Chapter 16

“Did I mention that I’ve been given the extreme honor of participating in the Dresden China Quadrille that’s to be held at the first Patriarch Ball of the year?”

Reginald pulled his attention from the snow-covered path down which he’d been steering a rented sleigh, trying to ignore the ache in his head that had started from almost the moment Miss Adele Tooker had taken a seat beside him.

“I don’t believe you have mentioned that yet,” he said, which had Adele launching into a description of the ball in question, barely taking a breath as she discussed the location, which was Delmonico’s again, the people invited, and why she believed Mr. Ward McAllister had chosen her to participate in what was apparently a most desirable quadrille.

While she chattered on and on, his attention began to drift until another sleigh drew up beside him. Giles, his valet, sat behind the reins, his expression somewhat pained, clearly because he’d been given the challenging task of driving Miss Cynthia Roche around Central Park. Cynthia was chattering away quite like Adele was doing, apparently trying to impress Giles, who Charles had let it become known was a man he often sought counsel from—although why he’d done that was a mystery. Giles was now finding himself besieged by young ladies whenever he stepped foot out of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, which had brought a rapid end to his undercover investigation work.

Thankfully, Giles had completed background notes on almost every young heiress out this Season, and it was because of those notes that Charles had suggested the day’s outing to Central Park.

Charles had always been reluctant to believe the worst of anyone. And even though Giles had turned up some less-than-appealing qualities in quite a few of the heiresses, Charles, being Charles, was convinced that ladies like Adele and Cynthia were not the spiteful shrews Giles had heard them to be, so he’d tasked Reginald and Giles with getting to know the ladies better.

“The snow’s beginning to accumulate,” Giles called out. “Think we should call it a day?”

“Don’t be silly,” Adele called back before Reginald could speak. “It’s delightfully refreshing out here.”

Giles pulled down the black cap that was covering his brown hair and pulled up his scarf to where it almost touched his nose. With a significant look to Reginald, one that said the information regarding Adele’s spoiled nature was spot-on, he flicked the reins and set his horse into a canter, the sound of Miss Roche explaining why she was always in high demand drifting after them.

“Where was I?” Adele asked.

“Something about a quadrille?”

And with that, Adele launched into more details regarding the quadrille in question. She didn’t seem to expect Reginald to participate in the conversation, something he was experiencing often of late, what with how he was now gainfully employed as an instructor for over twenty society ladies.

That rather peculiar state of affairs meant that while Charles was off enjoying one frivolity after another, Reginald was traveling from one young lady’s house to the next. Some of those young ladies had even cheerfully abandoned their evenings out once they’d learned his morning and afternoon schedule was full. And while he could certainly appreciate their competitive spirit, their determination to secure a chance at becoming Lady Lonsdale was downright terrifying.

“Ah, there’s Lord Lonsdale and Edith,” Adele exclaimed, waving frantically as Charles drove past them in his sleigh, Miss Edith Iselin sitting beside him.

Of all the society ladies Charles had been spending time with, Edith was the only one who didn’t seem to be trying to impress him. She, unlike Cynthia and Adele, had not clamored to spend the afternoon in the company of Reginald or Giles. She’d not uttered a single protest when Adele had encouraged her to partner up with Charles, and from what Reginald could tell, she’d been spending her time with Charles simply enjoying his company as they’d been sliding over the frozen grounds of Central Park.

Now that Reginald considered the matter, it was somewhat interesting exactly how often Edith was found next to Charles, and it was interesting how Charles never brought her into the conversation whenever he and Reginald met in the Fifth Avenue Hotel to discuss his situation. It was also interesting how Charles rarely asked him about Poppy, even though Reginald was still continuing on with her lessons, but had begun giving her those lessons at the same time he met with Maisie and Helene Leggett.

Self-preservation had been behind his suggestion to combine their lessons, in the hope of keeping his identity from George Van Rensselaer for as long as possible, or at least until he explained to Poppy that he possessed a rather impressive pedigree.

His reluctance to disclose all, though, rested squarely with how he thought society, as well as Poppy, was going to react to the fact he’d not been exactly truthful about who he really was. Society members would certainly feel slighted that he’d withheld his relationship to a duke from them, and they could very well take to slighting not only him but Charles as well, which could see their time spent in New York all for naught.

