“I never accept invitations,” said the latter. “I rarely even open them.”
“Indeed. The prince was not aware of your…obdurate eccentricity. But your presence is not required.” Lady Wilton turned back to Cecelia. “You can use the opportunity to make matters clear.”
“What matters?” asked Aunt Valeria.
“Whichever ones require it, Miss Vainsmede,” replied James’s grandmother. “You cannot flout your responsibilities and then expect to be informed about developments.” She looked to Cecelia again. “I’ve asked those girls you appear to dote on. They seem agog to see Vauxhall. It is to be tomorrow evening.”
“You seem to be ordering me to go,” Cecelia said.
“Because that is what I am doing.”
“And if I don’t wish to?” Prince Karl seemed like a distant memory now. James had superseded him.
“Your friends will be quite disappointed,” Lady Wilton said.
“I could arrange a visit for another evening.”
“And I shall bemostunpleasant if you do not come.”
“Why, Lady Wilton?” There seemed no reason for the old woman to be so exigent.
“I hope that the news you are being seen with the prince will root Tereford out of wherever he has gone to ground.”
Cecelia hadn’t thought of that. Of course, James was unlikely to hear any gossip in his current location.
“You’vestillhad no word from him?” the old lady asked.
Making a noncommittal gesture, Cecelia avoided answering.
“I’ve sent servants around to Percival’s old town house, but they found no sign of him there.”
They hadn’t tried very hard. Lady Wilton’s staff was not very enterprising.
“Hehasto return. I require him to take up his duties and find Ferrington.”
It took Cecelia a moment to remember that this was Lady Wilton’s errant great-grandson, the lost earl.
“I must give him a push. And I can think of no other way.” She gave Cecelia one of her signature glares. “I don’t think it is so much to ask, to go to Vauxhall with your friends and a prince. He’s asked Henry Deeping and some other young man. I’ve forgotten his name. Really, I insist.”
Although she didn’t like being pushed, Cecelia thought, why not? Her new friends would enjoy the outing. And she could find an opportunity to tell Prince Karl that she wasn’t interested. His marked attentions had become burdensome now that her heart was full of James. “Very well,” she said.
Aunt Valeria muttered something. Cecelia didn’t catch it. Lady Wilton didn’t appear to try.
In the end, the Vauxhall party numbered ten—five young ladies; four young gentlemen, including Ada’s promised husband; and Lady Wilton. They took two boats across the water to the gardens. “It looks like fairyland,” said Sarah as they embarked among lantern-lit trees.
The prince had engaged a large box. He informed them that he had ordered all the delicacies for which the place was famed—the thinly sliced ham, the cheesecakes, and of course champagne. Lady Wilton established herself in the box like a minor monarch. “You may walk about,” she said, flicking her fingers at the younger people. “Hear the orchestra. See the pavilion and so on. Together, of course.”
“There are fireworks later,” said the prince.
Ada clapped her hands in delight, and her fiancé teased her about adoring explosions.
The group set off to explore, and Cecelia soon noticed that Prince Karl was maneuvering them like a sheepdog chivying his herd. He pointed out the best routes and most admired exhibitions, gathered from others’ recommendations, it seemed. He interposed himself between Cecelia and the other young men. Gradually, he drew her toward the back of the group.
And then, between one moment and the next, he’d steered her away from them and into a side path. “Watch your step, Miss Vainsmede. It is darker here.”
“I see that it is.” Cecelia was mostly amused. His tactics to get her alone were transparent. This path was still peopled, though she noticed no one she knew.
“Do mind that rock.” Prince Karl took her arm as if to help, though the stone in question was several feet away. “Have you been to Vauxhall often?” he asked.