Springing into the air, the cat fled behind the next bed while the dog followed, repeating the same pattern again.
Olivia sat down on a stone bench to watch. A moment later, a shadow fell across her, and she looked up to find Harold waiting patiently “Yes, Harold?”
“Mr. Witchell said to give you this letter that Mr. Pendleton left for you.”
“Thank you.” He handed her the letter and turned to go, but she stopped him. “Harold, we are going out tonight.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“To Vauxhall.”
“Oh, m’lady, not that idea again. It’s too dangerous.”
“Not with you there. And we did rescue that one unfortunate girl.”
“But you shouldn’t be…”
“Now, Harold, would you deny others the chance to live a decent life? No, I thought not. I understand that in the dark pathways, there are any number of…ladies, looking for a…job. I plan to find those poor, wretched girls and help them.”
“Very well,” he said.
“And you may rid yourself of that hang-dog look. I need your help, Harold.”
“I still say it is too dangerous, my lady.”
Olivia, however, only nibbled her lip for a minute and then said, “True, I did find that part of it rather uncomfortable. Very well, then we will each take along a pistol. I will keep one in my reticule, and you shall carry one in your pocket. You remember how to use it, do you not?”
“Aye, Mr. Pate taught me just fine. Why don’t we take Rattle with us? Better yet, what if I take Rattle, and we see what we can do by ourselves?”
“What? No, that would never work. The only thing you and Rattle alone would get is in trouble. But it would be a good idea to take Rattle for extra protection. Yes, tell him for me and see to it that he is armed, too. Then it is all settled. My aunt is not feeling well, so tonight will be the perfect opportunity for us to find those girls in need of our help. We leave at nine.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
Dressed in black with only his snowy cravat lighting his appearance, Sheridan set out for Vauxhall to meet his friend. He made the short journey by carriage, arriving at the gates and sending the driver away. Carriages lined the street, their drivers and footmen clustered here and there as they waited for their wealthy masters and mistresses to return.
Passing a sleek landaulet, Sheridan frowned. The crest on the side looked familiar. He continued on his way trying to remember where he had seen that particular crest. Then it dawned on him. It was the same as the crest on the huge traveling carriage that had taken guests to the picnic at Pendleton’s estate. It was Lady Olivia’s carriage.
Was it only a coincidence that Richard had invited him to Vauxhall this night? And was this the reason that Richard had not been able to travel to Vauxhall with him? Perhaps Lady Olivia was the thing that had occupied his friend all afternoon.
Sheridan frowned at these theories. He was becoming entirely too concerned with Lady Olivia. What if Olivia and Richard’s meeting in the afternoon had led to an assignation this evening? It was no concern of his.
He continued on to the Rotunda, always looking for Richard. From there, he tried the walkway to the waterfall. There was still no sign of his friend.
Grumbling in frustration while his stomach grumbled with hunger, Sheridan wandered through the darkened paths. He would give Richard another thirty minutes, and then he would leave.
Giggles and a deep voice made him take another direction. Before he knew it, he was quite turned around. The orchestra in the Rotunda was little more than a whine. He stopped and listened for a moment to get his bearings.
The moon had risen. When Sheridan turned a corner, he could see the silhouettes of two people in a small clearing ahead, both females. One was clad in an elegant gown, but the other was dressed in a gown that was almost transparent in the moonlight—an odd combination. Sheridan edged closer.
“I’m not doin’ too bad fer m’self,
Olivia sat down on a stone bench to watch. A moment later, a shadow fell across her, and she looked up to find Harold waiting patiently “Yes, Harold?”
“Mr. Witchell said to give you this letter that Mr. Pendleton left for you.”
“Thank you.” He handed her the letter and turned to go, but she stopped him. “Harold, we are going out tonight.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“To Vauxhall.”
“Oh, m’lady, not that idea again. It’s too dangerous.”
“Not with you there. And we did rescue that one unfortunate girl.”
“But you shouldn’t be…”
“Now, Harold, would you deny others the chance to live a decent life? No, I thought not. I understand that in the dark pathways, there are any number of…ladies, looking for a…job. I plan to find those poor, wretched girls and help them.”
“Very well,” he said.
“And you may rid yourself of that hang-dog look. I need your help, Harold.”
“I still say it is too dangerous, my lady.”
Olivia, however, only nibbled her lip for a minute and then said, “True, I did find that part of it rather uncomfortable. Very well, then we will each take along a pistol. I will keep one in my reticule, and you shall carry one in your pocket. You remember how to use it, do you not?”
“Aye, Mr. Pate taught me just fine. Why don’t we take Rattle with us? Better yet, what if I take Rattle, and we see what we can do by ourselves?”
“What? No, that would never work. The only thing you and Rattle alone would get is in trouble. But it would be a good idea to take Rattle for extra protection. Yes, tell him for me and see to it that he is armed, too. Then it is all settled. My aunt is not feeling well, so tonight will be the perfect opportunity for us to find those girls in need of our help. We leave at nine.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
Dressed in black with only his snowy cravat lighting his appearance, Sheridan set out for Vauxhall to meet his friend. He made the short journey by carriage, arriving at the gates and sending the driver away. Carriages lined the street, their drivers and footmen clustered here and there as they waited for their wealthy masters and mistresses to return.
Passing a sleek landaulet, Sheridan frowned. The crest on the side looked familiar. He continued on his way trying to remember where he had seen that particular crest. Then it dawned on him. It was the same as the crest on the huge traveling carriage that had taken guests to the picnic at Pendleton’s estate. It was Lady Olivia’s carriage.
Was it only a coincidence that Richard had invited him to Vauxhall this night? And was this the reason that Richard had not been able to travel to Vauxhall with him? Perhaps Lady Olivia was the thing that had occupied his friend all afternoon.
Sheridan frowned at these theories. He was becoming entirely too concerned with Lady Olivia. What if Olivia and Richard’s meeting in the afternoon had led to an assignation this evening? It was no concern of his.
He continued on to the Rotunda, always looking for Richard. From there, he tried the walkway to the waterfall. There was still no sign of his friend.
Grumbling in frustration while his stomach grumbled with hunger, Sheridan wandered through the darkened paths. He would give Richard another thirty minutes, and then he would leave.
Giggles and a deep voice made him take another direction. Before he knew it, he was quite turned around. The orchestra in the Rotunda was little more than a whine. He stopped and listened for a moment to get his bearings.
The moon had risen. When Sheridan turned a corner, he could see the silhouettes of two people in a small clearing ahead, both females. One was clad in an elegant gown, but the other was dressed in a gown that was almost transparent in the moonlight—an odd combination. Sheridan edged closer.
“I’m not doin’ too bad fer m’self,
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