he’s quite funny and so nice to me! I’m not used to it.”
“I imagine it would be easy to get used to.”
“Yes, if I’d not acted such an idiot. Don’t you see? After Mitford died I may have acted a little fast , but it wasn’t until I mixed myself up with Viscount Vickers that I made a serious mistake. I’m afraid, Addy! Afraid to enjoy this new life when a word from him could snatch it away.” She pounded the arm of her chair in frustration. “And for what? So he could hear the gossip from Princess Charlotte’s household? And what could a contact amongst the Queen’s ladies do for a man like him? It all seems so pointless—yet it could ruin me!”
Addy was aghast. “Pointless, but dangerous, Rosamond! You know how touchy the Regent is about such matters. You must never tell anyone that you took part in such scheming!”
“No, of course not. I’m sorry to frighten you.” Rosamond sighed. “I’m just so frustrated.”
“Of course you are.”
Her cousin stood. “I think I’ll take a walk to clear my head.” She gripped Addy’s shoulder. “Just be careful, dear. It’s so easy to make a mistake.”
“I will. Thank you, Rosamond.”
She began to pace once she was alone. She must tell Vickers. Rosamond’s misery had her hesitating, though. Yet this could be important for him to know—and he had promised to keep Rosamond’s name clear.
Resolute, she went to the front parlor, but didn’t see anyone within sight of the house. A sudden thought sent her to the back. Yes. There, perched on the top of the garden fence, sat the girl, Francis, petting a disreputable-looking cat. She hopped down when she spied Addy and ran up to hand her a note.
The Swan. Confectioners on Jermyn Street.
“Ask for Madame’s special,” Francis advised. “It’s delicious.”
“I will.” Addy grinned at the girl. “And I’ll bring you one, too, shall I?”
The chit swept her a creditable curtsy. “Thank you, ever so much.”
She smiled as she returned inside to fetch her bonnet and call for the carriage.
***
The Swan was a charming shop, its glass case filled with delightful-looking temptations and its few small tables empty at this hour. Once more Addy was escorted to a private room, this one with a good-sized desk at the center. Vickers sat there, waiting, along with a teacart laden with colorful creations.
Addy rolled her eyes. “After this, I’m going to be shocked every time I enter a small room and do not find you there.”
He grinned. “How many small rooms do you normally frequent?”
“I don’t know . . . cloak rooms, dressing rooms, antechambers.”
“And you’ll be expecting me in all those places?”
“Regrettably.”
“I like the idea.” He gestured for her take a seat. “In any case, I did say I knew all the good spots.”
“So you did.” She sat, unsure in a way she’d never yet felt with him.
“Hestia sent this.” He slid another packet across the desk.
She took it, but didn’t open it. The idea of living alone had begun to lose its appeal.
“Would you care for a pastry?”
She summoned a smile. “Francis says I must try Madame’s special.”
“The girl has good taste.” He served her, selecting a beautiful, cream filled baked masterpiece shaped like a swan.
She toyed with it. “Would you mind . . . would you tell Hestia that I’d like to meet with her?”
He paled. “Of course. If I’ve offended you—”
“No!” She stopped him. “It’s just that she has a unique perspective.” She pulled out the package she’d brought. “Also, would you deliver this? It’s just a book of children’s stories. I put it together for Muriel and made a copy, as I thought there might sometimes be children at Half Moon House.”
“Indeed there are.” He took it up. “How wonderful.”
“The illustrations are simple. It’s not
“I imagine it would be easy to get used to.”
“Yes, if I’d not acted such an idiot. Don’t you see? After Mitford died I may have acted a little fast , but it wasn’t until I mixed myself up with Viscount Vickers that I made a serious mistake. I’m afraid, Addy! Afraid to enjoy this new life when a word from him could snatch it away.” She pounded the arm of her chair in frustration. “And for what? So he could hear the gossip from Princess Charlotte’s household? And what could a contact amongst the Queen’s ladies do for a man like him? It all seems so pointless—yet it could ruin me!”
Addy was aghast. “Pointless, but dangerous, Rosamond! You know how touchy the Regent is about such matters. You must never tell anyone that you took part in such scheming!”
“No, of course not. I’m sorry to frighten you.” Rosamond sighed. “I’m just so frustrated.”
“Of course you are.”
Her cousin stood. “I think I’ll take a walk to clear my head.” She gripped Addy’s shoulder. “Just be careful, dear. It’s so easy to make a mistake.”
“I will. Thank you, Rosamond.”
She began to pace once she was alone. She must tell Vickers. Rosamond’s misery had her hesitating, though. Yet this could be important for him to know—and he had promised to keep Rosamond’s name clear.
Resolute, she went to the front parlor, but didn’t see anyone within sight of the house. A sudden thought sent her to the back. Yes. There, perched on the top of the garden fence, sat the girl, Francis, petting a disreputable-looking cat. She hopped down when she spied Addy and ran up to hand her a note.
The Swan. Confectioners on Jermyn Street.
“Ask for Madame’s special,” Francis advised. “It’s delicious.”
“I will.” Addy grinned at the girl. “And I’ll bring you one, too, shall I?”
The chit swept her a creditable curtsy. “Thank you, ever so much.”
She smiled as she returned inside to fetch her bonnet and call for the carriage.
***
The Swan was a charming shop, its glass case filled with delightful-looking temptations and its few small tables empty at this hour. Once more Addy was escorted to a private room, this one with a good-sized desk at the center. Vickers sat there, waiting, along with a teacart laden with colorful creations.
Addy rolled her eyes. “After this, I’m going to be shocked every time I enter a small room and do not find you there.”
He grinned. “How many small rooms do you normally frequent?”
“I don’t know . . . cloak rooms, dressing rooms, antechambers.”
“And you’ll be expecting me in all those places?”
“Regrettably.”
“I like the idea.” He gestured for her take a seat. “In any case, I did say I knew all the good spots.”
“So you did.” She sat, unsure in a way she’d never yet felt with him.
“Hestia sent this.” He slid another packet across the desk.
She took it, but didn’t open it. The idea of living alone had begun to lose its appeal.
“Would you care for a pastry?”
She summoned a smile. “Francis says I must try Madame’s special.”
“The girl has good taste.” He served her, selecting a beautiful, cream filled baked masterpiece shaped like a swan.
She toyed with it. “Would you mind . . . would you tell Hestia that I’d like to meet with her?”
He paled. “Of course. If I’ve offended you—”
“No!” She stopped him. “It’s just that she has a unique perspective.” She pulled out the package she’d brought. “Also, would you deliver this? It’s just a book of children’s stories. I put it together for Muriel and made a copy, as I thought there might sometimes be children at Half Moon House.”
“Indeed there are.” He took it up. “How wonderful.”
“The illustrations are simple. It’s not
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