Quiet Meg by Sherry Lynn Ferguson

the other rider was moving toward her,
with growing assurance.

    She relied on Arcturus then, giving him his head, assured that very few horses off a track could hope to catch
him. As they plunged ahead and cut diagonally away from
the woods, her heart beat so wildly she could not be certain
whether she heard hooves behind her. As they neared the
stables she slowed and looked back. Nothing and no one
followed. Yet she had been certain the rider had started to
approach.
    She was breathing quickly, though Arcturus hardly
seemed exercised. Patting him on the neck she walked him
a while in the lane beyond the stables, then turned him back
to the groom. She said nothing to the lad about the other
rider, but she determined to request the groom’s company
in future.
    Chas rushed through his work with plantsmen in Fulham. He made fleeting calls at two properties where work
neared completion. He accomplished in two days what he
would normally have set out to do in twice the time, all so
he could manage a lightning visit to town.
    There he spent an impatient morning at his tailor’s, then
moved on to the boot maker’s. He stopped for a shave before finding his cousin at his club.
    “Didn’t expect you in town just now, Chas, it being
spring, with the plowin’ and all.” Myles Trent, the Marquis
of Hayden, waved him to a seat. “And I’d heard you’d
promised the best of the season to gouty old Clare. You
need a new coat, by the way.” His Resplendence, fastidious
dresser, prosperous gambler, and acknowledged out-andouter, felt it within his purview, indeed entirely his obligation, to comment on such matters.

    “I have just seen to it. And yes, I’m promised to Clare,
but for this summer. I may find myself delaying for a couple of months.”
    “Delaying? You?” Hayden’s lazy blue eyes widened.
“What the devil is wrong?”
    “I need to ask a favor of you, Hayden”
    “Now that is such a rare event I’m tempted to grant your
request without inquirin’. But I s’pose I ought to see if it’s
in me power.”
    “I would be truly astounded if it were not. I should like
to be assured of a welcome-at Almack’s.”
    Hayden stared at him.
    “For some chit, d’you mean?” he asked at last.
    “No, for myself.”
    His cousin grinned.
    “Incroyable! You! Dangling after some milk-and-water
miss! And Almack’s-I might as easily picture an oak in a
hothouse!”
    Chas had to smile.
    “Shall they admit me, though?”
    “Good heavens, Chas. Their little hearts will be aflutter.
They’ll have you trussed up and on the block the moment
you’re through the door! Why submit to it?”
    “I’d like to help a friend. Some friends, rather. And it occurred to me that this is the way to set about it.”
    “Even more interesting! ‘Tis quite an undertaking.
Would I happen to know the beneficiaries?
    “Possibly. Have I mentioned Bertram Lawrence to you?
We were at university together.”
    “Bertram Lawrence … Now where have I heard that … ?
Percy Laurens … Lawrence Howell…” As Hayden tilted his famously fair head to the side, Chas forced himself to
relax. Why shouldn’t Myles know the truth of it? His
cousin knew him very well indeed. “‘Tis most familiar.
‘Twill strike me later. And I will see that the ladies are
alerted. You shall face no impediment-I guarantee it. Indeed, I’m like to be trampled, merely deliverin’ notice.
When are you planning this sortie?”

    “Not for some weeks. Don’t tax yourself. There is another matter, though. At Almack’s, if my behavior is not
quite-acceptable should you mind very much being barred
from the place for a spell?
    Hayden’s grin widened.
    “What are you contemplatin’, Chas? I believe I must
brave the place with you. Haven’t pranced about there in
years. Probably please of Grandmere. Why not ask for
her aid with this silliness, by the by? No doubt she has
vouchers papering her walls.”
    “I … haven’t been