They spoke of the weather and the flowers and the trees, they remarked upon the other people who wandered by, they talked of philosophy and literature and music. All the while, Valeria wondered why it could not be as easy to speak to gentlemen that way. If potential suitors talked to her of everything and anything, sharing opinions, she had no doubt she would have been married years ago.
And I would not be relying upon the generosity of friends, petrified for the future, terrified of losing my home and seeing my dear papa in destitution.It kept her awake at night. Her father, too, for she had heard him pacing at all hours when he thought the household was asleep.
“Valery! Beatrice!” a familiar voice cut through the peace of the afternoon, drawing Valeria’s attention to a blanket in the shade of a plane tree.
A group of ladies were gathered upon it, picnicking at their leisure: Isolde, Amelia, Rebecca, Teresa, and Prudence. Where the gentlemen and the two boys were, Valeria did not know, but the sight of her friends cheered her spirits like nothing else.
“At last, we are all together,” Isolde said joyfully, as Valeria and Beatrice settled down onto a spare corner of blanket. “I am so pleased you decided to come to London, after all.”
“Was there any question of it?” Beatrice asked, looking a little worried for a moment.
Amelia smiled. “Valery was in two minds.”
“Because I am such trouble?” Beatrice said with a knowing grin. “My cousin should know, I am only trouble for my parents. I would never dare to cause her distress or be any blight upon her reputation.”
Valeria put her hand on Beatrice’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know that, dear cousin. I was not in two minds because of you—not entirely. It was more to do with accommodations.”
“I cannot understand why your father would sell the townhouse,” Isolde said, shaking her head. “I realize he does not visit London often, but a townhouse in Mayfair is always a grand thing to possess.”
Valeria’s cheeks warmed. “He has always hated excess, and anything deemed unnecessary. I suppose he thought that another family could make better use of it.”
She told her friends everything, but that was one thing she could not bring herself to disclose. If they knew the dire situation shewas in, they would try to remedy it for her, and she refused to take their charity. They had families and concerns of their own; she did not need them worrying over her.
“I think that is very noble,” Amelia said, offering a plate of strawberries to Valeria.
She was about to take one, when a loud buzzing jolted her upright, a blur darting back and forth in front of her face. Yelping loudly, she wafted her hands at the wretched creature, but it would not be dissuaded. The wasp seemed determined to sting her, coming so close she swore she could feel the tiny gust of its beating wings against her face.
She leaped to her feet, batting wildly at the insect, stumbling away from the picnic blanket… and straight into the path of what, at first, she thought was a tree.
A hand caught her by the arm, while a handkerchief whipped out, striking the wasp. The creature fell to the grass, twitching, dazed but alive, and hopefully ready to think twice about stinging unsuspecting ladies.
“Thank you,” Valeria wheezed, turning to discover the identity her savior.
Her eyes widened as she looked upon a reasonably familiar face; his hair even redder than her own, his eyes a pleasant brown, his cheeks dotted with many a freckle. He was half a head taller than her, and slender of build: Roger Grove, the Viscount ofCampbell. A gentleman she had encountered many times over the years, their conversations always brief but friendly.
“Are you well, Miss Maxwell?” Roger asked, his voice concerned.
Valeria recovered quickly. “I believe so.” Ordinarily, she would have left it there, but Duncan’s teachings swept into her head. “Unless, of course, that wicked creature decides to summon friends to teach me a lesson. I fear it will demand a duel now, and I lack the sting to win the strawberry.”
Roger’s brown eyes widened slightly, a smile gracing his lips. “I would gladly take your place, for I am quite adept with a handkerchief.”
“I noticed,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes a little. Testing what she had learned on the first gentleman that had given her the opportunity.
She had always liked Roger well enough, though not in any romantic capacity… but he was there, and she needed the practice. What was the harm in trialing what she had studied with Duncan? Indeed, it could only be to her benefit to make her first attempt with someone familiar instead of a complete stranger.
“Be careful of where you step,” he warned gently, his hand still on her arm, guiding her around the fallen wasp.
She smiled. “Thank you, Lord Campbell. You are too kind.”
“Not at all, Miss Maxwell.” He let go of her arm, staring at her curiously for a moment. “Are you… enjoying the afternoon? It is a pleasant day, is it not?”
Valeria nodded. “Very pleasant indeed. My friends and I were just celebrating the fact that summer has come at last. And you, Lord Campbell? What brings you to the park on this lovely day?”
“I am on my way to a rather dull meeting,” he replied, glancing at the picnickers. “I daresay I would much rather be reveling in the sunshine with friends and good food. Perhaps, another day, I might… join your party?” He hastened to add, “when there are other gentlemen present, of course.”
“Certainly,” she replied. “The more, the merrier.”
He dipped his head. “Well then, I hope to see you again soon. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, and do try not to enrage any more wasps.”
