Elizabeth was nonplussed. “Must I meet her, Aunt?” she pleaded. “I beg you to excuse me.”
“Certainly not. She is one of my oldest friends, and she will wish to make your acquaintance. To refuse would show a lack of breeding.”
“Yes, I suppose it would.” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You haven’t done so, my love. Wentworth won’t be a thorn in your flesh for long. When the refit of the Artemis is completed he will be off to sea again. Meantime, his mother will keep him fully occupied. She is anxious to see him wed.”
Elizabeth was startled. “Why is that?” she demanded.
“Do you find it wonderful? Most parents wish to see their children happily settled, I believe.”
“I thought you disliked matchmaking mamas, Aunt Mary.”
“I don’t class the Countess with them. She will look beyond money and a title. In fact, the girl she has in mind for Wentworth is as poor as a church-mouse, or so I am informed.”
“I wish her joy of him!” Elizabeth snapped. “No, I don’t mean that! Oh dear, I am becoming such a crosspatch...”
“You are tired, my dear. Rest now. Our guests will not arrive for several hours.”
This excellent advice went unheeded. Elizabeth found it impossible to rest.
To imagine Perry in the arms of another woman was more than she could bear. The idea had come as a shock to her. Yet the Dowager Countess of Brandon must have many friends, all of them with charming and biddable daughters. One or other of them must find favour in Perry’s eyes. At his mother’s urging, her youngest son would doubtless be persuaded to offer for the first delightful creature who took his fancy.
Behind the unwelcome thought lay another, deeper dread. The Artemis could not lie at Portsmouth docks for ever. Perry would receive orders to report back to his ship. Then he would be gone, to face all the dangers of battle.
She buried her face in her hands. He must not go away believing that she hated him. She must make amends. There was still time for that. Nothing...nothing he said in future would persuade her to fly out at him.
She lay back upon the day-bed, and closed her eyes. Luck had been against her from the start, she thought sadly. Since that fateful night in Genoa, everything had conspired to give Perry a dislike of her. Now it was unlikely that he would ever change his mind.
As her aunt had predicted, the rest restored her to better spirits. They lifted even further with the arrival of a long-delayed letter from her father.
Mr Grantham sent fond love to both his sister and Elizabeth. He also enclosed a letter of authorisation to his London bankers, advising them that there must be no limit upon Elizabeth’s drawings for anything she might need.
He was happy to say that his wife was much improved in health, as he was himself. This he ascribed, in large part, to the knowledge that Elizabeth must, by now, be safe in England.
Elizabeth was moved to protest. “My father could not be sure of that. There has been no time for my letter to reach him.”
“He seems to have great faith in Wentworth’s capabilities,” Miss Grantham murmured. “Perhaps some British ship has docked at Genoa, bringing the news that the Artemis is safely come to Portsmouth.”
Elizabeth scanned the closely written sheets. “Yes, that is so!” Her lips curved in a smile of deep affection. “Dear Papa! Here he begs my forgiveness for his actions...as if I ever could think ill of him.” She read on, then her colour deepened.
“Yes, my dear?” her aunt said encouragingly. “Is that all?”
“Not quite! He mentioned Perry...Mr Wentworth... I am to thank him for his care of me, and bid him remember my father’s words. Oh, Aunt Mary, I can’t do that!”
“Why not, my love?” Miss Grantham composed her features into an expression of surprise.
“Ma’am, I did explain. Papa tried to force Perry into...into offering for me.” Elizabeth blushed deeply.
“Force? I can’t imagine it, my dear. That would be unlike your father. He may have suggested something of the kind, perhaps in desperation? It was a foolish idea. Young men prefer to choose their partners for themselves.”
Elizabeth was much struck by this remark. “You think that is why he refused?”
“What else? You were strangers to each other, but you are no antidote, my dear. You won’t believe that he refused because you have two heads, or a third eye in the middle of your forehead?”
Elizabeth smiled. “No, I don’t think that. It’s just that he dislikes me, and has done so from the first.”
Miss Grantham forebore to marvel at the truth of the saying that love was blind.
“We must give him credit for one thing...”
“And what is that?”
“Clearly your fortune does not weigh with him. Many a younger son would have conquered his reluctance in the knowledge that you will be a wealthy woman.”
“I doubt if he knows of it,” Elizabeth told her stiffly.
“Possibly not. It cannot matter, as we are agreed, I think, that you and Wentworth would not suit.”
