance.”
Before she could refuse, Lady Amelia intervened. “As a matter of fact, Fiona is very talented at the piano.”
“Indeed?” The countess leaned forward, her dark-brown eyes lively with curiosity. “We must add you to the program. You will play for us, won’t you, Miss Merrick?”
Fiona didn’t relish the intense scrutiny of performing for the ton, but it would please Lady Amelia and she had confidence in her ability under pressure.
A stream of young gentlemen followed after the ladies. Lady Amelia pretended to read a book in one corner, watching contentedly. Fiona supposed that a room of suitable bachelors was the ultimate success in London society.
There were the Barrett twins, both dressed in the height of fashion, sporting vividly striped waistcoats. She much preferred the earl’s understated yet elegant dress.
Quincy Barrett pulled aside his rather long coattails and sat beside Fiona.
“One would never guess it was your first ball,” he said admiringly. “I must confess, our dances together were the highlight of my evening.”
She tried to remember which dances, but pictured Richard instead. She hoped her face was not as flushed as her body.
They were soon joined by Augustus Redmond, a habitual devotee of Valentina’s, and Merit Fitzcombe, a young man of romantic dark good looks with a pronounced stutter, whom Lady Amelia had declared “eminently eligible.”
“I p-p-particularly enjoy listening to you s-s-peak, Miss R-Rafferty. Your lilt is ch-ch-charming…”
He was a rather quiet young man, but she enjoyed conversing with him about Ireland. The visitors who followed were far less interesting, and she hoped whatever hours were set aside for callers would soon expire.
She looked over to see Valentina with Lord Atterbury, noting that she listened attentively, asking for further details of this or that, and complimenting the viscount when possible, and altogether demonstrating the fine art of reeling in a marriage prospect.
William Denton was among the last to arrive, and their pleasant conversation on a wide variety of topics only confirmed her decision that he was an admirable suitor. Valentina wandered over to greet Sir William.
“I just invited Miss Rafferty for an excursion in the park,” he told her. “The weather proposes to be quite excellent. Won’t you join us? I know you are not one for riding, Miss Merrick, but we would carry a leisurely pace, I promise.”
Valentina agreed to come, and he left after setting a meeting at the Merrick stables tomorrow at noon. Afterward, she rose and drifted to the door rather despondently.
“I wonder why Denys did not come. He promised to do so. Does it seem like he’s avoiding us? He used to stop by nearly every day, but lately, we see so little of him.”
“Do you miss seeing Denys Spencer because he is a friend, or I wonder if there’s more to it?” Fiona teased.
Color rose to her cheeks. “Why would you think that? Denys has been Richard’s friend forever and he’s like a second son to Mama. I practically grew up with him.”
“Somehow, I can’t imagine someone as handsome as Denys Spencer in a brotherly role.”
“Well, he is nearly a brother,” Valentina snapped. “You have a day and a half to practice for the musicale…are you going to waste it talking nonsense?”
The next morning, as Fiona read, completely absorbed by Marianne’s heartbreak in Sense and Sensibility, Betty appeared to say Valentina was not feeling well.
She found her friend still abed, a linen handkerchief held to her nose as she coughed.
“How are you feeling?” Fiona sat on the side of the bed, taking in Valentina’s red-rimmed eyes with concern.
“Just a nasty head cold, I fear. I think if I spend the day resting, it will pass. But I am afraid riding today is out of the question for me. Perhaps you should send a note to Sir William that we cannot accompany him.”
“Why on earth? I’m quite looking forward to the outing.”
“It’s not quite the thing to ride with a single man and just a groom for company, Fiona.”
“Nonsense. Grosvenor Gate is scarcely a half mile. And no harm will come my way in William’s company.”
“You are being deliberately obtuse,” Valentina said crossly. “You know what I meant.”
Fiona adjusted the comforter falling down Valentina’s shoulder and put a hand on her friend’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. I shall have Betty bring up some tea with honey and lemon. And we shall open the window a bit…it is quite stuffy in here.”
Settling back among the pillows, Valentina sighed and pushed aside the long blonde braid falling over her shoulder. “Some hot tea sounds wonderful. I suppose it will do no good to object to your ride, as you do what you wish anyway.”
“Ah, now you know me! Mháthair despaired of my stubbornness, but my father always took it in stride.”
