Page 26 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

None of the young women his mother presented to him had stirred his interest. They were nervous, he supposed, when they repeated his opinions back at him and revealed none of their own. He frowned. Unlike Miss Bromley, who was decidedly opinionated. So, he had been correct about her determination. He needed to find out what drove her to follow him around like an insistent puppy. It appeared that Lady Arietta had set her onto him. Miss Bromley could find herself in very real danger should she persist. And he wasn’t confident she’d let matters rest. He did not fancy having to break his cover to rescue her from these dangerous men who thought little about murdering a woman to save their hides. He must find a way to reason with her. Make her stop.

But how might he achieve it? That required some thought, and in the meantime, there were more pressing things he must do.

Chapter Ten

“I’ve been to race meets in the country, but nothing like this,” Letty said to Arietta where they stood with a group of her friends viewing the races.

Ascot racecourse was surrounded by woodlands, with sheep and cattle roaming the pastures, but any similarity to the countryside vanished where thousands of patrons milled over the grounds, lining the barrier on both sides of the green turf where the horses raced. A deafening cheer or a chorus of groans went up each time the horses galloped past. Some gentlemen even stood atop their carriages to urge the horses on.

“Time for champagne.” Lord Chumley topped off their glasses. He was full of good cheer; his horse having won a race.

Ladies in their flowery hats and gentlemen in their tailcoats and tall hats filled the cottage tent where afternoon tea was served while the tavern sold champagne, wine, and ale to the men.

Letty, fascinated by the sights, took a deep breath of the cool spring air laden with the pungent smells of humanity and horseflesh. On the other side of the course, many were not so beautifully attired. They ate pies and more simple fare, while enjoying the prize-fighting, the gaming tents, and a singer who sang ballads. A juggler balancing a dozen spinning plates caught her eye.

“I’ve seen Cartwright. Over there by the rail,” Arietta said. “He’s walking toward the Duke of Colchester’s coach.” She nudged Letty’s arm. “Quick!”

Letty’s heart sank. “I can’t follow him. There are too many people. I’ll get lost.”

Arietta removed Letty’s half-full champagne glass from her limp fingers. “Nonsense! You can easily find your way back to this tent. I shall stay here and wait for you, and then we’ll have tea.”

As she hurried after Cartwright, Letty was jostled by the large throng of people. She fixed her eye on his black silk top hat and the broad expanse of his back garbed in a pale gray tailcoat. Fortunately, he was taller than many around him. He made his way purposefully through the crowd. Was he on the scent of a group of conspirators? Or was he one of them? With a glance over his shoulder, he approached a tent and disappeared inside. Unable to follow, Letty hovered while angling her blush-pink parasol to hide her face, far enough away to be inconspicuous. Or so she thought.

Suddenly, when she raised her parasol, he was beside her.

He swept off his hat. “Miss Bromley. How surprising to find you here outside the gentleman’s convenience.”

“Was it?” Her face burned. “I…um, was looking for the ladies’.”

He pointed to another tent some way off.

“Thank you.” She turned to leave, but he continued to walk beside her.

“What are you doing?” Letty glared at him. “You can’t accompany me there.”

“No. But I shall wait outside. I have wanted to speak to you, and this seems the perfect time.”

“I can’t imagine what about.”

“Can you not?”

She sneaked a glance at his patrician profile, noting the harsh set of his jaw. “I have nothing to say that might be of interest to you, sir,” she said doggedly, finding little to say in her defense.

“Oh, I think you might.” He stopped and nodded toward the tent. “Don’t let me detain you.”

Letty let down her parasol and hurried inside the large tent where screens were set up for the women’s privacy. Finding another doorway toward the back, she gasped with relief and darted through it.

Cartwright waited outside, his arms folded.

She glared at him as she walked past, eager to escape him and return to Arietta.

Cartwright strolled beside her as if they were enjoying a promenade in the park. He seemed impervious to snubs.

“I am disappointed you refuse to talk to me, Miss Bromley,” he said, his voice tinged with irony. “I fear I may be losing my charm.”

“I shouldn’t think so, sir. I am doubtful you ever had a surfeit of it.” She bit her lip, now she was being most dreadfully impolite, what was it about this man? Really, Arietta did expect a lot of her.

He laughed. “That’s not very polite. Don’t they teach you manners in Cumbria?”

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