Elizabeth was silent.
“Now, my love, while you were resting, your purchases arrived from Bond Street. I have told Bessie that she may unpack them.”
“Shall you like to see them, Aunt?” Elizabeth was glad of the diversion.
The old lady nodded her approval as she slipped on a pelisse of French merino cloth, trimmed with braid. The matching bonnet was audaciously seductive, with its curtailed poke and curling feathers.
“Do you think it too outrageous?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.
“Not at all! It becomes you well.” Privately, Miss Grantham considered that this was an understatement. With her oval face framed by the dashing little bonnet, Elizabeth looked lovelier than ever.
“And these?” Her niece held up two filmy muslin gowns. “Mrs Dalloway says that they are all the rage for evening wear. She reads The Lady’s Magazine or Entertaining Companion for the Fair Sex to keep her up-to-date.”
Miss Grantham’s lips twitched as she fingered the thin fabric. “Dear me! Fully clad, your clothing is unlikely to weigh more than a couple of pounds.”
“She says that it is the classical influence... flowing draperies and such. You don’t think them indecent?”
“Not if you wear an under-shift, my dear. I suppose we might lay in a supply of linctus against inflammation of the lungs.”
Elizabeth giggled. “They are cut rather low in the bosom,” she admitted. “But I bought a stole to wear about my shoulders.”
“And some walking dresses, I hope? The classical influence is well enough in its way, but the weather in Greece is somewhat warmer than it is in England.”
“I thought of that.” Elizabeth picked up a gown of heavy cambric, trimmed with frills of broad-lace. “This has a matching spencer. That is a jacket, you know, which is worn for extra warmth.”
“Doubtless you will need it. I’ve known it to snow here as late as June.”
“Is that true? Perry said as much, but I didn’t believe him. I’ve only seen snow in the distant mountains.”
“That is the best place for it. Here in town it is soon churned up by the carriages. Then it becomes a mass of grey slush, and galoshes must be worn.”
Dismayed, Elizabeth gazed at her satin demi-boots with yellow gilt buttons, and another pair in rose-pink printed kid with loops and ties of silk ribbon.
“Will these be stout enough?” She pointed to a heavier pair in black morocco leather, with uppers of grey silk.
“They will serve if you wear protectors over them. Now, what will you wear today for Lady Brandon’s visit?”
The decision was a difficult one. Must it be the charming sprigged muslin with tiny puff sleeves, or the high-necked gown of French worked cambric with the double flounce and rows of tucks? The pink silk was more suitable for evening wear, as were the half-dresses intended to be worn over slips of satin.
At length, after much deliberation, Elizabeth settled for a round robe in Pomona green. It was simple, but cut with such exquisite skill that it was clearly the work of the best modiste in London. Puffed at the shoulders, the long tight sleeves ended at the wrist with rows of tiny buttons.
The straight line of the drapery, falling from beneath the bosom, made her look taller, though she wished that the prevailing fashion for low edge heels or none at all had not robbed her of the opportunity to use her shoes to give her height.
It was mortifying to be so very small, but the gown was elegant, and no one would mistake her for a schoolroom miss, an impression which she wished most particularly to avoid.
And during these last few weeks her hair had grown, she thought with satisfaction. It still gave her the look of a Botticelli cherub, but in time she might wear it in a classical knot. It would give her the sophisticated appearance for which she longed. She’d often envied it in older women.
Yet sophistication was not the word which came to mind when she was introduced to Perry’s mother.
The Dowager Countess of Brandon was dressed with such simplicity that Elizabeth was surprised. A second glance told her that the lady’s garments were cut to perfection.
She smiled as she walked towards Elizabeth, holding out both her hands.
“At last, my dear!” she exclaimed in a low, musical voice. “Perry has told me so much about you...”
Elizabeth avoided Perry’s eyes.
“May I present you to my daughter-in-law, Lady Wentworth? Prudence, this is Elizabeth Grantham.”
The Dowager Countess was so tall that Elizabeth had not noticed the girl behind her, but now her ladyship came forward with an unaffected smile.
“I hope we shall be friends,” she said. “I hear that you spent many weeks aboard the Artemis, with only Perry and Chris for company. Such a trial for you! Don’t you agree, Mama?”
The Countess smiled. “A dreadful ordeal!” she agreed. “My dear, how did you cope with them?”
“Ma’am, they were very kind...” Elizabeth did not dare look at Perry.
