"You do not need my permission for that," she said.
"True," he conceded."But it is pleasant to have."
They reached the end of the path.Ahead, the drive curved back toward the carriages.
Esme paused, looking out over the water.
"Do you ever wish," she said softly, "that you could simply...step off the path?"
He followed her gaze."Frequently."
"And yet," she said, "here we are, walking where everyone expects."
"For now," he said."But paths are more interesting when one knows where they lead."
She looked at him."You are a very bad influence, Lord Redford."
"I am an excellent influence," he corrected."Just not on the things your brother values."
Her smile was small, but real."That may be the same thing."
From behind them, Genny called Esme's name, waving both arms while Mother beckoned with her parasol.
Duty tugged, habit followed.
Esme drew a sharp breath.
"I must go," she said.
"Of course," he replied."We cannot have Lady Woodmere suspecting that fresh air leads to rebellion.She would have the Park barricaded at once."
She hesitated, then smiled."Thank you, for...breathing room."
Hebowed."Anytime, Lady Esme.The Mutual Mischief Society remains at your service."
As she returned to the carriage, she felt his gaze.She fairly skipped in delight at the knowledge of him watching her.
Harrison would fume.Mother would scheme.And Watford?He would reappear with opinions.
But somewhere between Woodmere House and Hyde Park, Esme discovered that she did not have to walk the Season's path entirely alone.
And that, she thought, slipping Genny's arm through hers and ignoring her brother's glare, was most welcome.
Chapter3
Esme had not meant to enjoy herself.Yet as the Woodmere carriage rattled from Hyde Park toward Grosvenor Square, she felt suspiciously light.
By the next morning, propriety had returned.
"Watford was distant," the Viscountess of Woodmere declared."Quite distant.Did you notice, Harrison?"
Harrison did not look up from his correspondence."He spoke to Esme only twice by the Serpentine," he said."And once was about ducks."
Esme hesitated over her marmalade."They are interesting birds."
"Not as husbands," her mother said."They waddle."
Esme bit the inside of her cheek."So do some peers."
