Page 9 of Tempting Harriet
“I met him when I was with Clara Sullivan,” Harriet said. “Six years ago. He is a close friend of Mr. Sullivan’s. I believe he is being polite to an old acquaintance.”
“If you believe that,” Lady Forbes said, “you must be naive indeed. You are an extremely pretty young lady, Harriet, and his every glance at you shows that he appreciatesthe fact. He would not marry more than a notch or twobelow his rank at the greatest, you know. The Vinneys havealways been incredibly high in the instep.”
“You mean he would not marry the daughter of a poor country clergyman?” Harriet said with a laugh. “Even aftershe had elevated herself by marrying a baron? I know that,Amanda. You need not fear for me. I am not a total innocent. He danced with me last evening. He is taking me for adrive this afternoon. Do those few facts have to mean anything? I am not going to be shattered by disappointmentwhen he does not arrive tomorrow with a marriage offer.”Lady Forbes climbed the stairs at her side. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “I just hope he does not think you arethe typical widow.”
“Typical widow?” Harriet raised her eyebrows.
“Well, if there is such a thing,” Lady Forbes said. “It seems to be the general belief that widows enjoy far greaterfreedom than either unmarried girls or married ladies. Theyhave less to lose than the girls, if you understand my meaning, my dear, and yet they do not owe fidelity to any man.”
“Widows are expected to have affairs, then?” Harrietsaid.
“Well, perhaps notexpected,” Lady Forbes said. “Let us just say that it is believed many of them do. And it is notconsidered to be particularly scandalous if done discreetly.”
“As long as people do not know for sure,” Harriet said,“they will continue to treat the widow with all due respect?”
“But of course,” Lady Forties said, “you are not that type of widow, Harriet. The very thought! I really cannot imagine you ... But I just hope Tenby realizes it. If he does not,it is a good thing you are not the type, dear, for I imaginethat Tenby is the sort of man who could easily break awoman’s heart. He is an extremely attractive young man.Even I, who am old enough to be his mother, can appreciate that. What color would you say his eyes are?”
“Silver,” Harriet said.
“Let him bring you into fashion, dear,” Lady Forbes said. “But don’t let him break your heart. I am foolish to worry,though, am I not?” She reached out to squeeze Harriet'sarm before allowing her to escape into her dressing room.“You are a very sensible young lady despite your affectionate heart. You would not allow someone like Tenby to turnyour head.”
Harriet smiled rather bleakly as she let herself into her room.
Chapter 4
He had to look across at her occasionally to remind himself that she was not in fact a young girl. She was dainty andslim and looked remarkably pretty in primrose muslin andshawl and flower-trimmed straw bonnet. Wingham musthave left her quite comfortably well off, he decided. Bothlast night and today she had been fashionably and tastefullydressed. He remembered the serviceable, rather primclothes she had worn as Clara Sullivan’s companion,though they had done nothing to dull her charms.
“I have never ridden in a curricle,” she said by way of apology for the fact that she had just grasped his sleeve asthey turned a corner and relinquished it again almost immediately. “It seems far more dangerous up here than it appears from down there.”
“By all means hang on,” he said. “Though I would not put you in any danger, Harriet. My reputation as a gentleman on it.”
In any other woman the clinging, the explanation of feminine weakness, the wide-eyed look, would have appeared flirtatious and quite incongruous with her age. He wouldhave been feeling nauseated. But then in any other womanboth words and actions would have been studied, designedto arouse his gallantry. There was no artifice in Harriet. Hefelt a wave of unwilling tenderness for her as he turned hiscurricle into Hyde Park and her face took on a sparkle ofexcitement. Most young ladies would immediately have assumed an air of ennui.
“It is your first visit to the park, I assume?” he said.
“Oh—no,” she said. “In fact, I was here earlier today, walking. But it is the first time I have been a participant inthe fashionable hour. How splendid it all looks.”
The Season and the fine weather had brought out thetonin force. Horses, carriages of all descriptions, pedestrians—all blocked the thoroughfare so that moving at faster thansnail’s pace would be quite impossible. But then one didnot come to Hyde Park at five o’clock of an afternoon inorder to move fast. One came to mingle. For perhaps thefirst time since being unmannerly enough to cut into Kershaw’s invitation to Harriet, the duke wondered how thetonwas going to interpret his appearance in their midstwith Lady Wingham when his dancing with her the eveningbefore had caused such an undoubted sensation. Theywould assume that he was beginning a liaison with her.Somehow the thought irritated him.
“You must smile and be prepared to discuss the weather ad infinitum, Harriet,” he said. “You must be prepared foran hour of crashing boredom.”
She laughed. “You forget that I live in Bath,” she said “I am a thorough expert at discussing the weather. And howcould it be boring to be a part of all this?” She looked abouther with bright, happy eyes and lifted one slim arm encasedin its primrose glove.
And he looked about him too, seeing it all as she must be seeing it. She had lived most of her life in a country parsonage and in Bath. For a short while she had lived at EburyCourt with the Sullivans, but in the capacity of a servant. More recently she had been married to an elderly man witha weak heart. She would have been in mourning for hisdeath for a year. She had probably been out of mourningfor only a short while. Looking with new eyes at the parkand the people thronging there, he could see that the scenedid have a certain magic. He had taken the privileges of hislife very much for granted.
There was no chance for further private conversation. They became a part of the throng and the duke knew thathis entry into Avingleigh's ballroom the night before reallyhad begun something that he might find hard to reverse.Gentlemen friends and acquaintances gazed appreciativelyat Harriet and touched their hats to her and grinned at him.Others who had been presented to her during the ball and had perhaps even danced with her made a point of maneuvering their horses or their curricles or phaetons closeenough that they could pay their respects to her. A few ladyfriends of Lady Forbes’s ordered their carriages drawnalongside so that they might greet her. And all and sundrylooked at him with varying degrees of shrewd calculation.It was not usual to see the Duke of Tenby tooling a younglady of quality about the park during the fashionable hour.
He wondered if Harriet realized how dazzlingly successful her entree into society was being. And how dangerous it might be to her reputation if her name became linked tooclosely with his.
He touched the brim of his hat to Dan Wilkes, the Earl of Beaconswood, whose barouche had drawn alongside hiscurricle, and would have driven on. But the countess, eagerface alight, had other ideas.
“Harriet Pope?” she said. “ItisHarriet, is it not?”
“Lady Wingham, Julia,” her husband said pointedly. “How are you, ma’am? Archie?”
“Oh, good afternoon, your grace,” the countess said with a laugh. “And I am sorry, Harriet, to have greeted you by along-outdated name. And sorry about your husband. Claratold us and about your being here. We have been lookingout for you, have we not, Daniel?”
The earl chuckled. “We have left scarce a stone unturned,” he said.
