Page 44 of Just a Little Daring

“When can you get away?”

“I don’t know, though I’m never allowed out alone,” she replied with a regretful smile, suddenly frustrated by the idea of her brother or some other chaperone dogging her heels. She wanted to be private with August, to spend time with him without someone looking over her shoulder. “But Evie might help me. If we just happened to be there and—”

August grinned at her. “Can you get word to me of when you’ll be there?”

Vivien laughed, breathless now. “Yes. Yes, I’ll find a way.”

“Until tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” she murmured, hardly daring to breathe in case she awoke, and discovered it had all been no more than a lovely dream.

“What do you think? Will you come with me?” Vivien asked.

Evie, still flushed and breathless from her dance, only laughed and nodded. “Of course I shall help. What a daft question.”

“Oh, thank you, Evie.”

Evie only grinned at her. “We shall simply take ourselves off for a stroll. The best time would be in the morning, I suppose, whilst most people are still abed. Do you think you could get out then? My maid will accompany us for propriety. She’s a sweet creature and would never tattle on me unless I did something truly dreadful.”

“Well, if you come and call for me? I shall be up early, and hope Mama doesn’t insist on a chaperone if you’re with me. Ash is never up before eleven, even on a good day, certainly not after a ball. But if I can get away, how shall we get word to August, though, to let him know?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Monsieur Le Comte will do that,” Evie said blithely.

“Will I indeed?” Murmured a low voice.

Evie turned to discover Louis César behind her. He held out a glass of lemonade for her.

“I thought you might be thirsty after your exertions, Miss Knight. But, pray, what is it you wish of me? Should I slay a dragon? Complete les travaux d'hercule? You need but name it. I am your servant.”

“Foolish man,” she said, laughing and accepting the glass of lemonade. “The labours of Hercules will not be necessary. Only, I wish you to help us. Miss Anson wishes to walk in the park tomorrow with Mr Lane-Fox, but without her brother or a chaperone, so they can speak privately. We think she can get away in the morning but won’t know for certain until then.”

“You mean you wish me to awaken early?” Louis said, widening his eyes as if this was a far greater sacrifice than Hercules had endured.

Evie rolled her eyes at him. “I thought you were ready to slay dragons for me?”

He waved this away. “Ah, and so I did. Mais alors, if this is what you ask of me, I will, of course, assist in any way I can and forgo my beauty sleep.” His blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“I should think foregoing your beauty sleep would be a public service,” Evie replied tartly. “If you get any handsomer, you’ll cause a riot one of these days.”

Louis pressed a hand to his heart. “Ah, and she notices me at last. I may swoon.”

Evie tutted, shaking her head. “Well, don’t swoon just yet. I’m still thirsty. Would you escort me to the refreshments room for another drink, please?”

Louis held out his arm to her. “With the greatest of pleasure. Until the morning, Miss Anson.”

“I’ll call just before ten, Viv. Don’t keep me waiting,” Evie said, winking at her before Louis César bore her away.

Chapter 15

My Lady,

I was never more surprised and delighted to receive a gift. And such a gift it was, too. A small pot of greasy ointment that smelled so appallingly bad, I almost retched. I assume this is a token of your regard, in which case I am not entirely sure how to take it. I believe I shall conclude that you were worried to death for my wellbeing, that you could not sleep for your anxiety that I might suffer the slightest discomfort, that you cried into your pillow when you remembered my heroic behaviour.

In which case, my lady, I am most appreciative of your delightful unguent.

Having applied it tenderly to my many bruises, I must report it to be most efficacious. Though it renders me confined to my room in case I am ejected from the hotel or come to the attention of the neighbourhood’s hungry dogs. They could hardly miss me.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Hon’ble Mr Sylvester Cootes to Lady Aisling Baxter (Daughter of the Right Hon’ble Luke and Kitty Baxter, the Earl and Countess of Trevick).