As for Poppy, she was going to be furious, of that he had no doubt. Frankly, her reaction to his deception was more concerning than society’s reaction. That was exactly why he was putting off revealing what had turned into a very large secret, and why he was currently growing a beard to disguise his appearance, and . . .

“Dear Edith, she looks to be practically frozen, but she’s such a good friend, willing to suffer the elements because I asked her to join us today.”

Shaking all thoughts of Poppy and his beard aside, Reginald turned to Adele, finding her watching Charles’s sleigh with a small smile on her face. That smile dimmed as she glanced Reginald’s way. “I hope Edith won’t be distressed to learn she’s not going to be a participant in the China Quadrille.”

Reginald frowned. “Why not?”

Adele gave an airy wave of her hand. “Because Mr. McAllister left it up to me to decide who was going to have a spot in the quadrille, and I decided to limit the ladies to those in whom I know Lord Lonsdale has shown a specific interest.”

“But he’s with Edith right now.”

Adele released a titter. “Only because Lord Lonsdale wanted you and Giles to spend additional time with me and Cynthia, which does suggest he’s beginning to narrow down his search for an heiress.”

“And you don’t believe Edith is under consideration?”

“I’m afraid not. Edith, although one of my dearest friends, is possessed, unfortunately, of merely passable looks. Since I’m quite convinced a countess is expected to be as lovely as her title, Lord Lonsdale is hardly likely to set his sights on her.” She batted her lashes. “I didn’t include her because I don’t want to set her up for certain disappointment.”

Reginald fought a grimace. “How very . . . magnanimous of you.”

“Wasn’t it though?” she chirped. “I did request that Poppy Garrison be chosen to dance the quadrille, though, because she’s certainly drawn Lord Lonsdale’s interest.” She shook her head. “Granted, she’s not drawn as much interest from Lord Lonsdale as some of the other ladies, since he doesn’t actually seem to spend much time with her, although I have noticed him making a point to greet her whenever they encounter each other at a society event.”

Trepidation was immediate.

Wishing he’d been paying more attention when Adele had been discussing the quadrille, Reginald summoned up a smile. “Tell me more about this quadrille.”

Adele was only too happy to oblige. “Oh, it’s a most spectacular dance, and ever since Alva Vanderbilt had it performed at her grand mansion on Fifth Avenue a few years back, everyone has been hoping it would be included again at one of the balls. I’m pleased to report that, after I convinced Mr. McAllister that the Dresden was a quadrille that demanded to be performed this season, he then convinced Mrs. Astor to choose that quadrille to open the first Patriarch Ball, held the first week of January.”

Reginald frowned. “That doesn’t leave much time to prepare, unless, of course, some of the young ladies you have in mind participated in the Dresden China Quadrille at Alva Vanderbilt’s ball.”

Adele shook her head. “I’m afraid none of the ladies I suggested to Mr. McAllister were even out in society at that time. I certainly wasn’t, although my older sister, Marie, was a participant.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “I well remember watching her practice the intricate steps, and after I saw the elaborate costume she was required to wear, I then began to dream of the day I’d get an opportunity to dance the Dresden. That day, I’m delighted to say, is almost here.”

Ignoring the snow that was now falling in earnest, Reginald considered Adele for a long moment. “I imagine that after you watched your sister learn this particular quadrille you then went about learning the steps as well.”

“I suppose I did at that.”

“And you don’t think that you’ll have an advantage over all the other ladies since you’re already familiar with the steps?”

“I’m certain a few of the ladies I suggested, those being Miss Emily Thorne, Miss Cynthia Roche, and Miss Julia Newberry, are somewhat acquainted with the steps, but it’s not the dance that draws the eye—it’s the costumes we’ll be expected to wear. Made of the snowiest white with flounces cascading down the back, each lady will also be wearing a towering white wig and have her face powdered. That right there is why I felt compelled to give Mr. McAllister the names of every lady who has drawn Lord Lonsdale’s interest, proving that I am, indeed, a lady who believes in embracing a sense of fairness.”

Deciding right then and there that he really didn’t need to spend additional time in Adele’s company since Giles was spot on with believing the lady unworthy of Charles’s attention, Reginald gave another flick of the reins, hoping to catch up with Giles so he could suggest a change of partners.