“But the two of them together?” Prudence cried in mock amazement. “Why, mischief is their middle name! Someday I will tell you of their goings-on. Perry was always ready for a lark. I doubt if he has changed.”
Perry was moved to speak at last. “Pru, you might have mercy on me,” he protested. “I’ve been trying to convince these ladies that I am a sober-sides.”
“You won’t succeed. I imagine that they already have your measure.” She laughed aloud.
Elizabeth joined in the general amusement. She felt drawn at once to Lady Wentworth. This vivid, vital girl didn’t look old enough to be the mother of two sons.
Prudence was no beauty, but there was a strangely arresting quality about her face, which was intriguing. It was hard to place, though it owed much to the light in the wonderful hazel eyes, her fine bone structure and the curving lines of that mobile, wilful mouth.
A lady of strong character, Elizabeth decided. Prudence would be a staunch friend, or an implacable enemy.
Now she was laughing up at Perry, pretending to beg his forgiveness for her forthright words. There seemed to be such easy camaraderie between them, and suddenly Elizabeth felt like an intruder.
Prudence sensed it at once, and drew Elizabeth into their conversation.
“Will you forgive us for our nonsense, Miss Elizabeth? Perry has been my friend for some long time, though he does naught but tease me. Now I have paid him out by making him an uncle once again. I know it makes him feel like a greybeard.”
A general ripple of amusement followed this sally. Then Prudence made a suggestion, intended to give the two older ladies the opportunity for a private chat.
“Miss Grantham, will you think me forward if I ask to see your laboratory? If you allow it, we shall be very careful.”
“It is scarce a laboratory, my dear, though the shelves hold some specimens. Elizabeth will show you...” She bestowed a smile on Prudence, aware of the tact involved in the suggestion.
As the door closed behind the three young people, she looked at the Dowager Countess.
“Well, Jane, will they do?” she asked.
“I believe so. Elizabeth is delightful. You must have guessed that Perry is head over ears in love. As you can imagine, I couldn’t wait to meet her. He speaks of nothing else, yet he says that she won’t have him.”
“You know the circumstances?”
“Some of them, at least. I think he has not told me all.”
“We must give her time. She loves him, too. It is her pride which is keeping them apart.”
The Countess gave her a quizzical look. “I can believe it. Perry isn’t noted for his tact but he thinks the world of her. She is very lovely, though it is not that which has impressed him. He told me of their journey. Poor child! I thought she must have been afraid, but he says that she was not.”
A grim smile answered her. “I doubt if she’d fear the devil himself. I could scarce believe that she had gone among the wounded as she did. My brother kept her sheltered.”
“As your father did with you?” The Dowager Countess chuckled. “My dear Mary, blood will out! Even as a girl you surprised us all.”
“Stuff! I could not bear to be a milksop. And that awful Season! I did not take, you know.”
“I think you never wanted to, did you? When one’s heart is given already...”
Mary Grantham looked at her friend, and when it came, her smile was painful. “You knew? Strange, but it seems like yesterday, though it was fifty years ago. He was killed in the American colonies.”
“My dear, it has been hard for you. Have you found happiness at last?”
“I am content.” Miss Grantham shook her grizzled head as if to clear it of sad memories. “Now, Jane, what are we to do?”
“You are sure of Elizabeth’s feelings?”
“Certainly. Perry has no idea?”
“None! He thinks himself sunk beneath reproach in Elizabeth’s eyes.”
The two ladies smiled at each other, in perfect agreement as to the folly of the young.
“It was unfortunate,” Miss Grantham admitted. “The whole thing has been mishandled from the start. Perry was pressured into offering for her not once, but twice. I pointed out that it must go against the grain for any man of spirit, but she feels rejected.”
“But now, when it is his dearest wish to wed her?”
“She would not believe him, Jane. She is convinced that he dislikes her. They quarrel constantly...”
“I understand,” the Countess said drily. “Perry was always a hothead where his emotions are concerned.” She rested her cheek upon one slender hand. “I shall speak to Prudence. Perry has adored her since the day they met. She will think of something.”
“You think so highly of her?”
“I do, indeed, my dear. To see her now you would not think it, but her early life was passed in conditions that neither you nor I could well imagine. Orphaned at birth, she was thrown upon a parish in the north, and forced to work in a cotton mill.”
“Sebastian’s wife? You cannot mean it!”
