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‘Thank you, Lady Brotherton,’ Decima said demurely. That was worth every minute she had endured with Pru fussing over her smart new hairstyle and the severe tight lacing her afternoon gown required. She caught sight of herself in the long glass over the fireplace and forced her shoulders down, making herself relax. Lady Brotherton was in no position to lecture her on posture or anything else now.
‘I do hope you are well, ma’am. And Lord Brotherton, and all the girls, of course. It is Sophie’s year to come out, is it not? She must be so excited.’
‘Yes, we are all in perfect health, thank you, Dessy. Antonia is in an interesting condition, but apart from that they are all out and about—’ Lady Brotherton broke off as the tea tray was brought in. ‘And you are staying with Lady Freshford, I believe you wrote?’
‘Yes, her only daughter Caroline is making her come-out.’
‘Only one daughter. Oh, well, not everyone can have my good fortune. But, Dessy dear, there is the most exciting news—you recall Olivia Channing, my niece?’
Decima suddenly realised she could not claim ignorance of this news. If Olivia said something, then Lady Brotherton would immediately start speculating about what Decima had been doing
with Lord Weston. ‘Indeed, yes. I met her this morning in the street, quite by chance, with Lord Weston. What a fine match to be sure, you must be delighted, ma’am, for I recall how fond you have always been of her.’
‘Indeed I have. Her parents have worked so hard to bring this about.’
‘Olivia has known Lord Weston long?’
‘No, their acquaintance is fairly recent. They met at a house party.’ Why Lady Brotherton was looking uncomfortable about this Decima could not guess, but her speculation was cut short by the arrival of Miss Sophie Brotherton, positively agog with gossip. At the sight of Decima her face fell comically.
‘Oh, I wanted to surprise Mama with the news that you had arrived,’ she complained. ‘But it is lovely to see you. How fine you look, Dessy. Mama, I have seen Olivia and she told me Dessy had arrived—and guess what, Dessy knows Lord Weston! Isn’t that wonderful?’ She turned an eager face to Decima. ‘You see, none of us know him, not really, and we want to know all about him.’
‘You know Lord Weston?’ Lady Brotherton turned a look on her that Decima could only think of as calculating.
‘Yes. Not well.’ Only as well as having stood half-naked in his dressing room while he caressed her body. But then, they had never been formally introduced, so possibly it did not count. Half afraid she was going to giggle hysterically, Decima added, ‘I was visiting Charlton and Hermione for Christmas—you recall I wrote to you from there? I met him during that trip.’
‘Olivia thought you had business together.’ Damn. Now what to say?
‘It is probably something your mama would not wish me to mention in front of you, Sophie.’ Decima grabbed for the only possible half-truth. ‘It is to do with horse breeding. Lord Weston has a sta—’ she caught Lady Brotherton’s eye ‘—a male horse.’
‘Oh, dull stuff.’ Sophie wrinkled her nose. ‘So is there anything you know about him, or is it just horses?’
‘Not really. But Olivia will tell you all about him, won’t she?’
‘She doesn’t know him. I mean, they have hardly had time. They are very distant cousins of some sort and he was kind to her at the Minsters’ house party, but that’s all.’
‘It is not a love match, then?’
‘No,’ said Sophie wistfully.
‘Nothing so vulgar,’ her mother interjected forcefully.
‘But the viscount is so handsome.’ Sophie sighed. ‘It would be wonderful if they were in love. I think Olivia is frightened of him, though.’
‘Nonsense.’ Lady Brotherton frowned at her daughter. ‘Olivia is merely showing a proper reserve. And as for handsome men and love matches—I hope your papa does not catch you talking such foolishness, young lady.’
Decima made her way home with much to think about. It was not a love match, Olivia knew little about her husband-to-be and Sophie thought she was frightened of him.
But what was there to be frightened of? Adam had never shown an irritable or unreasonable side to his character, and the sort of situation they had found themselves in was almost guaranteed to expose such characteristics. Perhaps Olivia was simply overwhelmed by the sheer physical presence of the man. Decima shivered pleasurably at the recollected sensations of being held in his arms, kissed with that much passion and conviction.
But then, she was tall, almost able to stare him in the eye. What would it be like to be possessed by all that maleness if one were a tiny woman? Perhaps that was all it was. Why she should feel the desire to reassure Olivia when the girl was taking the man she loved was confusing. But that desire was there, none the less.
Decima shook her head, wondering at herself. A few months ago these thoughts, the experience that lay behind them, would have been inconceivable. What she needed was to shake the fidgets out of her bones, get back to what was familiar and safe.
Henry was climbing the steps as she alighted from her hackney carriage. ‘Shall we ride tomorrow morning?’ she asked impulsively as he held the door for her. ‘In Hyde Park? Early, so we can gallop and not be told off by all the old pussies. Surely it will not rain.’ Yes, that was it; something she was confident with and could share with Henry.
Adam did up one more coat button against the dank chill of an early February morning and turned Ajax’s head through the Stanhope Street entrance to Hyde Park. The discomfort of getting up at such an hour and riding out just as the reluctant light was penetrating the mist was more than rewarded by the prospect of an almost empty park.
The gelding fidgeted and he held him in check, more for the sake of discipline than anything else, as he scanned the expanse of greensward. Bates had reported that Fox had a loose shoe and the farrier had been sent for. He would have to be taken out that afternoon when the crowds made the prospect of exercising a high-blooded stallion something of a challenge.
