Lady Hawk's Folly by Amanda Scott Page B

Lady Bridget’s idle conversation, Mollie had soon been heartily bored and had found herself wishing that she might have been born a gentleman just so that she could ride alongside the carriage with the others.
    She had no wish to dampen Harry’s enthusiasm or to offend gentle Lady Bridget, however, so she exerted herself to attend to them. At the second change, which was made in East Grinstead, she greeted Hawk’s invitation to take Harry up behind him with mixed emotions. Though grateful for the respite, she was conscious of a strong wish that it could be she, rather than Harry, who scrambled up to ride pillion behind the broad-shouldered marquess.
    But now they were in London at last, and Harry could be turned over to his tutor, traveling with Hawk’s and Lord Ramsay’s men in the third carriage, behind Cathe, Mathilde du Bois, and Lady Bridget’s Prentice in the second. The spacious Hawkstone House entryway was warm and inviting. Ned Lofting, having traveled up from Kent with Mary Perfect the previous Friday, was there to greet them, impeccably attired in a long-tailed gray coat, well-pressed knee breeches, and a neatly tied cravat. Leaving the butler and his minions to attend to the baggage coach, the gentlemen went upstairs to change out of their riding dress, and Mollie and Lady Bridget retired to the first-floor drawing room, having first given orders that tea should be served to them there at once.
    Mollie was amused to hear that since Mrs. Perfect had foreseen the request, tea would be immediately forthcoming. Mary Perfect was not married, but her elevation to the post of housekeeper had evidently made the change of title a necessary one—in her eye, at least. The housekeeper came herself to be certain their tea was all it should be.
    She was a tall, slender, middle-aged woman with light-brown hair brushed severely off her forehead and confined in a neat coil at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were hazel, and her complexion unlined, despite her years. In black bombazine with just the smallest hint of a ruffle at collar and cuff, she presented the picture of efficiency. Her firm expression softened slightly when Lady Bridget complimented her on the appearance of the house.
    “There was little enough to do when I arrived, my lady,” she said in her clear voice. “The town staff is very competent. I trust everything is to your satisfaction.”
    Detecting an anxious note beneath the calmly spoken words, Mollie smiled. “We have every confidence in you, Perfect. The Bracegirdles would not have recommended Lofting or you, had they not believed you both completely capable.”
    “Thank you, my lady.”
    The door opened just then, and Lofting entered. “Begging your pardon, m’lady,” he said, “but Lady Andrew is below and wishes to know if you and her ladyship are at home.”
    “Oh, for heaven’s—”
    “Oh, dear,” said Lady Bridget in the same breath.
    Lofting controlled his features admirably, but it clearly required an effort, and Mollie grinned at him. “I suppose you couldn’t simply tell her we’ve not arrived yet?”
    “Mollie…dearest,” protested Lady Bridget in feeble accents.
    “The baggage be scattered all over the hall, m’lady,” said the butler apologetically.
    “And she would never believe we’d sent it on ahead,” Mollie sighed. “Very well, where have you put her?”
    “In the main saloon, m’lady. She went in there herself. Just said she knew you was here and would want to see her.”
    “Takes a deal for granted, does she not?” Mollie muttered. Then, seeing Lady Bridget’s shocked expression, she smiled. “Don’t fret, ma’am, I shan’t deny her. I suppose you’d better bring her up, Ned, but first send a man to inform the master of her arrival.”
    “I sent Michael up immediate, ma’am, thinking if you wasn’t wishful to, perhaps the master would handle matters.”
    “Very well,” Mollie told him, slightly nettled that he had sent for Hawk before coming