Valentina chuckled and gave another sneeze. “I will miss having visitors today,” she complained, wiping her nose. “It was such fun to see everyone.” She picked at the covers, avoiding Fiona’s eyes. “If Denys comes today, you will say I am sorry to have missed him?”
“I certainly shall,” she promised.
Valentina turned her head aside and sneezed again into the handkerchief.
“You should rest. I will send up the tea and visit later to tell you of my ride with Sir William.”
Betty hovered anxiously outside the door. “How is she, miss?”
“It’s not too bad, just a cold, I think. Could you have the housemaid bring hot tea with lemon and honey?”
“I’ll deliver it myself, and then come help you dress, miss. Will you be taking breakfast downstairs with Lady Amelia?”
“I think not; I prefer not to ride on a full stomach. Thank you, Betty.”
An hour later, clad in the well-cut black riding habit, she carried her gloves and hat downstairs. Glancing into the front parlor, she was relieved to find it empty. Lady Amelia would surely echo Valentina’s sentiments that riding with Sir William was not a good idea.
Using the mirror in the hallway, Fiona settled the fashionable hat on her head.
Her ebony hair was drawn back in a simple braid wound into a thick knot at the base of her neck.
She turned away, satisfied with her appearance, and pulled on the black kid riding gloves.
She looked up in surprise as Hansen’s tall figure loomed in the doorway.
“Goodness, you startled me. Hansen, I should return by three o’clock, but I couldn’t find Lady Amelia to inform her of my departure.”
“I believe she is upstairs in her rooms, Miss Rafferty. Should I let her know your plans?”
“Yes, thank you. Have we received many cards today?”
“Quite a few, miss. I believe Lady Amelia has declined most of them, except for some of her personal friends. I understand Miss Valentina is somewhat under the weather.”
She nodded. “Do you know when the earl is expected back?”
“Sometime Saturday afternoon, I believe.”
She hummed a jaunty tune on the way to the stables.
In the yard, a liveried young man sat astride a solid bay, and an older groom whom she did not recognize waited with Della. Fiona discovered his name was Cedric, and he was in charge during Jerome’s absence.
“Peter here will take good care of you, miss. He knows ’is way around the park just fine.”
She would rather not have had company at all but imagined it would be a horrid scandal if she didn’t.
She settled lightly in the saddle and took the reins from Cedric.
The crunch of hooves on the pebbled courtyard announced Sir William’s arrival.
His plain chestnut danced a bit as he pulled up and tipped his hat.
“Miss Rafferty. It’s a fine afternoon for a ride. May I offer my compliments? That’s quite a dashing hat. But where is Miss Merrick?”
“Valentina is under the weather and sends her regrets.”
He glanced uncertainly at the young groom. “I’m sorry that Miss Merrick cannot join us on such a beautiful day.” He turned his chestnut toward the gate, and she moved Della alongside him. Peter followed at a discreet distance.
When they reached Grosvenor Street and the ornately scrolled gate to Hyde Park, Fiona turned toward the young man.
“You may return, Peter. I am safe in Sir William’s company and will come to no harm.”
“B-but, miss,” he replied nervously. “Beggin’ yer pardon, but Mr. Cedric said I—”
“Miss Rafferty—” Sir William objected.
“I am asking you to go back to Merrick House, Peter,” she said. “I will deal with Mr. Cedric, rest assured.”
Sir William opened his mouth to protest, but she wheeled Della around and cantered through the gate onto the wide bridle path. She heard an oath and the tattoo of hoofbeats as he pursued her. Fiona rounded Serpentine Road and settled the horse to a walk.
Sir William pulled his chestnut up beside her. “Really, Miss Rafferty, must you put me in this position?” he said with a frown. “You know full well you should not be riding without a groom.”
“Oh, Sir William, not you too! How I detest lectures.” She flashed a brilliant smile, taking a page from Valentina’s book. “Forgive me. It’s a lovely day and I did not want someone hanging on our coattails.”
“Do not try to cajole me, Miss Rafferty. You knew exactly what you were doing,” he warned.
Impulsively, she laid a gloved hand on his arm. “Please,” she said warmly. “Let us enjoy our ride, Sir William.”
Before he could answer, Fiona noticed a familiar figure riding up to them. Of course, it was Mrs. Davenport. She was followed by a tall brunette on a roan horse and a liveried groom.
She dropped her hand immediately, but she was sure the exchange had been seen.