“Oh, yes, now I remember . . . the scandal with Viscount Motton. But they wed, didn’t they?”
“Indeed they did and with no lasting damage to their social prominence, I believe. However, Jane has never been a great fan of the Season, and she firmly believes country air is far superior to London’s soot for her son, so she’s not planning to come to Town anytime soon.” He also suspected she might be in the family way again, but she and Motton hadn’t said so yet. “The only Parker-Roth you might encounter this Season besides me is my younger brother, Nicholas, who’s just finished his studies at Oxford.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure you must know everyone.” Evie looked both hopeful and nervous. “With you to guide us, I’ll fare much better than if I had only Cousin Clorinda and Anne to rely on.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Anne said dryly. She did have to admit to some relief, though. Evie was completely correct—Anne knew next to nothing about London society. She’d woken up in a cold sweat early this morning—one reason she’d been out walking Harry—terrified of putting a wrong foot forward and blighting Evie’s chances. And she’d already done that . . . but Mr. Parker-Roth’s presence at their side would definitely help.
She couldn’t risk ruining Evie’s Season; who knew if Papa would think to give her another. Evie was too beautiful and vivacious to be condemned to spinsterhood or forced in desperation to marry one of the fat, old men hanging out for a young wife at home.
“I do have a friend or two who’s stepped into parson’s mousetrap,” Mr. Parker-Roth was saying. “I’ll wager their ladies will be more than happy to help steer you past society’s treacherous shoals.”
Evie clasped her hands together again. “That would be splendid.”
“And you said your younger brother had just finished Oxford, didn’t you, sir?” George asked.
Mr. Parker-Roth smiled. “Yes. Do you plan to go to Oxford yourself, George?”
“No. Or, that is, I don’t know. Philip’s the scholar, not me.” George shrugged and looked at Philip. “I was just wondering . . .”
“. . . if your brother—or, if not he, then a friend of his—might be interested in being our, well, tutor?” Philip finished.
“Except he wouldn’t have to do lessons,” George hastened to add.
“He’d just have to take us around London to the museums,” Philip said, “and . . . balloon ascensions.”
“And Astley’s Amphitheatre.”
“And the Royal Menagerie.”
“And all the things a boy should see in London,” George finished, “but which we won’t see if it’s left up to Anne or Evie or Cousin Clorinda.”
“Papa said he’d find us an amiable fellow to keep us out from under the women’s feet,” Philip said, “but then he got wind of the new antiquities discovery and forgot.”
“Papa forgets everything when anyone mentions antiquities,” George said.
Two identical faces stared up at Mr. Parker-Roth, hearts in their eyes. The man smiled as though he really understood how the boys felt.
Anne felt an odd sensation in her chest, as if her own heart had turned over. “I’m afraid Philip and George are right,” she said. “Papa did neglect to make any arrangements for them—or if he did, he didn’t tell us what they were. And I expect Evie and I will be too busy to do much with the boys. Nor can I see relying on Cousin Clorinda—”
“Cousin Clorinda? You couldn’t be so shabby as to stick us with her!” George said. “She’d probably lock us in the library. Phil might survive, but you know I ain’t bookish. I’d cock up my toes from boredom in a trice.”
Anne frowned. “A little reading would do you good, George.”
“You saw her try to get me to read that damned—”
“George!”
“—deuced book on some stupid bird last night.”
“And I saw how you gave her palpitations when you told her the only good bird was one turning on a spit,” Evie
“Indeed they did and with no lasting damage to their social prominence, I believe. However, Jane has never been a great fan of the Season, and she firmly believes country air is far superior to London’s soot for her son, so she’s not planning to come to Town anytime soon.” He also suspected she might be in the family way again, but she and Motton hadn’t said so yet. “The only Parker-Roth you might encounter this Season besides me is my younger brother, Nicholas, who’s just finished his studies at Oxford.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure you must know everyone.” Evie looked both hopeful and nervous. “With you to guide us, I’ll fare much better than if I had only Cousin Clorinda and Anne to rely on.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Anne said dryly. She did have to admit to some relief, though. Evie was completely correct—Anne knew next to nothing about London society. She’d woken up in a cold sweat early this morning—one reason she’d been out walking Harry—terrified of putting a wrong foot forward and blighting Evie’s chances. And she’d already done that . . . but Mr. Parker-Roth’s presence at their side would definitely help.
She couldn’t risk ruining Evie’s Season; who knew if Papa would think to give her another. Evie was too beautiful and vivacious to be condemned to spinsterhood or forced in desperation to marry one of the fat, old men hanging out for a young wife at home.
“I do have a friend or two who’s stepped into parson’s mousetrap,” Mr. Parker-Roth was saying. “I’ll wager their ladies will be more than happy to help steer you past society’s treacherous shoals.”
Evie clasped her hands together again. “That would be splendid.”
“And you said your younger brother had just finished Oxford, didn’t you, sir?” George asked.
Mr. Parker-Roth smiled. “Yes. Do you plan to go to Oxford yourself, George?”
“No. Or, that is, I don’t know. Philip’s the scholar, not me.” George shrugged and looked at Philip. “I was just wondering . . .”
“. . . if your brother—or, if not he, then a friend of his—might be interested in being our, well, tutor?” Philip finished.
“Except he wouldn’t have to do lessons,” George hastened to add.
“He’d just have to take us around London to the museums,” Philip said, “and . . . balloon ascensions.”
“And Astley’s Amphitheatre.”
“And the Royal Menagerie.”
“And all the things a boy should see in London,” George finished, “but which we won’t see if it’s left up to Anne or Evie or Cousin Clorinda.”
“Papa said he’d find us an amiable fellow to keep us out from under the women’s feet,” Philip said, “but then he got wind of the new antiquities discovery and forgot.”
“Papa forgets everything when anyone mentions antiquities,” George said.
Two identical faces stared up at Mr. Parker-Roth, hearts in their eyes. The man smiled as though he really understood how the boys felt.
Anne felt an odd sensation in her chest, as if her own heart had turned over. “I’m afraid Philip and George are right,” she said. “Papa did neglect to make any arrangements for them—or if he did, he didn’t tell us what they were. And I expect Evie and I will be too busy to do much with the boys. Nor can I see relying on Cousin Clorinda—”
“Cousin Clorinda? You couldn’t be so shabby as to stick us with her!” George said. “She’d probably lock us in the library. Phil might survive, but you know I ain’t bookish. I’d cock up my toes from boredom in a trice.”
Anne frowned. “A little reading would do you good, George.”
“You saw her try to get me to read that damned—”
“George!”
“—deuced book on some stupid bird last night.”
“And I saw how you gave her palpitations when you told her the only good bird was one turning on a spit,” Evie
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