“Oh, look, Lord Lonsdale seems to be driving his sleigh out of Central Park, and . . .”

Whatever else Adele had been about to say was lost when the sound of a gunshot split the air. Pulling the sleigh to a stop at the entrance to Central Park right as five young lads came running toward him through thick flakes of snow, Reginald watched as the lads split apart and ran separate ways right as a sleigh came racing after them, a lady at the reins.

He could not claim to be overly surprised when that lady turned out to be none other than Poppy.

“Get back here,” he heard her yell as she raced past him, Murray beside her and, curiously enough, laughing heartily as he held on to the side of the sleigh for dear life.

Realizing he couldn’t very well go after them with Adele sitting beside him because he couldn’t put her welfare in jeopardy, he turned to her and nodded.

“Would it be too much to ask you to get out of the sleigh?”

Her mouth dropped open. “You want me to get out of the sleigh?”

“I do, and quickly if you please.”

“Why I never . . .” was all she said to that, but before he could ask her again, Charles suddenly pulled up alongside them.

“Was that Poppy driving that sleigh?” Charles asked.

Reginald nodded. “I’m afraid it was. I need to go after her, so—”

“Adele should get into our sleigh,” Edith said without hesitation, waving Adele over.

Thankfully, Adele didn’t need additional convincing, and thirty seconds later, Reginald was off.

Another gunshot rang out, and because that shot sounded from the direction Poppy had been heading, Reginald turned the sleigh that way, finding it difficult to see the road, what with how the snow was doing its best to blind him.

Peering through the flakes, he pulled on the reins when he caught sight of a sleigh that was tilted at a precarious angle in a ditch, pulling on the reins harder when he saw two bodies lying motionless in the snow.

Fear raced through him as he jumped from his sleigh before it came to a complete stop, that fear turning to temper when Murray sat up and grinned at Poppy, who was now sitting up and grinning back at him.

“Have you lost your mind?” Reginald demanded, sliding his way over to her.

“You seem to ask me that rather frequently,” she replied, wiping snow from her face. “But no, my senses are in fine working order, thank you very much.”

“You’re trying my patience.”

“I don’t know why. You asked me a question and I answered it. It’s not like I ignored you, which, if I had, would be a reason to try your patience.”

Reginald drew in a breath, stepped forward, held out his hand, then hauled Poppy to her feet. “Explain to me, if you please, why you were chasing those lads, and do not tell me you’re the one responsible for those gunshots I heard, because that would be beyond the pale, even for you.”

This time, instead of answering him, Poppy held out a hand to Murray, and while he was struggling to get to his feet, she began looking around. “I’m afraid I might have lost my pistol when the sleigh went careening off the road. Murray, be a dear and help me find it. I don’t believe it would be very responsible if I were to leave it lying out here somewhere. Someone could very well stumble upon it, and, well, the outcome might be distressing.”

“So you did fire that pistol, not Murray?” Reginald asked, earning a surprising roll of a blackened eye from Murray in the process.

“Really, Reginald,” Murray began, “my mother is the type to expect me to take to my bed for an entire week after I’ve suffered a chill. Do you honestly believe she would have ascertained I learn how to handle a pistol?”

Reginald frowned. “You’ve never fired a pistol before?”

“I’ve never even held one,” Murray admitted before he took a few steps forward, bent over, then plucked the missing gun out of the snow, holding it gingerly as he straightened. “They’re much heavier than I expected.”

“Good heavens, Murray, don’t point that at Reginald. You’re likely to shoot him, and then he’ll be annoyed with both of us,” Poppy said, marching her way to Murray and taking the gun from his now-trembling hand. “I believe, what with you already getting rather proficient with handling your new horse, the next lesson I’ll have to teach you is how to use a pistol.” She glanced to Murray’s horse. “How reassuring to learn that Wilbur doesn’t seem to be skittish around loud noises.”

“Is that why you took control of the reins?” Murray asked.

“Of course, but since he’s not skittish, that proves he’s the perfect horse for you, and he’s not nearly as plodding as you feared he was going to be. We were moving at a remarkably fast clip before we slid into the ditch.”

