The only time Eve had stayed away from home was when she visited Rachel and her new husband at his Worcestershire home. That had been just one day's journey, so the prospect of spending several days on the road and seeing towns she had read so much about was one she looked forward to with glee. The first night was spent in Cheltenham, and even Eve was thankful to get down from the carriage. The roads in Herefordshire were poor, made worse by the recent heavy rain, but Amelia, who had been to London on several previous occasions, assured her the roads from here on were much better.
'It's because it's a spa and the quality travel on the road from London, and demand better surfaces,' she explained.
It was dark when they reached the inn, but in the morning Eve was delighted with the elegant new terraces and would have liked to spend more time exploring them.
'Not now, we have to be in Oxford tonight,' Sir Bernard said.
'Oxford? Oh, will we see the college James is entered for?'
'Yes, for most of them are in the town centre, but we will have to start early the next day so that we reach London before it is dark.'
'And cross Hounslow Heath in the daylight,' Amelia said. 'That's where the highwaymen wait. And why the footmen carry firearms.'
Eve shivered. 'Will they shoot any highwaymen? Kill them?'
'Don't be afraid, we won't meet any,' Sir Bernard said, laughing.
Eve was not sure whether she wanted to meet any. It would be exciting, of course, but she did not want to see even a highwayman killed.
She forgot about them as the carriage went along the road from Cheltenham, and she enjoyed looking out at the new countryside. Oxford was not at all as she had imagined it. She hadn't expected the colleges to be so old, but as they drove past and she caught glimpses of the quadrangles through the gateways she spoke impulsively.
'How I wish females could come here to study!' she said, when she and Amelia had been shown to the bedroom they were to share, and she was hanging out of the window for a last glimpse of the nearest college.
Amelia laughed. 'They'd never permit that. And you hated your lessons.'
'I hated having to read improving books, and studying only the poets and the history Papa approved of. Why did I have to learn all about the Greeks and the Romans, but he forbade me to read about the Egyptians? Or the civil war in England? And all that endless sewing and studying household economy. If I get married I'll have a housekeeper and she'll manage all that.'
'But you'll have to supervise her, and check the household accounts.'
'Then I'd best not get married.'
'You'll want to when you meet the one man for you.'
Eve looked at her friend's soulful expression. Was she thinking of the Earl? 'Do you believe there is only one man for you? What if you never meet him? If he lives in China?'
Amelia laughed. 'I couldn't marry a Chinese!'
'Then you'll have to take the best that offers. Do you expect to meet him this year in London?' Would Amelia confide in her if she and the Earl were to be betrothed? Though from what she said it didn't seem likely.
'That's why they have the Season. So that the men looking for a wife can inspect all the new debutantes and if they like one, propose.'
'It sounds like a cattle market.'
'Well, how else can we meet enough men to make a choice? They call Almack's the Marriage Mart. But we have to go there if we can. It's very exclusive, and you only have vouchers if the Patronesses approve of you. But Caroline knows some of them, and I expect Rachel will get vouchers for you next year.'
Eve was silent. There was so much she did not know, but these few weeks during the Little Season with Amelia would prepare her for the real one in the spring. She wasn't sure she wanted to be exhibited for the young men to inspect, but if she ever wanted to escape from the Rectory, and marriage with Nicholas, she would have to find a different husband. London would be her only chance.
*
The house in Grosvenor Square was always kept ready for Justin, and when he arrived late in the evening there was a meal ready for him. He had travelled post, in one day, without stopping, and wanted first, some food, then his bed. But there was a pile of paper on the desk in his study, and he had to deal with it first.
The War Office had sent several memos, mainly to do with the supply situation now that Wellington and his army had crossed the Pyrenees and were in France. Was it still necessary to send supplies to the northern Spanish ports, or could they now use French ones?
Justin sighed. Someone would have to investigate, probably travel to Bordeaux and assess the situation. It would not, he vowed, be himself.
