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“We’ll look after you,” his sister promised, resting her head upon his shoulder. “Harold and I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Max, I promise.”
The spring morning was clear apart from the usual foggy haze that hung over London, the product of its coal fires and factories. Once Marietta and Lil had reached Vauxhall Bridge the air seemed fresher. Below the nine cast-iron arches, the Thames was wide and brown and busy, with lighters and boatmen and the larger barges, all plying their trade.
Lil, who had been hurrying along in Marietta’s wake, complaining that Vivianna should not have sent her out when Lil needed to be in Berkley Square to help with the baby, stopped and stared in delight.
“Oh, but this is pretty!”
“There you are then,” Marietta said. “Now, do come on, Lil. I want to get to Vauxhall Gardens before dark.”
Lil’s smile gave way to a frown. “Why couldn’t we have taken a hackney, miss? Me feet are killing me.”
“That’s because you’re wearing those half-boots you bought at the warehouse in Regent Street. You know they’re too small for you.”
Lil tossed her head. “I want to look me best, miss. Nothing wrong in that.”
Marietta smiled. “Then stop complaining, Lil, the walk will do you good. I believe you’ve grown very lazy living here in London. You’ve forgotten what it’s like at Greentree Manor, where you can walk for miles and miles and never see a single soul.”
“I was born in London,” Lil retorted, and tugged at her gloves, straightening the wrinkles from the fingers.
“Then it must be nice to be home,” she said levelly, continuing on over the bridge towards the gardens on the other side. She could see the gleaming pavilions above the trees and her heart lifted—Vauxhall, which had grown a little shabby over the years, had been recently refurbished. “Look,” she said, pointing. “Will we stroll down the Grand Walk, Lil? Or perhaps we can lose ourselves in the Dark Walk. At one time that was closed down, you know, the Dark Walk, because that was where so many ladies lost their virtue.”
Marietta did not say it aloud but the thought of meeting a mysterious gentleman in one of those isolated avenues, echoing with the sighs and whispers of lovers down the centuries, had always appealed to her.
Lil barely glanced up. Her fair hair was plaited and fastened neatly on her crown, and her small ears were pink, as if, thought Marietta, she scrubbed them clean every morning.
“London wasn’t so good to me,” Lil said at last, and closed her lips tight, as if she had no intention of saying anything more on the subject.
Marietta did not know a great deal about Lil’s past, apart from the fact that Vivianna had found her in York and insisted she be given a home at Greentree Manor, to which Lady Greentree had acceded. Lil had been a fixture there ever since. That she had had an unhappy childhood was perhaps not surprising, and it explained her single-minded determination to adhere to the rules. Marietta sensed that Lil believed that, if she was very, very good and never stepped outside the boundaries, then nothing bad could ever happen to her again.
Perhaps nothing bad would, but in Marietta’s opinion such a life must be very rigid and tedious. Surely part of the excitement and pleasure in this world came from taking the occasional risks, even small ones. Lil probably saw this visit to Vauxhall Gardens as overstepping her personal mark.
Marietta saw it as an adventure.
Something large and globular was now visible through the trees in front of them—Marietta recognized Mr. Keith’s gas balloon. She laughed as Lil’s eyes grew big at the sight of it. “Gawd!” the maid gasped. “Would you look at that, miss! It’s one of them balloons.”
“Haven’t you ever seen a gas balloon before, Lil?”
Lil shook her head, her eyes still firmly fixed on the balloon as it swayed on its moorings. “It don’t seem possible,” she said, her hands strangling her drawstring bag. “Won’t it fall down?”
“Not at all. In fact when the ballast is thrown out it will go much higher.”
“How high?”
“Until London seems tiny beneath you.”
Lil gave her a suddenly suspicious glance, and Marietta remembered Lil didn’t know she had been up in the balloon herself. To distract her, Marietta said, “Why don’t you come and meet the aeronaught, Lil? He’s a very nice man.”
Lil’s eyes narrowed even more. “Aeronaught?” she declared with a sniff. “I don’t hold with bohemians or eccentrics, miss. And what do you know about this aero-person? How do you know his name, Miss Marietta, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Marietta gave her a vague smile and hurried ahead. Despite her uncomfortable footwear, Lil caught up with her but by then she was too busy gazing at the rotunda, where a band was currently playing, to ask anymore questions.
Very soon they were entering the area where the balloon was tethered. Lil’s steps dragged as they drew closer, and Marietta caught her hand and tugged it impatiently. “Do come on, Lil. I promise it won’t bite!”
Reluctantly Lil let herself be pulled forward. “Don’t you leave me alone near that thing,” she said. “You hear me, miss?”
Marietta laughed. “What a scared little rabbit you are, Lil!” Looking up, she realized that Mr. Keith had seen their approach. He had been busy in the basket, making some adjustments, but now he lifted one long leg over the rim and, with the help of his assistant, jumped down to the ground.
“Miss Greentree!” He greeted her with a smile, before his eyes slid to Lil’s prim and upright person. “And a friend, I see.”
