Page 9 of A Bonny Pretender
*
Two weeks later, late February
“Saints and sinners.Does anyone in London have a conversation worth repeating?” Brigid took a sip of tea and grimaced. She imagined Lady Franklin in an apoplectic fit as she drank a cup of ale instead. The woman was half-Scot but made her dislike of all things Scottish apparent. However, she treated Brigid well enough, and Sir Horace was a gem. He made her feel more than welcome in his house.
“Not in public,” answered Evelina in the cheeriest tone. “You remind me of my sister. She always wanted to talk about ledgers and crops and incoming shipments. Between her brain and her height, she scared any suitors away.”
Ye confront every mon who smiles at ye, speaking yer mind with no thought of the consequences.Brigid remembered her mother’s parting words. “Lachlan doesna seem to mind. Of course, a Scot has more common sense than most Englishmen.”
“Considering who you’ve met since your arrival, I’d have to concur. But there are some worthwhile English suitors. I believe my cousin Charles is quite smitten with you,” teased Evie.
“Och, I’m no’ but a source of entertainment to Mr. Wilkens. He canna wait to see what will come out of my mouth next.” Brigid snorted. “I thought he would explode at the musical yesterday trying to hold in his laughter. In my defense, I didn’t mean to make that comment out loud. It was supposed to stay in my head.”
The violinist had been horrendous. Every other stroke of bow against string had made her cringe.A bilious seagullhad been her first thought. Which had come out in a loud whisper. Which had made Mr. Wilkens guffaw and heads turn. Which had sent Lady Franklin’s complexion into the color of a turnip. To Evie’s credit, she’d stood and applauded energetically, returning everyone’s attention to the deplorable violinist. It had been one of many such incidents.
“I heard yer mother tell Mrs. Wilkerson I might be more of an embarrassment than Fenella.” The outrageous lengths Evie’s sister engaged just to avoid marriage had only made Brigid appreciate her sister-in-law more. “At least I’m no’tryingto offend anyone.”
“Charles is picking us up this afternoon. It’s such a lovely day, I thought we’d take a ride in Hyde Park.” Evie wiggled her eyebrows, knowing that any outside activity would brighten Brigid’s day. “Along with a civil exchange, I think you should practice flirting with him. We’ll tell him advance, so he won’t be misled.”
She rolled her eyes. “If ye insist, though I dinna ken how flirtations will make me a reputable lady. I’d think it would be the other way around.”
“And tomorrow night, we’re invited to a dance. And youwilldance,” Evelina said, ignoring the last comment, “without stepping on any toes. You’re very graceful, and I know you did it on purpose last week. Poor Lord Haverson hobbled around the rest of the night.”
“I swear the old lecher touched my backside when we started the dance. I promise to behave, though the sets are so long and tedious. I do enjoy the expressions that dash across Lady Franklin’s face when I forget myself.” She paused, worried she might be too bold with the next question. “How did yer father come to marry her? He’s so…”
“Nice? Considerate? Opposites attract, the scientists say.” Evelina brushed a crumb from her satin skirt. The deep blue complimented her ivory skin and cognac eyes. A cream lace overlay brought out the gold in her brown hair. “Papa was older when they met in Glasgow. He was handsome and wealthy and promised she would be called Lady Franklin if she married him.”
“Yer mother’s a Scot?” She crossed herself. Why did the woman have such a fervent dislike of her own countrymen?
“Half. My grandfather was from Manchester.” Evie rolled her eyes. “Mama roars loudly but means well. Papa sees through the bluster, and so do I.”
They finished breakfast and went to Brigid’s room to choose a dress for the afternoon jaunt.
An hour later, she sat before the mirror as the maid pulled up her curls into a loose chignon. Curls fell against her cheek and the back of her neck.
“Perfect,” exclaimed Evie.
Brigid had to admit the girl looking back at her was quite pretty. The bottle-green muslin dress was a bold color and reminded her of the pines at home. A pale peach ribbon, cinched just below her bustline, added to the curve of her hips. A pelisse the same shade of the ribbon covered her bare arms.
“He’s here. Let’s meet him in the entrance hall.” Evie grabbed Brigid’s hand and pulled her from the room. “To summarize, talk of only dull subjects and practice the actions I taught you.”
The ride to Hyde Park was uneventful. While her bonnet did shade her eyes from the bright afternoon, Brigid hated the tightly tied ribbon under her chin. The sun shone on the Serpentine, the water sparkling as they made their way around the crowded Ring. Brigid didn’t care about the traffic. She sucked in the crisp air and longed to be cantering across a pasture, her plaid flying and Brownie running beside her. An elbow in her side snapped her from her reverie.
“Did you hear me?” asked a perturbed Evelina. “Remember flirtation is subtle. A glance from beneath your lashes, a certain flutter of your fan, a side look.”
“I canna just wink at the mon I want to kiss?” she asked innocently. “And there’s nothing subtle about a lady using a fan outside in February.”
Mr. Wilkens’ shoulders jiggled beside her. His short-cropped brown hair was hidden beneath his hat, but she saw the sparkle of humor in his brown eyes. “I do believe I’m falling madly in love with you, Miss MacNaughton. You may wink at me any time the urge comes upon you.”
Evie rolled her eyes. “You’re no help, Cousin.”
“It’s not in my best interest,” he quipped. “Why change something already so perfect?”
Brigid flushed. “Are ye serious or flirting?”
“Both,” he admitted with a grin. “I consider you the most refreshing débutante of the Season.”
“And ye’re the most skillful liar I’ve met since I arrived.” She gave him an exaggerated wink. “How’s that for seduction?”