He dealt with the memos, then turned to the more personal notes. Invitations to balls, soirees, dinners, and other social occasions. They were mostly, he noticed, from mamas with young debutante daughters. He had been accustomed for ten years or more to be the target of match-making mamas, and though he was always a welcome guest, he had never shown any particular interest in any of the young ladies wheeled out for his inspection. That, however, did not deter either the mothers or the daughters. Swiftly he sorted the invitations into piles. His secretary, Robert Ferguson, could deal with them in the morning. He could send apologies for not attending those which had taken place during his absence, accept a few which came from special friends, and regretfully decline the rest.
Finally he turned to the one Robert had not opened, from his brother Stephen. The boy rarely wrote unless he needed extra money, and in rural Herefordshire there was little for him to spend on. This time it was a plea to be taken away from the Rectory. 'The Reverend Ripon may be teaching me Latin and Greek, but I never seem to read anything but silly poems about the countryside or soppy love stories,' he complained. 'He won't give me anything about the Trojan wars, or the Roman Empire,' he added. 'Please, Justin, can't you find me someone else? And James won't stop saying he wants to go and be a soldier, and his father becomes all sarcastic in that gentle, hurt way he has, so that it's unbearable. I don't want to be a soldier, it's not that, just that it's all so tedious!'
Justin felt for him. It had been Bernard who suggested the Reverend Ripon might cram Stephen for Oxford, as his own elder son James was due to go there at the same time, and Justin had been so busy he had accepted the recommendation without visiting the Rectory or meeting the Rector. This was something else Robert could see to, finding another tutor for Stephen.
At last, stretching his aching limbs, he went to his bedroom, to find that his valet, the admirable Clement, had prepared a bath for him. The fire was burning brightly, the bathtub set before it, his nightgown laid out on the bed, and the water was just the right temperature.
'How do you manage it?' he asked as he began to strip off his travelling clothes. 'You don't know when I'll be finished, but the water is always perfect.'
Clement smiled. He'd been with the Earl since he was a boy.
'Constant replenishments of hot water, my lord,' he said. 'I abstract one jugful and replace it with another, so it is always the correct temperature.'
'And does not overflow. Have you seen these new bathrooms where there is a fixed bath, and even piped water? I wonder if it would be worth installing one here?'
'It would involve a great deal of work in the house, my lord, and I doubt it would be more efficient than this.'
'It would save the maids having to carry so many jugs of hot water up the stairs.'
'Then what would they have to do?'
Justin smiled, and sank into the water with a sigh of relief. The week at home had been a pleasant break, and tomorrow he would be confronted with all sorts of problems. The sooner this war was over and Napoleon either dead or imprisoned the better.
*
It was dusk when they finally arrived in Albemarle St, turning in from Piccadilly. Eve had marvelled at the increasing amount of traffic as they came closer to London.
'Why all these slow carts?' she demanded as once again the horses had to drop to a walk before they could find a gap to overtake.
'Farm carts,' Sir Bernard explained. 'They are bringing produce in to the markets. It needs to be there before morning, when customers need it.'
They had sent servants ahead of them to open up the house. Normally only a couple of caretakers lived there, Lady Montgomery explained, but it would all be ready for them, and a meal awaiting. They did not need to change tonight.
Eve was shown up to a room on the third floor, next to Amelia's. She marvelled at the luxury, so different from her small bleak room at home, with the minimum furniture and a small, hard bed. This room overlooked a pleasant garden, and the bed was so soft she was tempted to stay on it instead ot making herself tidy to go downstairs.
'Your trunk will be brought up and my maid will unpack it while we eat,' Amelia explained, and Eve wondered what the maid would think of her untidy, hasty packing. It was too late to worry, so after a quick wash she and Amelia went down to the drawing room, and within minutes had been called to the dining room.
It was elegant, far more so than the house in the country, and Amelia told her that when the table was extended they could seat twenty persons.