“Sadly, it is true. Until she was seventeen, she thought herself a bastard. She was running away when Sebastian found her, and brought her down to Kent. Then we discovered her true parentage...”
Miss Grantham looked a question.
“Yes, she is both well-born and legitimate. You will forgive me if I don’t say more. I won’t speak ill of the dead, and it is just history now.”
“Jane, you are to be congratulated. Both your sons are undeceived by outward appearance. They have chosen women of character.”
The Countess smiled faintly. “I could wish that Frederick had done the same. You have not met Amelia?”
Miss Grantham shook her head. Then a glance of perfect understanding passed between them.
“Why not bring Elizabeth to the ball which Frederick is to give in Grosvenor Square next week?”
“Jane, you know how I feel about such gatherings. It’s kind of you to suggest it, but I haven’t attended one for years.”
“Then it’s high time you did. Elizabeth must be considered, and I am asking for your support. Do say that you won’t refuse...”
Miss Grantham wrinkled her nose and grimaced. “My dear Jane, times have changed. You won’t be exposed to the odour of unwashed humanity. Society actually bathes these days, since the advent of the Macaronis.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” her friend said with feeling. “In my girlhood the stench was sometimes more than I could bear. Those exquisites were not just fashionable fribbles, then?”
“Their fashions were ridiculous, but they were clean.”
“Very well, you have convinced me. Brandon is a sensible man. I’d like to hear from his own lips if the Government is worried about revolution spreading to this country.”
“And Perry will have an opportunity to make his peace with Elizabeth,” the Countess observed slyly.
Unaware of the plans being made on their behalf, Perry and Elizabeth were standing either side of Prudence in Miss Grantham’s study.
“Heavens, how grisly!” Prudence eyed the specimens with distaste. “They would give me nightmares. I believe I’d rather see the garden. Let us leave Perry to improve his mind. I want to hear what you’ve been doing since you came to London.”
Elizabeth gave her a suspicious look. Was she to be quizzed about her time aboard the Artemis? The Dowager Countess might have suggested questions which she did not care to ask herself.
At first, she answered only in monosyllables. Then Prudence turned to face her squarely.
“Don’t you feel that you can trust me?” she asked in her forthright way. “I’m not a spy for anyone, but you don’t seem quite at ease.”
“I’m not!” Elizabeth was equally blunt. “You may think me foolish, but you and the Countess can have no high opinion of me...”
“We think you very beautiful. As to the rest...we do not know you well, but that is easily remedied.”
Her friendly manner was encouraging, but Elizabeth turned away.
“I didn’t mean that. My aunt informs me that in Society there are strict rules as to conduct... and...well...I travelled on the Artemis without a chaperon.”
This worthy attempt at honesty brought a peal of laughter from her companion.
“Great heavens, is that all? I almost went to sea myself, you know, but I was the victim of a press-gang.”
“Oh, no! I won’t believe it! Women are not impressed—”
“I was dressed as a boy,” Prudence told her blithely.
“But why?” Elizabeth was round-eyed with astonishment.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it some time. I thought Sebastian loved someone else, so I decided to run away. I can’t remember where now, but I think it was to Australia.”
“Alone?”
“I had a young friend with me. Dan was twelve or thirteen at the time.” Lost in thought, Prudence wound her finger about a curling feather in her bonnet. “It all seems so long ago.”
Elizabeth looked at her with new respect. Prudence could be no more than five years older than herself. To all outward appearance she might be any young and fashionable young matron, yet there was a will of iron beneath the surface, and Elizabeth sensed it.
“I should not have doubted you,” she murmured. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”
“Plotting some mischief, are you?” Perry had wandered out to join them. “One woman is bad enough, but when two get their heads together...?”
Elizabeth looked up, saw the twinkle in his eyes, and caught her breath. It wasn’t fair. He had no right to be so handsome. When he looked as he did now, teasing, chaffing, and in the greatest good humour, it was impossible to resist his charm.
“We’ll leave the mischief to you,” Prudence replied. “You are something of a hand at it. We had best return indoors. Your mother will be wondering what has become of us.”
But Miss Grantham and the Dowager had not missed them. Their talk was all of the forthcoming ball.
Elizabeth gave her aunt a look of enquiry, but Miss Grantham was all smiles.
“Thanks to the Macaronis, and their notions, I am promised that I shall smell nothing more noxious than powders, perfumes and pomades. Such a relief, my dears, I have a nose for odours.”