“Which was surprisingly exhilarating,” Murray said, his eyes trained on the pistol Poppy was now wiping free of snow. “But I don’t believe I’d find you teaching me how to shoot as exhilarating.”

“Why not?” Poppy asked as she tucked the pistol inside the reticule that was hanging from her wrist.

“You’re a girl.”

Poppy lifted her head and frowned. “Observant of you to notice, but what does me being a girl have to do with teaching you how to use a pistol? I assure you, I’m more than capable with them.”

“You didn’t take out even one of the criminals we were chasing.”

Poppy’s nose wrinkled. “I wasn’t trying to take out one of those boys, Murray. I shot my pistol in the air the first time to frighten them away from that vendor they were robbing. I then shot it in the air again in the hopes it would frighten them enough to stop their flight so we could then recover whatever goods they’d been able to pilfer.”

“Oh” was Murray’s only response to that before he suddenly squared his shoulders. “Well, even so, you’re not teaching me how to shoot. It won’t help what little reputation I have around town if word gets out a girl is teaching me how to use a firearm.”

“And here I thought we were friends,” Poppy muttered before she threw up her hands and began stomping her way toward the sleigh.

“What’s wrong with her?” Murray asked.

“I imagine she’s annoyed with you for pointing out she’s a girl.”

“She is a girl.”

“Clearly, and with that settled, what say you go and apologize to her for refusing her offer of assistance?”

When Murray refused to budge, Reginald gave him a bit of a push, earning a scowl from Murray in return. Thankfully, though, Murray didn’t continue arguing with him, instead marching his way over to Poppy, who refused to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to insult you by refusing your offer,” Murray began. “But you must admit that normal ladies don’t carry around pistols in their reticules, nor do I believe they’re—”

“You should have stopped while you were ahead,” Reginald muttered as Poppy’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you suggesting I’m not normal?”

“Was that in question?” Murray asked weakly, relief settling over his face when another sleigh took that moment to stop beside them.

“Good heavens, Poppy, have you experienced another mishap?” Adele called out as Charles and Edith jumped from the sleigh and slid their way over to join them.

Poppy ignored Adele’s question as Charles took hold of her hand and gave it a quick kiss. “I trust you’ve not been harmed?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said with a surprising smile, her ability to go from annoyed to perfectly affable leaving Reginald shaking his head. “Murray’s fine as well, although his tumble has apparently left his wits slightly scattered.”

Charles shot a glance to Murray, who shrugged and then wisely chose to direct his attention to trying to tug the sleigh free from the ditch.

Poppy’s smile dimmed as she considered Murray for a moment before she nodded to Charles. “As you can plainly see, my sleigh is stuck, so I’d appreciate your help getting it unstuck.”

Charles blinked. “You want me to help get the sleigh out of the ditch?”

“Of course she does,” Edith answered for him before she grabbed his arm and began tugging him toward the sleigh. “I’ll help as well.”

“I’m not helping,” Adele called.

“Nor would anyone expect you to,” Edith called back, and if Reginald wasn’t mistaken, she rolled her eyes right as Giles rode up in his sleigh to join them, Miss Cynthia Roche still chattering away by his side.

It took a great deal of effort not to grin when Giles gave a roll of his eyes before he pulled the sleigh to a smart start and all but leapt out of it, clearly intent on getting away from Miss Roche, if only for a brief moment.

After Poppy introduced herself to Giles, everyone except Adele and Miss Roche turned to getting the sleigh from the ditch, a feat that took barely a minute to accomplish, what with how many hands were now available to help.

Charles dusted snow from his jacket and smiled. “Well, that’s that. Since it’s snowing harder than ever, may I suggest we get everyone back to their respective homes?”

Reginald refused a sigh when Poppy immediately shook her head.

“I’m afraid Murray and I can’t repair home just yet,” she said.

“We can’t?” Murray asked, stumbling a step backward when Poppy sent him a scowl.

“Surely you must want to check on the welfare of that poor peddler we saw being robbed, don’t you?”

Reginald braced himself when Murray began shaking his head, but when the scowl she was still sending him turned slightly terrifying, his shaking turning into a nod a mere second later.

“Wonderful,” Poppy exclaimed. “And with that settled, if all of you will excuse us, Murray and I need to be on our way.”