Lady Montgomery, overhearing, laughed. 'We live simply in the country,' she explained. 'In town, however, we need to entertain more.'
Eve thought of her simple country gowns. They would not do for dining with Lady Montgomery's important guests. Somehow she had to contrive at least one fashionable evening gown. When dinner was over, and the two girls were told to go to bed for an early night after the journey, she dragged Amelia into her bedroom and sank down onto the bed.
'What shall I do? Amelia, you know what my gowns are like! Look at them!' She pulled some onto the bed. 'They are suitable only for a country schoolgirl, far from fashionable, and ancient! I was only permitted to have white or this insipid, horrid pink. And my only evening gown is high-necked, and has long sleeves! Look! It's not at all like those you showed me in La Belle Assemblée! It might just as well be a morning gown.'
Amelia picked up the gown Eve was thrusting towards her. 'Yes, I do see. You can't wear this.'
'I suppose I can always have dinner in my room when your brother has guests.'
'Of course you can't! Your father gave you some money. How much?' Amelia asked.
'Fifty pounds! I've never even seen so much all at once. He must have made a mistake, thinking there was less there than there was!'
Amelia shook her head. 'It's not enough to purchase even one evening gown, if you want to be fashionable. But we can go to Bedford House tomorrow, and we can buy some muslins and perhaps a length of sarsnet. And perhaps also some gauze to make an overskirt for one of these gowns. I think that won't cost a great deal. Then there or at one of the other linen drapers we can buy trimmings, ribbons and laces and flowers. Caroline's dressmaker can make you some gowns, and I'm sure we can change some of yours to make them more fashionable. We can lower the neckline, make the sleeves short, and perhaps add some flounces. And I have a new pelisse, so you could wear my old one.'
'I don't have one at all! Just that old cloak.'
Amelia was ticking off her fingers. 'You will need to buy some shoes, but Caroline will have an old reticule and some gloves she no longer wants. She has dozens of hats, too, she will give you one that we can trim to make it look different. By tomorrow evening you will have at least one gown.'
'But – but, I can't expect your sister to engage her dressmaker for me. And she could not make a new gown so quickly.'
'Why not? Caroline invited you to come, and she'll want you to look good. In fact, I know she has several gowns she no longer wears, and she would love you to have them. She always buys lots of new clothes when she comes to London. Tomorrow, we'll ask her.'
Eve had a suspicion she ought not to accept such generosity, but the thought of appearing at one of Lady Montgomery's fashionable parties in an old, shabby gown made her swallow her instinctive rejection. Then she grinned. If they could alter her plain, old-fashioned gowns in the ways Amelia suggested, the Rector would be furious when she returned home. He'd call her a Jezebel or worse, though what could be worse she could not think. Then she determined to forget her father and his probable disapproval, and enjoy these few weeks as much as she could.
*
James sneaked into the Rector's study. His father had gone across to the church, and there was an opportunity to read his copy of The Times and catch up with what was happening on the continent. He didn't manage to read the accounts of the war every day, for his father often took the paper with him when he went out, to give to one of his parishioners, James supposed. So he had to fill in the gaps from the hints in later accounts, or even the letters. At last things seemed to be moving with the recent fall of San Sebastian, though it seemed some of the French troops had held out in a nearby castle which, so far as James had been able to judge, was surrounded by sea. James did not understand why it had been left to the Spanish to attack this last French possession, and he thought things would have been finished much sooner if the British army had been involved. But finally the stubborn French resistance had been dislodged, and soon the British would be crossing the Pyrenees, into France at last. The River Bidassoa was not far from San Sebastian, and no doubt Wellington would be crossing that soon.
He was deep in the account when the Rector returned.
'What are you doing in here?' he barked.
'Just reading the paper, sir.'
James did his best to fold the paper so that his father could not see what he'd been reading, but the Rector snatched it away from him.
