do whatever it takes?’
Her fine eyes alight with the fire of battle, Florrie whispered, ‘Yes – oh yes, I am.’
Tim lowered his newspaper. ‘You do realize, don’t you, that involvement with us will more than likely wreck your chances of being presented at court? I mean, are you
really
sure that’s not what you want?’
Florrie laughed. ‘It’s little more than a marriage market. Oh great fun, I’m sure, but no – it’s not for me.’ She sighed. ‘Mother and Father will mind
dreadfully, but I don’t think Gran will.’ She chuckled. ‘I doubt she was ever a debutante.’ But she said no more about that. She didn’t want to divulge her
grandmother’s secret to anyone, not even to Isobel and Tim, though she had a feeling that the Richards knew all about Augusta’s lowly beginnings. The scandal of Nathaniel Maltby
marrying his mother’s lady’s maid must have been talked about at Bixley Manor. ‘So, no, it doesn’t worry me if “high society” doesn’t want to know
me.’
‘Funnily enough,’ Isobel remarked, ‘Lady Lee hasn’t been ostracized by her aristocratic friends.’
‘Not yet,’ Timothy murmured and turned a page of his newspaper noisily.
The two young women glanced at each other. He’d not been as deaf to their chatter as they’d thought!
‘Here we are,’ Timothy said, as the train slowed and drew into the London station. ‘Get your things together, girls. Now, where’s your man, Isobel? He
should be here to meet you. Ah, I see him. He’ll sort out the luggage from the guard’s van. Come along.’
They were caught up in the flurry of travellers alighting from the train and carried along the platform towards the waiting manservant.
‘Miss Richards – how nice to see you again.’
‘And you, Lambert,’ Isobel said. ‘Is all well?’
‘Yes, miss. I’ve got a hansom waiting just around the corner for you, miss. The boy’s holding the horse. Him an’ me’ll see to all the luggage an’ bring it
along later.’ His glance went to Florrie.
‘Ah yes,’ Isobel said. ‘Miss Maltby will be staying with me for a while. Her trunk is labelled. And could you take the Hon. Tim’s to Lady Smythe’s?’
Florrie chuckled inwardly. It seemed that Timothy was known to one and all as ‘the Hon. Tim’.
‘Very good, miss.’
As Lambert moved away to summon a porter to help him retrieve the luggage from the guard’s van, Isobel led Florrie out of the station and round the corner, Timothy following in their
wake.
‘Good afternoon, Joe,’ Isobel greeted the young boy holding the horse’s head.
‘’Af’noon, miss,’ he grinned. ‘Can I ’elp yer?’
‘We’re fine. You’re doing a grand job there.’ She paused and stroked the nose of the patient horse. ‘Now, old fellow.’
Then Timothy handed the two young women into the vehicle and squeezed in beside them. They travelled through the busy city streets and came to an elegant terrace of Georgian town houses. The cab
halted in front of the tall, narrow house three doors from the end of the street.
‘Welcome to number six Chalfont Place,’ Isobel cried, climbing down. Lifting her skirt, she went up the steep steps leading to the white-painted front door with its gleaming brass
knocker. The door opened and the Richards’ town-house butler gave a little bow.
‘Welcome home, Miss Isobel,’ he murmured.
‘Thank you, Meredith.’ Isobel stepped into the hallway and explained at once about her guest.
‘Lucy has prepared a guest room, Miss Isobel, and Cook has dinner ready for seven thirty.’
Isobel glanced back at her fiance standing on the top step. ‘Will you join us, Tim?’
‘Not tonight. I’ll go to my club. Mother is holding a meeting later.’ He smiled. ‘I’d better make myself scarce.’
Isobel nodded and her eyes sparkled. ‘I hadn’t forgotten. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’
Tim nodded, raised his hat in farewell and ran lightly back down the steps.
As Meredith closed
Her fine eyes alight with the fire of battle, Florrie whispered, ‘Yes – oh yes, I am.’
Tim lowered his newspaper. ‘You do realize, don’t you, that involvement with us will more than likely wreck your chances of being presented at court? I mean, are you
really
sure that’s not what you want?’
Florrie laughed. ‘It’s little more than a marriage market. Oh great fun, I’m sure, but no – it’s not for me.’ She sighed. ‘Mother and Father will mind
dreadfully, but I don’t think Gran will.’ She chuckled. ‘I doubt she was ever a debutante.’ But she said no more about that. She didn’t want to divulge her
grandmother’s secret to anyone, not even to Isobel and Tim, though she had a feeling that the Richards knew all about Augusta’s lowly beginnings. The scandal of Nathaniel Maltby
marrying his mother’s lady’s maid must have been talked about at Bixley Manor. ‘So, no, it doesn’t worry me if “high society” doesn’t want to know
me.’
‘Funnily enough,’ Isobel remarked, ‘Lady Lee hasn’t been ostracized by her aristocratic friends.’
‘Not yet,’ Timothy murmured and turned a page of his newspaper noisily.
The two young women glanced at each other. He’d not been as deaf to their chatter as they’d thought!
‘Here we are,’ Timothy said, as the train slowed and drew into the London station. ‘Get your things together, girls. Now, where’s your man, Isobel? He
should be here to meet you. Ah, I see him. He’ll sort out the luggage from the guard’s van. Come along.’
They were caught up in the flurry of travellers alighting from the train and carried along the platform towards the waiting manservant.
‘Miss Richards – how nice to see you again.’
‘And you, Lambert,’ Isobel said. ‘Is all well?’
‘Yes, miss. I’ve got a hansom waiting just around the corner for you, miss. The boy’s holding the horse. Him an’ me’ll see to all the luggage an’ bring it
along later.’ His glance went to Florrie.
‘Ah yes,’ Isobel said. ‘Miss Maltby will be staying with me for a while. Her trunk is labelled. And could you take the Hon. Tim’s to Lady Smythe’s?’
Florrie chuckled inwardly. It seemed that Timothy was known to one and all as ‘the Hon. Tim’.
‘Very good, miss.’
As Lambert moved away to summon a porter to help him retrieve the luggage from the guard’s van, Isobel led Florrie out of the station and round the corner, Timothy following in their
wake.
‘Good afternoon, Joe,’ Isobel greeted the young boy holding the horse’s head.
‘’Af’noon, miss,’ he grinned. ‘Can I ’elp yer?’
‘We’re fine. You’re doing a grand job there.’ She paused and stroked the nose of the patient horse. ‘Now, old fellow.’
Then Timothy handed the two young women into the vehicle and squeezed in beside them. They travelled through the busy city streets and came to an elegant terrace of Georgian town houses. The cab
halted in front of the tall, narrow house three doors from the end of the street.
‘Welcome to number six Chalfont Place,’ Isobel cried, climbing down. Lifting her skirt, she went up the steep steps leading to the white-painted front door with its gleaming brass
knocker. The door opened and the Richards’ town-house butler gave a little bow.
‘Welcome home, Miss Isobel,’ he murmured.
‘Thank you, Meredith.’ Isobel stepped into the hallway and explained at once about her guest.
‘Lucy has prepared a guest room, Miss Isobel, and Cook has dinner ready for seven thirty.’
Isobel glanced back at her fiance standing on the top step. ‘Will you join us, Tim?’
‘Not tonight. I’ll go to my club. Mother is holding a meeting later.’ He smiled. ‘I’d better make myself scarce.’
Isobel nodded and her eyes sparkled. ‘I hadn’t forgotten. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’
Tim nodded, raised his hat in farewell and ran lightly back down the steps.
As Meredith closed
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