“But I suppose we will take pity on you,” Miss Barrows added with a cheeky smile, her red curls bouncing. “After all, how would it look—an entire box with only two people in it?”
The number of them required that two coaches be employed. Thankfully, the ladies had considered his invitation a foregone conclusion and had already called for theirs. By a stroke of fate—or sisterly conniving—Lily ended up in the other carriage with Miss Barrows and Miss Warrington.
Bradford rode with the other two Preston ladies, who sat across from him and unabashedly stared at him.
“Very kind of you to think of us,” Margaret said, getting comfortable in the padded seat.
“And it’s fortuitous that we have this time together to get to know one another,” Beatrice said, a saccharine smile on her lips.
“Veryfortuitous,” Margaret agreed. “Especially since you’ve visited our sister every day since the Season started and now she’s singled you out by agreeing to visit the theater with you.”
“Alone in an empty box, no less.”
Margaret nodded sagely. “And perhaps you didn’t think we noticed that she slipped out the other morning for a walk. Rumor has it she didn’t walk alone.”
“Not that her maid would say anything about it,” Beatrice said, still with that smile on her face. “Mabel is exceedingly loyal. But we have our ways of finding things out.”
“Indeed. For while she would never gossip about her mistress, neither would she ever tell a lie to the other ladies in the household.”
“Especially if she were backed into a corner in the stairwell by two of them at once.”
“Not that we would ever intentionally do such a thing.”
Beatrice gave a hum of agreement.
Bradford barely bit back a smile. “What is it you’d like to know, precisely?”
“Your intentions,” Margaret said, immediately.
“My intentions are wholly honorable.”
“So you intend to marry her?”
Bradford laughed. “I intend to get to know her.”
The sisters exchanged an inscrutable look.
“I suppose that tells us all we need to know about your fortune,” Margaret said.
His eyebrows jumped upon his forehead. “Pardon?”
“It must be secure if you’re actually trying to get toknowher.”
“I’m comfortable enough.”
Beatrice tsked. “We’ve been over this, Margaret. If he were after money, he wouldn’t be visitingLily.He’d be visiting that dreadful Miss Rullond.”
“I don’t think she’s dreadful. I think she’s dreadfully misunderstood.”
“Her visage says otherwise,” Beatrice grumbled.
“But I do suppose you have a point,” Margaret said, speaking to her sister as if Bradford weren’t within clear earshot. “If he were a fortune hunter, he would have chosen an easier target. The aforementioned Miss Rullond, or even me.”
Beatrice’s forehead wrinkled; she gave a mulish expression as if she were thinking of the perfect reply.
But Bradford had been waiting for an opening; with these two about, there was scant opportunity to speak. “Forgive me for pointing it out, but isn’t speaking of funds considered gauche?”
“Perhaps by those who’ve never been poor. But once you’ve experienced such a thing, it’s one of the first practical questions one wishes to know about a gentleman,” Margaret said.