Elizabeth was mystified. “The Macaronis? What are they? In Italy, macaroni is a food...”
“And the Macaronis were the food of legend.” Perry grinned at her. “Dandies to a man! Their wigs alone were the size of beehives, and they carried huge bouquets.”
“But they were obsessed by cleanliness,” his mother interjected, with a significant look at her hostess.
“Spotless!” Perry agreed. “Where are they now, I wonder?”
“Transformed into worthy grandpapas, I should imagine.” The Countess rose to take her leave. “Until next Thursday, then?” She bent to kiss her friend. “Come, my dears, Frederick and Sebastian will be waiting!”
As the sound of their carriage faded into the distance, Elizabeth looked at her aunt.
“Shall you mind attending this ball, ma’am? If it is something you dislike...?”
“Not at all, my dear. I must not become a hermit. Besides, the Earl of Brandon is at the heart of Government. I shall be glad to speak to him.”
Elizabeth was doubtful. She suspected that Miss Grantham was considering her niece’s pleasure.
“How good you are!” she said impulsively. “I fear I don’t deserve it.”
“Why not, my love?”
“Sometimes I am out of reason cross. Have I been a trial to you?”
“Not yet, Elizabeth. Tell me, how did you like our visitors?”
“Very much! The Countess is not at all what I expected. I feared she would be very grand.”
“Jane is a dear. When we were girls we were much in each other’s company.” Her eyes lit up with a smile of reminiscence. “And Prudence?”
“I thought her fascinating. She told me something of her early life. I could scarce believe it.”
“Yet Jane assures me that it’s true. You are not the only girl to have adventures, you see.”
“Hers were truly dreadful...much, much worse than mine. She made me feel ashamed to be so missish.”
“Missish? I do not find you so. My dear, I’m happy that you have made a friend today.”
“Lady Wentworth said that I might call her Prudence, ma’am.” Elizabeth twinkled at her aunt. “She thinks it a misnomer.”
“I don’t doubt it. She is such a vital creature. I liked her open manner.”
She looked at Elizabeth’s rosy face, still flushed with the pleasure of the visit. It was little short of a miracle that the child had turned out so well, reared, as she had been, without friends of her own age. Over-protected as she had been, and with only the company of her elderly father and his sick wife, she could have had little to amuse her.
Then she remembered certain of her ancestors and she began to chuckle.
“What is it, Aunt?”
“I was thinking of our own history. Someday, I will tell you the story of the distaff side. There is a certain curious streak of individuality which appears at intervals in the ladies of the Grantham family.”
Elizabeth could well believe it. She had not, in the past, met anyone remotely like her aunt.
“Now, my dear, will you forgive me if I leave you? I have done no work today upon my treatise.” With that Miss Grantham disappeared, and Elizabeth was left to her own devices until the supper-hour.
She had much to occupy her mind. In the company of his family she’d seen Perry in a different light. He’d seemed so easy, and so full of fun. But behind the laughter there was something in his eyes.
She’d seen it when he joined them in the garden. She’d turned and caught him unawares, to find that there was a certain glow in his expression which she found hard to understand. She might have thought it tenderness had she not known better. She shook her head. She must have imagined it. She was allowing her own longing to deceive her.
Yet when he spoke his voice had been almost a caress. Could it be that he was changing his opinion of her? A tiny flicker of hope stirred in her heart.
He had kissed her once, but that was long ago. Perhaps he had forgotten it, but she had not. How could she? The memory of his lips, warm and demanding, were imprinted on her heart for ever. Such thoughts were deeply disturbing. She rang the bell for Bessie.
“I haven’t been paying much attention,” she announced. “Did you unpack all my purchases?”
“Yes, miss. See, each drawer is labelled. Gloves and stockings in here, scarves and shawls in the one below, and your underthings in the top.” Bessie fingered the contents of that particular drawer with loving fingers. “This gauze petticoat weighs no more than a cobweb...”
Then she hesitated. “Miss Elizabeth, shall you wear these pantalettes? Some folk consider them immodest.”
“They are the latest fashion,” Elizabeth told her firmly. “See, they are trimmed with lace, and very pretty.”
“But, miss, they are divided...like trousers.”
“I can’t help that. I must wear something, after all, and next week, Bessie, I am to attend a ball.”
This exciting prospect banished all else from Bessie’s mind. “Have you decided what to wear?” she asked.
