Page 88 of The Muse of Maiden Lane

The answer appeared to satisfy Captain Blunt in some small way that Teddy wasn’t a dangerous fiend preparing to drive Stella straight to ruin. “Mr. Finchley is an excellent fellow,” he said. “My wife and I are both acquainted with him.”

“He’s a first-rate gentleman, I agree.” Teddy looked to Stella. His mouth tugged into a smile. “I trust you’re ready for our drive?”

“Indeed.” Stella turned to Mrs. Blunt and her husband. “If you don’t object?”

“What manner of gig are you driving, Mr. Hayes?” Captain Blunt asked brusquely. “A curricle?”

“A wagonette,” Teddy said. “It’s an open carriage.”

“And your horse? Not too wild, I trust.”

“Quite the opposite. Samuel would rather doze than take the bit between his teeth.”

“Where are you bound for? Hyde Park?”

“Covent Garden. We’ll be back within the hour.”

Stella flashed Mrs. Blunt a meaningful look.

Mrs. Blunt slipped her hand through her husband’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, my love.”

“I’ll take care of her, sir,” Teddy promised them both. “You may rest assured.”

Captain Blunt withdrew his pocket watch. He made a point of checking the time. “I’ll expect Miss Hobhouse back by three o’clock.”

“Of a certainty,” Teddy said. “Miss Hobhouse? Shall we?”

“Yes, indeed,” Stella said.

Moments later, she and Teddy were seated in the front of his wagonette, with Jennings and Teddy’s wheeled chair firmly ensconced in the back.

Teddy gave Stella an interested glance as he started his horse. “Captain Blunt is rather protective of you.”

Stella rested a hand on the seat between them. Her skirts were bunched against the outside of Teddy’s leg, just as they’d been during their sleigh ride. “Only because he promised my brother he’d look after me,” she said. “And only because I’m a close friend of his wife. I do believe he’d pave the moon if Julia asked him to. Theirs was a love match, you see.”

Teddy had gathered as much from the way Captain Blunt and his wife had looked at each other.

“They were married last summer,” Stella said. “Indeed, all of my friends have recently married. Anne’s wedding was only last week.”

“I saw mention of it in the papers. It sounded like a grand affair.”

“The grandest. The Countess of Arundell does nothing by halves.” Stella gazed out at the afternoon traffic. Carriages and omnibuses passed in a clatter of wooden wheels and steel-shod hooves.

Teddy moved easily among them, Samuel completely unfazed by the encroaching traffic. Teddy himself was somewhat less sanguine. He was still thinking of the row he’d had with his sister and Alex. Of that dratted ultimatum Alex had given him and what it would mean for Teddy’s plans to paint Stella.

Granted, it wasn’t as if Alex would put Teddy onto the steamer against his will. Things hadn’t yet stooped to that level. All Alex had done was give Teddy a choice. A false choice, to be sure, but a choice all the same. Teddy could either accompany them back to France, thereby keeping the peace, or he could remain in London, both breaking Laura’s heart and imperiling her health—and the health of her child—in the process.

What was a devoted brother to do? A brother who desperately wanted his freedom?

The only gentlemanly solution was to temporarily acquiesce to the Finchleys’ guardianship. Teddy would stay with them for the next several months. They wouldn’t interfere with his work, he knew. They were sensible people, and sensitive as well.

That didn’t make the prospect of their chaperonage any less irksome. Teddy recoiled from it on principle.

“Tell me about your studio,” Stella said. “It’s in Covent Garden, you said?”

“In Maiden Lane.”

She furrowed her brow. “Maiden Lane? I can’t recall—”