Page 51 of The Muse of Maiden Lane

Teddy flicked her an amused glance. “You speak of young ladies like military generals at war.”

Stella half smiled. “I don’t expect it’s vastly different. Not if you consider it properly. After all, what is the London season if not a campaign?”

“By that measure, your brother’s future wife sounds like Wellington.”

“Which would have made me Napoleon, on the verge of being exiled to Elba.”

“He didn’t stay on Elba long.”

“Saint Helena, I meant,” she amended. “Luckily, with me out of the way, my brother won’t have proposed. My final defeat will have been averted. Or, at least, postponed for a time.”

Teddy’s brows notched with concern. “Is it that bad?”

Her smile dimmed. “Not entirely. Not yet, anyway. I still have my friends to sustain me, even if only through the post. And I haven’t yet lost my reputation. I needn’t retire from the field in complete disgrace.”

He frowned. Was that why she was so reluctant to risk her good name? Because she felt her reputation was all she had left? “Small comfort.”

“I take what I can find.” She gazed out at the dark, snow-covered landscape in silence for a moment. “Where will you live in London?”

“Somewhere that I can be entirely on my own. Away from family and well-meaning friends. Someplace I can be free to make my own decisions, even if they’re the wrong ones.”

“You desire to live alone?”

“As alone as I can be with a manservant to assist me and a cook-housekeeper to ensure my clothes are clean and my meals fit to eat.”

“Won’t you be lonely?”

“I shall be content,” he said. “More importantly, I’ll be productive. My work suffers from too much interruption. All this traveling to and from France, and the people stopping in to visit or to conduct business at the perfumery. I’d prefer to remain in London. To stay in one place long enough to form a circle of artistic friends. Perhaps submit a piece to the Royal Academy—if I can produce something worthy enough.”

“It sounds as though you have your future entirely planned out.”

“All that remains is to put that plan into action.”

“You’re a man,” she said. “There’s nothing preventing you.”

“Only duty and obligation.” He adjusted the reins, guiding the horse along the edge of the darkened woods. “I must first spend a few more months with my family. We’re traveling to Devon tomorrow. My brother-in-law’s childhood friend, Captain Thornhill, has a cliffside estate on the coast. Thornhill is married to Lady Helena, the sister of the Earl of Castleton. She and her husband expect us to stay for at least a month.”

Stella looked at him with interest. “Your brother-in-law has a varied acquaintance for a tradesman.”

“Because he’s friendly with the sister of an earl? Not really. Lord Castleton is something of a tradesman himself. He owns a tea plantation in Darjeeling where he spends the bulk of his time. The tea they produce there is almost as good as the blend we shared together that afternoon in the small parlor.”

She smiled again, remembering. “First flush Darjeeling. It was special, wasn’t it? Unquestionably the finest tea I’ve ever had the privilege to drink.”

“Darjeeling is often called the champagne of teas,” he said. “Indeed, some people might say that our first meal together consisted of cake and champagne.”

She cast him a speaking glance. “Some people might be foolish beyond permission.”

Teddy smiled at her as he slowed the horse to a walk. Her perfect oval face was aglow—pink cheeked and bright eyed—set in its frame of plum velvet and amethyst satin. It was likely only the cold that made her so radiant. Nevertheless…

A peculiar ache settled in his chest. His smile dimmed as he returned his attention to the road. How was it that every time he saw her, she became more beautiful? It was a bewildering sort of magic. One that was conjured by their growing friendship. The more he knew her, the lovelier she became. It was, he supposed, because she was a lovely person. He was only just beginning to realize how lovely.

And now it was too late. Tomorrow she would be gone.

A part of him was tempted to keep her out in the sleigh even longer in a feeble attempt to make up for it. To drive for another mile or more. But he’d already taken her too far. She had the remainder of the evening’s merriment still to get through. All the mulled wine and carols, and party games with her friends.

Teddy wouldn’t curtail her pleasure to bolster his own. She’d already missed too much of the party on account of her hair.

He turned the sleigh back toward the house. The horse had calmed significantly after its exercise. He was now content to walk, albeit with a spring in his step to be returning to the warmth of his stable. The bells on his harness jingled.