“Not yet. I had best look through my gowns again.”
This task kept Elizabeth occupied until she heard the dinner-gong. She was torn between an entrancing toilette consisting of an over-dress of spider-gauze, to be worn over a slip of plain white satin, or a pink silk decorated with the serrated trimming known as “Dents de loup’. The teeth of a wolf seemed an odd description for the fine embroidery, but the cut of the garment was flawless, though the décolletage was very low.
“Is it too revealing?” Elizabeth studied her reflection in the mirror, concerned by the expanse of milky skin, and the way the bodice exposed the upper curve of her rounded breasts.
“No, miss! How lucky you are! You don’t need false bosoms.”
Elizabeth was amused. She might appear half-naked, if she would forgo the immodesty of pantalettes. Still, she was undecided. Perhaps none of the gowns were suitable for the Earl of Brandon’s ball.
A second shopping expedition seemed to be indicated, if she could persuade Mrs Dalloway to accompany her again. Then the humour of the situation struck her. For a girl who claimed to have no interest in the opinion of the ton, she was behaving like an idiot.
It was all self-delusion. She did not care about the ton. Perry’s opinion was all that mattered. She wanted to look her best for him alone.
Suddenly, she felt bereft. It was only hours since she had seen him, but she missed him quite dreadfully.
Not for the first time she bewailed her hasty tongue and her quick temper. Why had she told him that she would not drive with him again? Now she must wait until the evening of the ball and on that occasion there would be no opportunity to speak to him alone.
Her hopes were raised next day. At the sound of carriage wheels she hurried to the window to find Chris at the reins of a smart racing curricle, with Perry up beside him.
She flew down the staircase on winged feet. Then she forced herself to a more decorous pace. It would not do to appear too eager.
“There you are, my love! Here is Wentworth come with an invitation for you.” Miss Grantham held out a note.
“My mother is getting up an expedition to Kew Gardens,” Perry explained. “We are to take a picnic. Shall you care to join us?” His eyes were pleading.
“Tomorrow?” Her heart sank. She was promised to her aunt. Miss Grantham was most particularly anxious to attend a lecture upon anaesthesia.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice made cold by disappointment. “We have another engagement.”
Perry’s face fell. She had not forgiven him for his outburst. He felt wretched. All his efforts seemed to be in vain. He would never win her. Another engagement? He didn’t doubt it. Doubtless, some suitor had persuaded her into looking upon him kindly.
It was Miss Grantham who took pity on him.
“You may make your choice, Elizabeth,” she said briskly. “You must decide between the joys of a learned discourse upon the relief of pain, or a picnic by the river.” She managed to hide a smile.
“I will go with you, Aunt.”
“No, you won’t, you foolish child! The fresh air will do you good.”
“Do you mean it, Aunt Mary? I did promise, but...well...I might not understand the finer points of the discussion.”
Miss Grantham looked grave. “That is certainly a consideration. Let us agree that you will go to Kew.”
“Oh, thank you! I have always wanted to see the gardens.”
This information came as news to Miss Grantham, since Elizabeth had not mentioned it before, but she nodded and turned her attention to Lord Christopher.
That gentleman was not lacking in social graces.
“I hear that your group has been discussing the possibility of finding a safe method of anaesthesia, ma’am?”
“You are interested?” The old lady gave him a sharp look, wondering if he’d made the enquiry merely from politeness.
“Naturally! What a godsend it would be to all our wounded! At present we have only laudanum to ease their suffering. When that runs out, we resort to getting them drunk enough to bear the pain of amputations...”
Elizabeth shuddered, but his words were enough to launch Miss Grantham upon one of her favourite topics.
Under cover of the discussion, Perry turned to Elizabeth. “You didn’t mean it, did you? Forbidding me to call on you, I mean...?”
“I thought you had called upon my aunt,” she replied in a demure tone.
“Well, I did, of course, but the invitation to Kew was meant for you.”
“It was kind of Lady Brandon to wish to include me in her party. A pic-nic? What is that? It is unknown in Italy.”
“We eat out-of-doors, sitting on the grass. It isn’t a formal occasion.”
“Is it not early in the year for that? Perhaps this is the custom here in England?”
Perry gave her his heart-stopping smile. “It may be fine tomorrow, but I don’t really care. Elizabeth, I wanted to apologise...to tell you that I had no right to speak out as I did. May we not be friends again?”