'Get out of here, and don't let me see you reading this again. I have told you, repeatedly, I will not permit you to join the army. You are under age, and even if you were not, you'd not have my blessing. You are going to Oxford, and then entering the Ministry.'
James did not attempt to argue. They had said all they could many times, and he knew his father would not be moved. He could not understand his deep aversion to army life. It surely could not be fear that James would be injured or killed, for he was certain his father had no love for him. He thought of him, as he did his other children, as possessions, something to be kept and never given away. It was a wonder, now he came to think of it, that he had permitted Rachel to marry. Perhaps the fact that her husband was rich, with only daughters to inherit his wealth, had swayed him. Rachel might have a son who would inherit most of it, and if fortune favoured the Rector, the Viscount might die within a few years, before any son was old enough to take charge, and it would be natural that Rachel should come back to her childhood home and the protection of her father. James snorted in derision. The man was crazy for power! And Rachel had more sense, he was sure, than to return to the Rectory now she had obtained her freedom. If Eve, as he hoped, also managed to find a husband in London, one who did not care that she had no fortune herself, she would not return here. And he would have two sisters with their own homes, and both of them would welcome him when he came home on leave. Once he had escaped this prison, he meant never to return.
*
When Eve awoke the following morning, it was to find a neatly dressed maid bringing her a cup of chocolate. She had never had meals in bed unless she had been ill, and as she was normally in robust health that had been a very rare treat.
'Shall I bring you breakfast, Miss?' the maid asked. 'Or will you go down to the breakfast room?'
Eve gulped. She hadn't anticipated having to make such decisions. 'What does Amelia – Miss Amelia do?'
'Oh, she goes down. I'll come and bring some hot water, then help you dress, and show you the way.'
'Thank you. What is your name?'
'Katie, Miss.'
'Thank you, Katie.'
Eve breathed a huge sigh, and drank the chocolate. Her thoughts went to what on earth she ought to wear. She knew that ladies changed their gown several times a say, depending on what they were doing. They had morning gowns, walking gowns, driving gowns, afternoon gowns, evening gowns, and probably special gowns for breakfast, and for interviewing the cook about the day's meals, she thought rather hysterically. Which of her few old-fashioned gowns would be most appropriate?
Fortunately, as she finished washing and was wondering what to wear Amelia appeared, carrying a warm-looking pelisse in a dark shade of green, trimmed with sable, a hat with dark green ribbons, and what looked like half a dozen gowns of different pastel shades.
'I've been with Caroline,' she announced, dropping her burdens on the bed, 'and she has given me some of these. The rest are my old ones. They will do until we can have some new ones made for you. It's fortunate we are all the same height, and none of us is fat!'
'You shouldn't!' Eve managed. 'You are all being generous enough by inviting me to London.'
'Nonsense. You'll be company for me while Caroline visits her own friends, and Bernard is with his. And we don't want you to feel uncomfortable in those dreadfully old-fashioned gowns your father makes you wear.'
Eve could not reply. There were tears in her eyes, and she hugged Amelia. 'You are such a good friend, and I do thank you, and Lady Montgomery.'
'Good, then decide which of these you'll wear now, and after breakfast we'll be off to Bedford House. Bernard doesn't like us going by ourselves, so he's sending us in the carriage and one of the footmen will come with us to carry the parcels.'
At Bedford House Eve had to exercise great restraint. There were fabrics in every conceivable shade, blues from the palest to a deep, almost purple, pinks that she found she could have worn, lilac, lavender, cream, lemon, and green. She wanted them all. In the end, when Amelia suggested some of her old gowns might be dyed, she chose a figured muslin, as she had never before had such a fabric, and another length of pale sea-green sarsnet, a beautiful silky fabric which shone in the reflected light.
It was easier to choose ribbons and beads and flowers, and Amelia bought several trimmings for herself, saying they would improve some of her old gowns. Both girls returned to Albemarle street laden and flushed with success. And, Eve thought, she still had quite enough of her father's money to make a second expedition a possibility.
