like to ride in Hyde Park."
This was something he would be delighted to take a hand in. The thought lifted his spirits. She was an excellent horsewoman. The best he'd ever met. "Of course. But not a hired hack. I will buy one at Tatt's and a carriage and pair too, if you like."
Her face lit up like the sun emerging from a cloud. Her obvious pleasure gratified him a great deal, more than he cared to admit.
"Are you sure it is not too extravagant?" she asked. "I wouldn't want your papa to think I'm bringing you to ruin."
The warmth dissipated on a cold breeze. "What we do has nothing to do with my father, and it certainly will not do for people to think I'm too nipcheese to spring for a decent mount for my wife."
My wife. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. "By the way, I won't be dining at home. There is a cockfight at the Royale tonight."
She opened her mouth.
"No. You cannot come. Ladies don't attend sporting events. Not good ton."
"Not even with their husbands?"
There it was again. Husband. A fine web of restraint tying him down. "No."
The droop of her expressive mouth made him want to offer to come home for dinner. He must be losing his mind. If he pandered to her now, she'd be running his life before season's end. "Surely, you do not mind eating alone?"
Despite the doubt in her expression, she shook her head. "No."
"Then why the sad face?"
Her smile seemed forced. "Men seem to do more interesting things than we ladies do. I wondered if the rules were more relaxed for married women."
He considered the matter. Certainly several married women of his acquaintance broke society's mores. "It all depends on who you are and how you carry it off. Lady Louisa Caradin raced a friend in along Rotten Row and got off pretty light." On the other hand, Selina Watson, the daring widow who had introduced Lucas to the delights of the flesh when he first came to Town, had entered White's dressed as a man. Since then, all the doors of the toplofty hostesses had closed firmly in her face. "You do not want to be thought fast, do you?"
Shock widened her eyes. "Heavens, no."
"A lady attending a cockfight is definitely beyond the pale." Damn it. He was beginning to feel like the strict parent of a wayward child, and judging from her out-thrust chin, she thought so too.
Staring at Lucas's grim expression, Caro wondered if she'd ever learn how to go on in London. Her first visitor and she'd made a mess of it. Now Lucas thought her foolish.
"Very well, I will cross that off my list of things to do in London," she said primly.
He chuckled and looked horrified at the same time. "You have a list?"
Returning to the sofa, she sat down with a smile. "I have an excellent guide book. Miss Salter gave it to me. It contains a list of all the most edifying sights. I will ask Lizzie to search the luggage for it."
They glanced up at a knock at the door. Beckwith announced, "Sir Charles Bascombe to see you, my lord."
"Show him in, please."
The stocky young man who strolled in had short, neatly styled fair hair, bright blue eyes, and an open, friendly expression. Caro had met him the day after she arrived in London. He had been at Eton with Lucas, and she had liked him on sight.
Lucas derisively called him a dandy. Today, he was certainly dressed to a shade. In a brown coat of superfine, biscuit-colored breeches and a lemon waistcoat with silver embroidery, he looked a veritable pink of the ton. His shirt collar grazed his jaw, and his cravat was a wonder of complexity.
Beside the languorous Mr. Bascombe, the lean and athletic Lucas appeared careless to the extreme. Only his shiny Hessian boots showed the least attention. With his cravat tied in a simple knot and his unadorned waistcoat, he had an air of comfort, not fashion. And yet his long hair and the hint of danger lurking beneath a
This was something he would be delighted to take a hand in. The thought lifted his spirits. She was an excellent horsewoman. The best he'd ever met. "Of course. But not a hired hack. I will buy one at Tatt's and a carriage and pair too, if you like."
Her face lit up like the sun emerging from a cloud. Her obvious pleasure gratified him a great deal, more than he cared to admit.
"Are you sure it is not too extravagant?" she asked. "I wouldn't want your papa to think I'm bringing you to ruin."
The warmth dissipated on a cold breeze. "What we do has nothing to do with my father, and it certainly will not do for people to think I'm too nipcheese to spring for a decent mount for my wife."
My wife. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. "By the way, I won't be dining at home. There is a cockfight at the Royale tonight."
She opened her mouth.
"No. You cannot come. Ladies don't attend sporting events. Not good ton."
"Not even with their husbands?"
There it was again. Husband. A fine web of restraint tying him down. "No."
The droop of her expressive mouth made him want to offer to come home for dinner. He must be losing his mind. If he pandered to her now, she'd be running his life before season's end. "Surely, you do not mind eating alone?"
Despite the doubt in her expression, she shook her head. "No."
"Then why the sad face?"
Her smile seemed forced. "Men seem to do more interesting things than we ladies do. I wondered if the rules were more relaxed for married women."
He considered the matter. Certainly several married women of his acquaintance broke society's mores. "It all depends on who you are and how you carry it off. Lady Louisa Caradin raced a friend in along Rotten Row and got off pretty light." On the other hand, Selina Watson, the daring widow who had introduced Lucas to the delights of the flesh when he first came to Town, had entered White's dressed as a man. Since then, all the doors of the toplofty hostesses had closed firmly in her face. "You do not want to be thought fast, do you?"
Shock widened her eyes. "Heavens, no."
"A lady attending a cockfight is definitely beyond the pale." Damn it. He was beginning to feel like the strict parent of a wayward child, and judging from her out-thrust chin, she thought so too.
Staring at Lucas's grim expression, Caro wondered if she'd ever learn how to go on in London. Her first visitor and she'd made a mess of it. Now Lucas thought her foolish.
"Very well, I will cross that off my list of things to do in London," she said primly.
He chuckled and looked horrified at the same time. "You have a list?"
Returning to the sofa, she sat down with a smile. "I have an excellent guide book. Miss Salter gave it to me. It contains a list of all the most edifying sights. I will ask Lizzie to search the luggage for it."
They glanced up at a knock at the door. Beckwith announced, "Sir Charles Bascombe to see you, my lord."
"Show him in, please."
The stocky young man who strolled in had short, neatly styled fair hair, bright blue eyes, and an open, friendly expression. Caro had met him the day after she arrived in London. He had been at Eton with Lucas, and she had liked him on sight.
Lucas derisively called him a dandy. Today, he was certainly dressed to a shade. In a brown coat of superfine, biscuit-colored breeches and a lemon waistcoat with silver embroidery, he looked a veritable pink of the ton. His shirt collar grazed his jaw, and his cravat was a wonder of complexity.
Beside the languorous Mr. Bascombe, the lean and athletic Lucas appeared careless to the extreme. Only his shiny Hessian boots showed the least attention. With his cravat tied in a simple knot and his unadorned waistcoat, he had an air of comfort, not fashion. And yet his long hair and the hint of danger lurking beneath a
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