Page 16 of Her Unsuitable Match

Sensing the precariousness of staying on topic, Myles hurried to speak before his friend could respond. “An article in the paper and a rude peeress despising independence in younger women don’t seem like enough to cause an issue or take away from what the Gillensfords are trying to accomplish.”

“One would think.” Moreton glared mockingly at his wife. “Do tell us, my darling, how any of this puts plans for the hospital in shadow?”

“The article that appeared today would explain it best.” She rose, making her husband’s arm drop suddenly, and went to a table near the window. She opened a drawer and pulled out a folded pamphlet. “This appeared in one of those little things children sell on the corner. It’s one of those satirical drawings. What does one call them, Joshua?”

“Comical caricature, or something.” Moreton folded his arms and made eye contact with Myles. “I’ve heard people in the business are calling them cartoons now. That will never catch on. Made-up words never do.”

“It’s French, isn’t it?” Emmeline muttered, then dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. She turned the pages of the newspaper as she walked toward Myles. “Ah-ha. Here it is. Midway down the page, on the left.” She handed the newssheet to Myles and tapped the spot.

Taking the paper, Myles rose and stood closer to the hearth and a lamp upon the mantel. Having only one good eye, and standing in the semi-dark room, conditions were not favorable for reading. He stared hard at the paper until the words came into focus, then read aloud. “‘Readers may find it interesting that Lady P. of last week’s scandal is yet refusing the suit of the most eligible Lord W., though all know it is only a matter of time before she capitulates for the good of her reputation and her family’s future endeavors.’” He folded the offending piece of writing in half. “They mean the hospital, surely.”

“That is how I interpreted it.” Emmeline reseated herself beside her husband and folded her hands in her lap. “The poor girl. The snobs of Society would love to see her capitulate, so they can congratulate themselves by saying ‘I told you this is how it would end.’ And if whomever is shaming Lady Philippa tries to use her supposed lack of virtue as a reason to withdraw support from the Gillensfords…”

“Her supposed disregard of honorable behavior will reflect badly upon her brother and sister-in-law.” Myles cast the paper into another chair, glowering at it. “This is yet another example of why, by principle, I avoid people entirely. Surely this whole ridiculous drama will be forgotten in a week.”

“Unlikely, given that Lady Fredericka and her friends are discussing little else.” Emmeline looked up at her husband. “I wish I knew how to help. Mrs. Gillensford must be at her wit’s end, with her horrid mother-in-law and Lady Philippa living beneath her roof at this moment. I imagine there isn’t a great deal of peace in that household.”

Myles said nothing, but retook his seat, and soon enough the couple across from him were speaking on other matters. And flirting rather outrageously, considering he was still present. But he settled in, content to remain in their company for an hour more before returning to his rented rooms.

When he turned in that evening, he thought more about Lady Philippa’s predicament. The night of the ball, he’d left the hotel’s grand halls for the cool air of the gardens. He’d had no thought of playing rescuer to anyone, let alone the sister of the host and hostess. Yet he had been there, near the fountain, in exactly the right place to hear the dishonorable Lord Walter threaten a woman. A woman whose identity he did not even know until he had pulled her from the darkness between the hedges.

Lady Philippa had appeared shocked to see him. And exceedingly relieved. Was there more he could have done to help preserve her reputation? They had only encountered a few people on their way back into the ballroom, and Lady Philippa had made a point of gaining their attention. Someone had spread rumors they knew to be false, but why? To sully the good name of a woman and her family? Or, more likely, to find some way to turn the situation to their advantage.

Lord Walter himself became suspect.

Sleep did not come at once that night. When he finally drifted off into a fitful slumber, Myles was as disgusted with High Society as ever. The haute ton cared for nothing and no one, except when it came to climbing higher upon their pile of wealth and self-importance.

Upon waking the next morning, Myles prepared himself for the day as usual. He dressed, made a few notations in his diary, and then went out in search of breakfast at his usual spot. His mind never strayed far from Lady Philippa’s dilemma, and he searched his paper with an eye for the small squares of ink devoted to sharing the on-dits of Society.

He grew hopeful until he found a new entry that had to have something to do with Lady Philippa. It is rumored that a certain sought-after young lady will not appear at any more of this Season’s events, marred as her reputation has become through unscrupulous flirtations.

Who takes joy in writing such drivel? Myles glared at the paper and laid it down in an empty chair at his table. The sort of person delighting in Lady Philippa’s circumstances, and trying to spin a story from whatever hardship the lady faced, belonged in polite Society no more than a rabid cur.

Myles went back to his breakfast, trying to enjoy the now-cold sausages and beans. Today, the cook had burned the toast rather than the sausage. An interesting change.

The bell over the door jangled, the sound familiar to him enough that he never bothered checking to see which regular had entered the cafe. Even if that did make it easier for Moreton to creep up on him. When the chair directly across from him scraped against the floor, Myles didn’t even look up.

“If Emmeline has sent you to spy upon me again, I beg you inform her that I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

“One would hope, given your age.”

The voice that answered was not at all the one he expected. He immediately stood up, nearly knocking his chair backward as it made a horrible screeching noise sliding across the floor. “Lady Philippa.” He bowed, then realized he still held a fork in one hand. He dropped it on his plate. “I did not see you come inside.”

Her dark brown eyes gleamed with good humor, and the curve of her lips softened. She wore a pale green gown and jacket with epaulets, and a small tricorn hat pinned atop her head at a jaunty angle. As though the military style were a fashion one could command rather than a necessary uniform. Of course, she certainly looked far better than most he had seen don such a style.

“I am sorry to have disturbed your meal. I thought I might join you, if you do not mind. There is something I should very much like to discuss with you.” She looked over her shoulder and gestured. A young woman dressed in darker clothing and a modest straw bonnet curtsied, then withdrew to another corner of the cafe. “My maid will likely welcome a respite from following me all over Town.”

Then Lady Philippa sat down, not waiting for him to get her chair or accept her offer of companionship. He looked to where the proprietor of the cafe stood, eyes wide and staring at the most finely dressed person who had ever entered his establishment.

“Would you, er, care for something to drink, my lady? Or eat?” Myles offered.

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.” She daintily removed her gloves and laid them atop each other on the worn blue tablecloth.

Myles made eye contact with the proprietor again and mouthed the word tea. The aproned man nodded quickly and disappeared through the doors to his kitchen. The confused fellow likely didn’t have any idea how to serve someone so obviously above his own class.

“Lady Philippa.” Myles reached behind him to drag his chair forward again, then sat down with some measure of decorum. “I cannot remember ever seeing you in this establishment before.”

She folded her hands before her on the table. “I have never been here before.” She glanced around the room, then to the large window near them. “I understand you frequent this cafe.”