Lady Adventuress 02 - The Education of Lord Hartley by Daphne du Bois

Promenades and the elegant crowd wandering the park.
    Hart and Maggie ascended the central tower to take their places in one of the little wagonettes. Other patrons chattered excitedly around them.
    On closer inspection, Maggie felt a little wary of the flimsy contraption, but the quiet strength of Hart’s arm gave her comfort as they took their seats.
    A young man instructed the passengers on how to sit in the wagonettes and assured them that they were quite safe, though it was best to keep their elbows in. Ladies were warned to hold on to their reticules.
    Seated in the wagonette, Maggie felt a delicious thrill at the warmth of Hart so close to her. It would be so easy for him to reach out and put an arm about her shoulders. The cart turned out a tighter squeeze than she had expected and she was pressed firmly against him.
    The ride began slowly, moving jerkily towards the drop. Realising that she had never before been so high above the ground in so precarious a contraption, Maggie tensed as the cart gained speed. Suddenly, the tracks fell away beneath them, and Maggie’s stomach felt like it was falling too. It was a peculiar sensation: squeaking a little, she grabbed Hartley’s arm.
    “I don’t think I’m quite ready to die yet,” Maggie exclaimed, her voice a little high-pitched.
    Hart gave a low chuckle, and covered her hand with his – he was clearly enjoying the whole experience as he laughed in a warm, rich voice.
    “Then it is fortunate that we won’t be dying just yet,” the marquess told her, shooting her a sideways glance and squeezing her fingers.
    His touch brought her a strong sense of giddiness and she found that she could enjoy the ride too, because how could anything be frightening when Hart was so near?
    When they came to a stop at last, Maggie was still clutching on to Hart, though she had long since stopped being afraid. Thankfully, he made no comment as he helped her back out of the little wagon. Her legs felt a little like jelly as they descended the tower to rejoin the countess. Maggie didn’t think the sudden weakness in her knees had anything to do with the Promenades .
    “Well, and how did you find it?” asked the lady, cheerfully, rising from her bench.
    “Remarkable,” said Maggie, which was certainly true. “I have never encountered anything like it. It is both delightful and frightening. I am certain such fun would be considered quite scandalous in London.”
    The countess smiled. “Forgive me, my dear, but I would remind you that you are a widow of means: you may do quite as you please. Even have fun in polite society.”
    Maggie returned the smile. “But is that not the wrong way around? I distinctly recall learning in an alphabet rhyme in the schoolroom that a widow ought to be quite morose.”
    “I know that one!” Hart exclaimed. “Now, how did it go…Ah, yes. ‘D’ is a window decrepit and old. ”
    “What a notion,” chuckled the countess, who had never truly considered herself either of those things no matter what she’d said about sitting out the Promenades . “One should never be that without good reason – it is quite vulgar. Decrepit and old, indeed.”
    “And am I, do you think?” Maggie asked Hart softly, a teasing light in her eyes.
    “Not even remotely,” he replied, his voice low and earnest. “Now, if we are quite finished with widows, perhaps you fancy braving the tower, Aunt?”
    In fact, Hart and the countess braved the attraction twice. The lady handled herself with a lot more dignity than Maggie could claim and it seemed that Marie-Josette was a much more intrepid soul, too.
    “Next, I think, I should like to try one of those air-balloons,” she told her young companions as she briskly adjusted her windswept hair.
    “Certainly, Aunt. You will put all adventurers to shame – but perhaps we ought to leave that undertaking for another day,” Hart said.
    “I sincerely hope that you were not being smart at me, my boy.”
    Hart smiled