Lady Montgomery heard them come in and came to Eve's room to see what they had bought.
'My sewing lady is in the small room upstairs,' she told them. 'She is dealing with your evening gown first, Eve, dropping the neckline and making the sleeves short. It will do for now, and I brought a shawl you can wear with it.'
Eve gasped. It was not at all the sort of shawl some of the village women wore, thick and heavy. This was gossamer fine, of gauze and spangled with silver beads, with silver threads running through it.
'Oh, it's beautiful! But Lady Montgomery, you have already given me so much!'
'I am happy to, for you are keeping Amelia company. And do call me Caroline, for Lady Montgomery from one of Amelia's friends makes me feel so old. Justin and a friend of his are coming to dine with us, so you will both want to look your best. But now, Eve dear, come with me and my sewing woman can take whatever measurements she needs. Afterwards, shall we go to Bond Street and borrow some books from Hookham's?'
*
Eve was amazed when they entered Bond Street. It was so close Caroline said they would walk, although a footman accompanied them to carry their parcels. There were, it seemed to her, hundreds of people strolling along or driving or riding in carriages, stopping to talk to one another, or vanishing into shops.
The shops amazed her, and it seemed fashionable people could obtain everything they needed here in this one street.
'Not quite everything,' Caroline said, laughing. 'There are shops elsewhere, and they will often be cheaper. As you have already discovered at Bedford House.'
She was even more astonished when they entered Hookham's Lending Library. It was crowded with both men and ladies looking at the books available. After a considerable time Eve found a copy of Castle Rackrent by Maria Edgeworth. She had heard Rachel talk about it once, and their father had angrily forbidden his daughters to read novels, especially those which dealt with disreputable Irish families.
'I wonder if he has read it himself?' Rachel had said, smothering a laugh.
'Surely he would never read a novel!' Eve was aghast.
Caroline, coming to see what Eve was studying, said she had enjoyed the novel some years before.
'I am going to take Camilla,' Amelia said. 'I enjoyed the other book by Fanny Burney, Evelina. It was so amusing.'
'I remember. You lent it to me, and I had to keep it in the hay loft in case Papa saw it.'
'You can read whenever you like here,' Caroline said.
They had left the shop and were strolling along when a barouche was halted beside them, and an elderly lady beckoned to Caroline.
'My dear, how nice to see you in town. I must send you an invitation to my next soiree. And who are your companions?'
Amelia and Eve were introduced, and Lady Carstairs promised to include them in her invitation. As she drove on, a curricle stopped, and yet another of Caroline's acquaintances greeted her. Eve wondered how many people Caroline knew in London.
'I thought the Little Season was not very busy,' she said as they moved away from yet another carriage whose occupant had stopped to greet them.'
'It isn't. But everyone comes to Bond Street to shop, or the men come to visit Gentleman Jackson's boxing saloon.'
'Gentlemen? Boxing? I thought only rough men did that.'
'They also practice fencing,' Caroline explained.
'But men don't carry swords now, do they?' Eve was puzzled.
'I think some do in the army.'
'And don't some of them fight duels with swords?' Amelia asked. 'Oh, I do wish I could be present at a duel!'
Caroline shook her head. 'Duels are forbidden, though they do sometimes still happen. But if you were present, you would be utterly ruined, my child.'
Amelia looked as though she would not mind, and when they reached Albemarle Street and retreated to her bedroom to examine their books, she complained at how boring it was if men could not settle their quarrels in the usual manner.
'Perhaps they box,' Eve said, 'though that sounds very uncomfortable.'
'I wouldn't like that, but I wish I could learn to fence!'
