“Heavens, no,” Lady Wilton replied. “You do not want an old woman coming along. Go and enjoy yourselves, and I expect a full report tomorrow.”
“You are not old,” Theodosia protested.
With a grin, Lady Wilton said, “I knew I liked you.”
Lord Wilton stepped to his mother’s side. “Do not waste your breath, Miss Theodosia. My mother is most insistent that she remain home.”
“It is true,” Lady Wilton agreed. “I prefer going to bed at a reasonable hour and not staying up until the sun rises.”
Just then, the butler stepped forward. “The coach is waiting, my lord.”
Theodosia glanced at her gown. “I still need to change. I hope that won’t delay you.”
“Take all the time you need,” Lord Wilton encouraged.
“Thank you, my lord,” Theodosia said, holding his gaze longer than what would be considered proper.
Olivia broke the moment by tugging lightly on Theodosia’s arm. “Come,” she urged. “Let us change. We shall be down shortly.”
They ascended the staircase together, their footsteps muffled against the carpet runner. Once they reached the upper landing, Olivia leaned in, her tone hushed but pointed. “Do you wish to explain what that was about?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Olivia gave her a look of long-suffering incredulity. “Do not pretend ignorance. That exchange between you and Richard. You looked at each other as if no one else existed in the world.”
“We are merely friends,” Theodosia replied, though her voice lacked conviction.
Olivia snorted. “Oh, is that why he allowed you to review his accounts? Because I have been trying to peek at his ledgers for years and he guards them more fiercely than a dragon protects its hoard.”
“I offered my assistance,” Theodosia said. “And he accepted. It was nothing more than that.”
“Mmm,” Olivia murmured, clearly unconvinced. “And the matter with Mr. Benson? I heard whispers from below stairs that you uncovered his embezzlement.”
“It’s true.”
Olivia stopped just shy of Theodosia’s chamber door and asked, “So my brother is indebted to you?”
“Not in the slightest,” Theodosia replied. “I was simply helping him. He finds figures troublesome.”
“As do I,” Olivia muttered as she pushed open the door and stepped inside ahead of her. “You should wear the new blue gown tonight—the one Richard said you’d look lovely in.” Her grin turned mischievous. “You know the one.”
“You heard that?”
Olivia’s smile widened. “The servants hear everything,and they are far from tight-lipped. You would be wise to remember that.”
Inside, Mary was busily straightening the dressing table, arranging hairbrushes and ribbon spools with practiced efficiency. She turned as they entered and gave a knowing smile.
“I understand we’ve only a short time to prepare for Vauxhall Gardens,” she said, already eyeing Theodosia’s hair with a critical gleam. “We must make haste.”
Olivia took a step back. “I shall leave you in Mary’s capable hands while I see to my own gown. Do try not to keep Richard waiting too long since he gets awfully cross when women dawdle.”
With a teasing wink, she exited, leaving Theodosia alone with her maid.
Mary patted the back of the dressing chair. “Let’s begin by arranging your hair into something more elegant. Perhaps a coiled chignon with a few artful curls?”
Theodosia lowered herself into the chair. “Whatever you think best.”
After Mary gently removed the final pin from Theodosia’s hair, setting it aside in a tidy row upon the dressing table, she began brushing through the dark strands. “I’ve never been to Vauxhall Gardens before. I’ve heard it’s like stepping into a dream.”
