Second Season by Elsie Lee

Clarence, at his particular request,” she announced proudly. “He stood talking to her for quite five minutes, and said she wore a vastly fetching hat; must be the despair of every woman in London!”
    “Not of yourself, surely.”
    “No, of course not! Nothing could be more satisfying than her success. It makes up for EVERYTHING,” Sharlie said darkly, and giggled. “I do not scruple to tell you, Duke, for you must well know it: last year I was totally ignored, a positive antidote. No one looked at me twice, except to make sure he could retreat at once. I had not the least notion how to go on, you see, but this year—I have only to watch Emily. It all comes so instinctively to her, as though she were born for exalted society. Her beauty, her accomplishments, her sweet manners, make her so uniformly pleasing as to confound my insipidity ... plus,” Charlotte laughed archly, “a great many crumbs fall to my share, such as today.”
    “I beg your pardon?” he said, startled.
    “You are not the only gentleman who, upon failing to gain a dance, a drive, an adjoining chair to my sister, is sufficiently courteous to solicit me instead,” she smiled, “but today I am very glad of it, despite your disappointment. Forgive me, but my sister becomes nervous in sporting carriages. She is not at ease with horses. It is entirely different in the country, where there is nothing to alarm them. At Stanbury she rides frequently, but the press of London traffic upsets her.”
    “I’d gathered as much, but it holds no terror for yourself?”
    “Only when there is a snarl caused by a whipster. Then I am not so much frightened as furious at the beaux who set up their carriages with no ability to handle the ribbons; merely to be in the mode,” she said scornfully, “and they endanger everyone else.”
    “Very true. Do you drive, Miss Stanwood?”
    “No,” she sighed. “Geoffrey—my brother—once promised to teach me, but he has been at Oxford, you know, and there was not the opportunity. Besides, papa said he could not afford to replace Geoff’s curricle if I smashed it—which was most unjust,” Sharlie’s brow contracted, “for Geoffrey came to splinters himself over some foolish wager.”
    “I collect Lord Stanwood provided another?”
    “Of course, but then he said Geoffrey wasn’t fit to teach me, and probably he isn’t. The F.H.C. won’t have him,” with a glance for the duke’s blue and yellow striped waistcoat, “as I expect you may know.”
    “Well, no, I didn’t, but I am not on the board of admissions,” he said apologetically. “Should you like to drive, Miss Stanwood?”
    “Of all things! But papa says there is no point in it as yet. It would mean an extra carriage and horses. Our London stabling is already crowded, but at Stanwood he is too often from home to take time for instruction.”
    The duke was undermined by her wistful expression. “Would he accept me for your tutor, d’you think, Miss Stanwood?” The glowing face turned to him, the breathless reverential “ You !” caused that faint quiver in his pulse. “Why not?” he smiled. “I doubt I’ll need do more than assure myself your hands are firm. Never tell me you do not already know the placement of the reins, and which are the leaders, which the wheelers.”
    “Of course, but there is a wide difference between knowing and doing,” she pointed out reasonably. “I’ve all to learn in proper management of the whip, for instance. Oh, would you really ?”
    Reining in before No. 10 Park Street, “Yes, Miss Stanwood, I really would,” his grace smiled. “Next week? I’ll send you word when I see how my engagements fall out, and hope you may be free at a similar time.”
    “How absurd you are!” Sharlie scoffed as he handed her down. “Your grace knows full well I’d excuse myself from any commitment except the Drawing Room presentation—but that does not arise until next month.” She spared a tiny nod and smile for