*
Rachel considered the letter she held. Eve sounded so thrilled, and Rachel knew just how she felt. It was not only the chance of escaping from the Rectory, but the excitement of going to London. She wondered how Eve was going to manage for clothes, and whether to send her those of her own, from the old days, which she and Annie had already altered. Yes, she suddenly decided. She had plenty of pin money, her husband was generous, she could buy fabrics and make some new gowns for Eve as well before they went to London. She rang for Annie.
'We'll pack these which are ready, and the pelisse, and my old riding habit,' she said. 'We can send them by carrier to the Montgomery town house. Eve will no doubt be glad of them.'
Annie suddenly giggled as she held up one of the altered evening gowns.
'The Rector will have a fit when she goes back home with these. He was disapproving of your gowns when he came to stay here, but he couldn't say so, when the master was always with you.'
Rachel chuckled. 'But if looks could kill, I'd have been dead, and so would Joseph. All poor Papa could do was ask me, in that gently sarcastic manner he has, if fashions had changed so much since his day, with necklines so low.'
'Did he ever spend time in London?'
'I don't know. Now, isn't that odd? I know so little of his early life, and none of his family are still alive. My mother came from Lancashire, that I do know, but I never heard where or how they met. He was a curate in Shropshire, though I never heard which parish, and perhaps she was visiting near there. And none of her family is still alive apart from her brother, who made lots of money in India. At least, I suppose he is, I've never heard otherwise. But he visited us once, when I was just a little girl, about three years old, I think, and I heard him and Papa quarrelling. He left in a hurry, and has never been back, but when I asked Papa why I was told his name was never to be mentioned, he was not a good man. Why, I doubt if he knows my brothers exist, unless Mama wrote to him in secret. But if she did she would have had to do it without Papa knowing, and somehow I don't think she would have had the courage.'
'Why don't you contact him?' Annie said. 'Was he married?'
'I don't think so. I'm sure he didn't bring a wife with him that time. But if he is I might have hordes of cousins I never knew about!'
'Did your father write to tell him when your mother died?'
'I'm sure he didn't. And I don't know his address, but I suppose he may have gone back to Lancashire.'
'You know his name, and where he used to live. You could employ someone to go there and ask around.'
'Yes, I could. Perhaps I will. But these gowns, now, what on earth will Papa say when Eve goes home with them? He'll cut them to pieces or throw them on the fire.'
'You could suggest that when she goes home she leaves them in Upper Brook Street, ready for when you go there in May.'
'I'll do that. What ever would I do without you and your commonsense, Annie?'
*
Eve's white gown was unrecognisable. The much lower neckline was trimmed with a ribbon in a pretty shade of blue, and a frill of lace. There was more lace on the very short sleeves, and a ruffle of blue ribbon round the hem. Katie came to put up her hair in bunches of ringlets either side of her face. When she looked in the mirror she told Amelia she didn't recognise herself.
They went down to the drawing room, and Caroline nodded in approval. 'You look very well.'
Sir Bernard came across to kiss her hand. 'You're a beautiful young lady,' he said, 'and I have a little present for you.'
He handed her a fan with ivory sticks and pictures of London on the chicken skin. Eve felt like weeping.
'You are all so very kind and generous,' she managed.
Before he could reply the two visitors were announced. Eve was somewhat startled to see the Earl in evening dress. He looked taller, and somehow more remote, intimidating, and when he smiled and came across the room to kiss her hand she felt she had never seen him before, never been plucked by him off her apple tree, never lectured him on how cider was made.
His friend, introduced as Sir Peter Sankey, was equally well dressed, but shorter and rather plump. He had a round face, ingenuous blue eyes, and an infectious smile. When he led Eve into dinner she felt she was able to talk to him.
'Justin tells me you make cider,' he said as they were served with soup. 'An unusual hobby, if I may say so, for a pretty girl.'
'It isn't exactly a hobby, sir, and I don't make it myself, but a neighbour, a farmer, makes it for me from my apples.'
'My estates are in Devon, and we make cider too. Have you read New Atlantis by Francis Bacon?'
