Second Season by Elsie Lee Page B

protect Emily’s reputation, it was more of a set-down than was deserved. Sir Eustace had saved Emily, after all. “Allow me to thank you once more, sir,” she said cordially. “I am persuaded my father, Lord Stanwood, will wish to do so in person when he arrives this evening.”
    The Captain’s face cleared magically. “Faith, and I’m glad ye think so, Miss Stanwood. I’ll make bold to step around tomorrow to inquire for Miss Emily,” he grinned mischievously, “with my credentials. I fancy my aunt, Mrs. Ixton, has the pleasure of Lady Stanwood’s acquaintance—or perhaps ’tis her husband knows your father—but I’ll find someone for a proper presentation, never doubt it. I’m not minded to lose my chance for such riding company as yourself, Miss Stanwood.”
    Sharlie could feel herself coloring beneath his admiring blue eyes, but the mention of Mrs. Ixton had relieved her mind. She was indeed known to Lady Stanwood, Charlotte distinctly recalled meeting her last year. “I feel sure your ingenuity will not be gravely tested, sir,” she murmured demurely. “Bid you good day, Captain.”
    Cantering swiftly across the sward, she came up to the others as they reached the railings, to find the duke efficiently transferring Emily to John-groom, then dismounting to assist her into Lady Inverclyde’s carriage. “Eh, what’s all this? What’s amiss?” the old lady demanded. “Come up, come up, child. No, the dog will not bite you, Emily. Push him out of the way—well, sit on him, then. He’ll move fast enough, I warrant you—get down, Cupidon! Now, what’s happened? Was she thrown?”
    “No—merely, her horse bolted, but she was rescued by another rider.”
    “Captain Sir Eustace Gayle, who is nephew to Mrs. Ixton,” Charlotte inserted blandly. “Most gracious of your ladyship to take up my sister. I pray it does not too greatly inconvenience you.”
    “No, no,” Lady Inverclyde said absently. “Ixton? One of the Stidhams, or was she a Guthrie? Tchk, there’s no keeping up with the Irish, but I fancy I know the woman.”
    “Very possibly, ma’am—she is known to mama and I have met her, too.”
    “Ah? That’s all right then.” She eyed Emily severely, “Not goin’ to faint, are you? Can’t abide fainting misses! Look all right to me, color’s normal ... straighten your bonnet, Emily, and sit up. We’ll take another turn, let ’em see you’re all right,” poking the coachman with her cane. “Go on, Thompson—around again, and don’t swear at Lady Parks’ coachman this time. Send your groom home, Sharlie, and finish your ride. Imbrie can escort you. On a horse, he’s safe enough!” Cackling gleefully, Lady Inverclyde drove away.
    Charlotte looked after the carriage, disconcerted. On the one hand she yearned to make a full circuit; on the other, she was embarrassed to be thrust upon the duke so high-handedly. “Take Firefly back to the stable, John, and return for me,” she decided. “I’ll keep beside her ladyship’s carriage. You’ll probably find us on the far side of the sward.”
    “Miss Stanwood, I beg you will not believe that wicked old woman,” his grace pleaded piteously. “I am entirely safe even when not on a horse. You have no need of a groom, particularly,” with an appraising glance at John, “when I am the bigger by a stone. Send the man back to the stable.”
    From the corner of her eye, Sharlie could see the groom’s face purpling with suppressed guffaws. She knew her own face was pink, she felt ready to sink with embarrassment. “And I beg you will not feel obligated to disarrange your day for her ladyship’s whims,” she returned with spirit. “Your grace has already done more than enough in assisting my sister, I have no wish to incommode you farther. I am persuaded there can be no impropriety in my riding alone within view of her ladyship’s carriage.”
    “Phoo, sad stuff,” the duke grimaced. “Two paces an hour? Mondschein will never