Page 63 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock
Supper was a quiet affair with only her parents at home.
“How is your friend Lady Harbury?” her father asked during the meal. “Has she given birth yet?”
“Edith is well, Father. It is Charlotte who is with child.”
He nodded. “Oh yes, yes. Lady Ashford. Both of your friends made extraordinary matches.”
“They did,” she replied with a smile. “I am so glad Edith and Charlotte are both happy.”
“I’m sure you will find a suitor worthy of you, my dear,” her mother interjected kindly.
Louisa hoped she would meet someone who not only shared her interests but loved her. Seeing her friends so happily matched, she wanted the same for herself.
When she arrived at Lady Sandhurst’s card party, it was to find that Lord Wycliffe was indeed the topic of conversation. To her chagrin, she was included in the gossip as it was well known one of the clocks destroyed had belonged to her.
Over a hand of Loo, her hostess asked, “Did you know Lord Wycliffe was going to destroy your clock?”
“I did,” she replied firmly. “If someone was willing to break into his home and restrain his servants... Well, I couldn’t have that happening to my family.”
“He could have given the clocks away,” another lady pointed out.
She smiled tightly. “Then the problem would just be transferred to someone else. Now nobody has the clocks.”
It wasn’t long before she was tired of answering questions about her clock, and for that matter, Lord Wycliffe. Louisa felt a migraine coming on. At the late supper break, she asked Edith if she and Nathaniel would take her home.
“Of course, my friend.” Edith patted her shoulder. “I’m sure all the attention can be quite wearing.”
By the time she returned to Carstairs, Louisa wanted nothing more than to be alone. She collected the Thomas Hope book from the drawing room and took it to her bedchamber. She'd tucked copies of her sketches of the mythology inside the book. Studying them in the privacy of her room brought her no closer to determining who Venus might be.
Louisa hoped to see Lord Wycliffe at the exhibition tomorrow. If not, she would ask Edith to have Nathaniel pass on the news about Cupid.
There had been a moment when Cecil handed her the flowers in the drawing room when Louisa thought he might feel something for her. An awareness had flashed in his eyes. It was a moment she held onto. If he were at the picture gallery tomorrow, she would take it as a sign he wanted to see her, too.
“I’m mad,” she said into a pillow, hugging it to her chest. “Lord Wycliffe only has thoughts for the Rogue’s Alliance, not me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cecil observed his appearance in the Cheval mirror in the corner of his bedchamber. “You are a wonder, Henry. That knot is more intricate than any I’ve seen.”
“Something I picked up on the continent, my lord.”
“Very soon, I plan on reopening my townhouse in Hanover Square. If you decide to stay on, I shall have a full staff. You won’t be required to do as much as you’ve taken on here.”
“It keeps me busy, my lord. I won’t complain.”
Cecil would visit the exhibition at the Dulwich Picture Gallery. Bones had followed Louisa and Edith yesterday and overheard them planning an outing today. The gallery had recently opened to the public, and he was interested in viewing the collections on display.
His coach was waiting in the street; Cecil vaulted inside after giving his driver directions.
The drive to Dulwich in South London would take nearly an hour in the afternoon traffic. The trip would take him across the new Regent Bridge, the first iron bridge in London. It was a bright day, and he observed the passing scenery through the uncovered windows of his coach.
Upon arrival at the museum, he was surprised by the yellow stone and square lines of the building. It wasn’t a style of architecture he was accustomed to. Once inside, he wandered through the rooms, bemused by the abundance of skylights.
“Lord Wycliffe!”
He hadn’t had to look for Louisa and Edith as they had found him. Louisa looked the picture of elegance in a cream gown and violet Spencer. She smiled softly at him, and he caught his breath. What was wrong with him lately? He was no young buck to be won over by pretty manners.
Finding his equilibrium, he said, “Lady Harbury, Lady Louisa, it is a pleasure to see you here. Are you enjoying the exhibition?”
