Chapter Four #3
Gwendolyn glowered at the retreating open carriage. “Horrid, vulgar, old gossip,” she muttered.
*
Lord Roland Montgomery patted the neck of his grey mare.
“Patience, Queen Mab, we’ll take a gallop later.
” It was not difficult to spot Gwendolyn Burroughs as she strolled insouciantly along Rotten Row beside Grace Blythe.
He raised an eyebrow at her elaborate attempt to look like the most demure and pious young lady ever to grace the London scene and when Lady Murgatroyd stopped alongside the girl, he edged close enough to shamelessly eavesdrop, excusing himself by arguing that anything said in a public space could easily be overheard by anyone near enough to listen, and Lady Murgatroyd had certainly not moderated her tones.
In fact, a large number of people had slowed their pace so they could discover more about the scandal that was already sizzling through the belle monde.
Accounts of Lady Murgatroyd’s speech would be shared at dinner parties and in the corridors of the busiest theaters before the evening was over.
Montgomery nodded when Lady Murgatroyd expressed her shock at finding the disgraced girl brazenly walking in the park at the busiest social hour.
He partly agreed with the fussily dressed dowager.
He too had expected Gwendolyn to keep a low profile and reflect on the consequences of her carelessness rather than parading herself through the park and drawing more attention that would keep the flames of gossip alive.
But he gritted his teeth as Lady Murgatroyd, one of the most outspoken and outrageous ladies of the ton, publicly berated Gwendolyn, drawing more attention to her than her stroll with Grace Blythe could.
Gwendolyn turned to greet her relative, and Roland could clearly see the haughty tilt of her chin and the firmness around her mouth.
He was not close enough to see the expression in her eyes, but her quiet dignity and refusal to be drawn into a public argument were admirable. He surprised himself with that thought.
She was an enigma. Never before had a woman fascinated and intrigued him as she did.
In spite of her careless morals, he couldn’t help thinking that Miss Burroughs was better company than most of the ladies he encountered at the endless round of dinners and dances gentlemen of society were expected to attend so they could select a suitable wife.
He saw Gwendolyn draw in a deep breath before she quietly introduced her walking companion to Lady Murgatroyd. Montgomery doubted that many of the eager scandalmongers listening in would mention the dignity Gwendolyn displayed as she faced the sententious old meddler.
His horse nickered lightly and, deciding that he had heard enough, he guided Queen Mab into a gentle walk, but slowed again when Major Enderby joined the party of ladies.
Roland stiffened as a surge of jealousy whipped through his heart when the major stared for a long moment at Gwendolyn before offering his arm to Miss Blythe.
The young woman blushed prettily as she placed her hand gently on her affianced’s arm but Gwendolyn firmly folded her hands in front of her, refusing to take the major’s other arm.
Montgomery was foolishly pleased by this and watched them for several moments as the three resumed their walk.
Grace seemed to have lost her ability to utter even a single word and most of the labored conversation was undertaken by the major and a suddenly reticent Gwendolyn.
Roland flicked the reins of his horse and guided her along a less fashionable path away from the crowds.
A chuckle and the jangle of a horse’s reins brought him to a halt yet again.
Robert rode up beside him, pulling sharply at his mare’s head when she tried to nip Queen Mab.
Roland eyed the horse astutely and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
His cousin fancied himself as an expert of horse flesh but was often fooled into buying showy horses rather than sound ones.
Much like his choice in women, Roland thought wryly.
Robert was oblivious to the tightness at the corners of Montgomery’s mouth. “Now I understand!” he declared triumphantly. “You attempted to warn me off Miss Burroughs because you have fallen for her incomparable charms.” His laugh grated like sandpaper against Montgomery’s ears.
Roland tightened his hold on Queen Mab’s reins. “You mistake my interest in the consequences of last night’s scandal for attraction to the girl at the center of the trouble, of which, I might remind you, you are an integral part.”
Robert laughed and pointed his crop at Roland. “You haven’t taken your eyes off her and you looked so fierce when Enderby approached that I thought you were going to challenge him to a duel.”
Montgomery flicked his reins and Queen Mab moved eagerly forward.
Robert, after some tugging at the reins of his own horse, followed.
“Of course, Miss Blythe would be much more suitable for you. Oh, Roly, did you see how sweet Miss Bonnie looked in her pink bonnet? Is she not the most charming, most delightful creature ever to grace society?”
Roland eased Queen Mab into a trot. “I was seated at the same table as the Miss Blythes last night and saw nothing remarkable in either of them. They are sweet girls but the elder one is too quiet and placid and the younger is nothing more than a schoolgirl allowed to make an excursion into the world of grown-ups.” He eyed his heir derisively.
“Perhaps that is why you are so attracted to her.”
His cousin drew his shoulders back indignantly and tightened his grip on his reins, almost causing his horse to bolt. “You are very dismissive of both her and me.”
Roland relented slightly. “You are very close in age, she is almost out of the schoolroom and you have just come down from Oxford. She has not yet made a mark on society and you do not have to fight off a pack of admirers to get near to her.”
“You are most unkind in your assessment of her, and of me. But I will make allowances because at your age. It must be confusing to find yourself caught up in the kind of emotional fervor you condemn and despise, especially after never having experienced the fever of passion before.”
Roland laughed. “Touché. I can see that you will not believe that I have no interest in any young woman, especially Miss Burroughs. At some point, I suppose, I will need to find a wife, before I am too old and decrepit to father an heir.” He began to pull away from Robert.
“Of course, if I don’t, you will inherit my title and estates.
I do hope that nothing happens to me before you have learned some sense. ”
“I am not likely ever to be any more sensible than I am right now.” Robert retorted.
“No, probably not, more’s the pity. But we shall see what happens. If I were a betting man, I would say the end of the Season will see us both still unattached, with you hankering after a new beauty while I return to the solitude of my pipe and slippers in the remote hills of Cumbria.”