'No, but I have heard of it. Doesn't he maintain cider prevents scurvy? And other diseases?'
'I will lend it to you. You are correct. It is also beneficial against many other complaints, such as gout and the stone.'
The butler, Thompson, came to pour wine, and Sir Peter raised his glass in a toast. 'To cider! I can also lend you, if you're interested, John Worlidge's Vinetum Britannicum.'
'Yes, I have read that. It was left to my father with a pile of other books, but I'm sure if he had known it dealt with cider making, he'd have forbidden me to read it. He disapproves of strong drink!'
When the next course was served, Sir Peter turned to talk with Caroline, and Sir Bernard grinned at Eve.
'We'll have to have you give talks on cider-making to the Royal Society,' he said.
'Oh, you overheard! Have I been boring?' She looked embarrassed.
'Not at all, Peter must be delighted to have a fellow cider-making enthusiast. Now, tell me, apart from balls and routs and morning calls, what do you want to do in London?'
Eve frowned. 'My father says I must be sure to see St Paul's and Westminster Abbey. I will have to go, he will want to know what I thought of them. But I want to see everything, and I would like to go to the British Museum.'
'We will arrange it. If Amelia does not care to join us, and she has no love of old buildings, I will take you myself.'
Eve glanced across at Amelia, who was laughing at something the Earl had said. He was gazing down at her with a smile in his eyes, and Eve was sure their engagement would be announced soon, perhaps before they went home for Christmas. Lucky Amelia! She wished she had a handsome man like the Earl, who was amiable as well as good looking, in love with her.
Soon afterwards the talk became more informal, and they wondered how the army was doing now they had crossed the Pyrenees. The Earl and Sir Peter had no more information. Sir Peter, Eve discovered, also worked at the War Office, as a translator.
'He puts the rest of us to shame,' the Earl said, 'with his Russian and Hungarian as well as French and German.'
'I have the advantage of a mother who is half Russian and half Hungarian, and I had a German Nanny,' Sir Peter said. 'I learned them all in the nursery, and speak them all far better than the French I learned at Eton.'
Soon afterwards the ladies left the dining room, and Caroline took them up to the drawing room.
'Peter hates not being in the army,' she said as they sat round the fire. 'His father was killed twelve years ago at the battle of Copenhagen, and his older brother at Corunna. His mother was hysterical. She is a somewhat volatile woman – her Russian heritage, I presume. She was begging him to leave the army, as he was now her only child. However, it wasn't at her behest, but that of Ministers, that he came to work in England. We have three men who would rather be in the army than here tonight, but Justin and Peter have to obey orders, and both do extremely valuable work. Justin really is a fine administrator. And Bernard,' she went on, her eyes clouding, 'still has those odd seizures at times, though thank goodness they are coming further and further apart. But they still won't agree to him going back.'
Eve nodded. She had heard about Sir Bernard's condition from Amelia, which she thought had been brought on by a wound to his head a year or so ago, and that was why he was always accompanied by a groom when he went riding or driving, in case one of the seizures caused him to lose consciousness.
The men soon came to the drawing room, and made plans to drive the girls in the Park on the following afternoon. Eve would go with Sir Peter in his curricle, it seemed, while Amelia, shuddering and saying she would be terrified, would be in the Earl's high-perch phaeton.
He laughed. 'It's perfectly safe. You'll love it.'
'We must make some morning visits first,' Caroline said, 'to let people know we are in town, and make sure they invite us to their balls and parties. But while you are out driving I can leave cards with others. And we must fix a date for our own party. Justin, Peter, you must let me know if there are any dates you cannot manage.'
Soon afterwards the visitors left, and Eve retired to bed, to relive the evening. Sir Peter was a friendly acquaintance, and she would enjoy more of his company. She looked forward to seeing the books he had promised to lend her. She hadn't expected to find a fellow cider enthusiast in London, and would enjoy comparing notes on how cider making in Devon might differ from what she knew.
*