DD-Michaels-END.rtf (12 page)

Morgan hastily tied her bonnet ribbons to one side of her chin, then walked over to the door, eager to be on her way. "Julia? We're going to be late to the Promenade."

Julia looked at Morgan, and then at the earl once more, and mentally readjusted Chance's and her plans for a quiet, uneventful evening spent cuddling in their bedchamber. "My husband and I wish to extend an invitation to dinner with us this evening, my lord. We dine at seven."

"It would be my honor," Ethan said, bowing again, this time over Julia's gracefully extended hand. He looked up at her, into a pair of all-seeing green eyes, and added, "I'd never hurt her, madam."

"I'm sure you believe that, my lord," Julia said as he straightened once more. "I'm also sure she believes she'd never hurt you. But please remember, she's young, and fairly impetuous. What means the world to her today might be but dust beneath her feet next week."

Ethan looked toward Morgan, who had now pulled on her gloves and was looking at him worriedly. "I wonder, madam," he said, turning to Julia once more, "which of the two of us you most underestimate."

"Prove me wrong, my lord. And I suggest you begin by not being so terribly
intense
when you look at her."

"Point taken, madam," Ethan answered, feeling as if he'd just been disciplined by his tutor. "Your husband hinted that you are formidable."

"Thank you," Julia said with a small smile, then watched as the earl offered his arm to Morgan and the two of them walked down the few steps to the flagway, and the magnificent curricle that waited there.

Ethan's curricle was the envy of many a young buck who knew he'd never hope to aspire to such magnificence, but Morgan paid it little attention, preferring to inspect his lordship's horseflesh.

The matched blacks stood quietly in the traces, their fine, trim heads faced forward.

"They're as alike as two peas in a pod," Morgan said, marveling. "Hackneys?"

"Hackneys, indeed," Ethan told her, redirecting her back to the curricle, and helping her up onto the seat. "But you're supposed to
be impressed all hollow by my exquisite equipage."

He climbed up beside her, with a
nod of his head informing the groom to take his hands from the horse's bridle
s
—
a
t which point the groom quickly leaped back onto the flagway.

"It's very nice," Morgan said offhandedly, then grinned as the pair smartly moved out into the middle of the street, their heads lifted proudly, their knees high with each exaggerated step, the motion snappy and extraordinarily disciplined.

"Nice,
you say? Damned with faint praise. I believe I'll just toddle on home now and slit my throat."

Morgan still had most of her attention on the horses, which was so much more comfortable than allowing her thoughts to stray to the realization that she and Ethan were sitting so close together on the small seat that their bodies touched. Burned where hers touched his.

"Oh, hush," she said, putting a hand on his forearm, thrilled by the contact, yet comfortable with the act itself. "Don't you know? I have to talk about
something."

He turned to grin at her, those long slashes cutting into his cheeks. "Why?"

"Because I have to, that's all," Morgan told him. "It's only polite to talk."

"But you'd rather do something else?"

They'd joined the line of vehicles inching their way into Hyde Park. "I'd rather
be
somewhere else," she told him, keeping her gaze on him.

He adored her honesty, even as he felt sure she wasn't always honest. "Keep looking at me that way, Morgan, and in another moment we'll be the subject of dinner gossip all over Mayfair for a month. I don't mind, not for myself, but I think your brother and his good wife might have a word or two to say on the matter."

He faced forward once more, his pair obeying just the slightest flicker of the reins as the line of vehicles moved forward once more.

"Now, we are here, as someone may have already informed you, to see and be seen. We are most especially here so that I can spy out one of the hostesses at Almacks, and procure a voucher for you."

"Do I want to go to Almacks?"

"Many young ladies would gladly give up their hope of salvation to attend Almacks."

Morgan shrugged. "Well, in that case, I don't want to go. Why should I want to do what everyone else does? I never have before."

Ethan's delighted laughter caused several heads to turn and, once turned, many eyes began to stare. Female eyes. Definitely male eyes.

At another time, with another young woman up beside him, Ethan would be secretly pleased to have scored a coup, drawn such interest. After all, what was society if not one huge, unending game of tweaking your peers?

But not today. Not this woman. And when one ridiculously overdressed young cub
on horseback leaned over to his friend and whispered something, and the friend made appreciative kissing motions with
his mouth, Ethan knew what
it
felt
like to experience the sudden urge to kill.

"This may have been a mistake," he said, even as the curricle was finally assimilated by the nearly endless line of vehicles making their way around the park.

But Morgan, who had wanted to be with the earl, though not necessarily in such a public place, was now looking around eagerly, utterly amazed by the crush of equipages, horseflesh and exotic people. "Nonsense. Is the entire world here? And what for, may I ask? Society, Julia told me, is fairly limited. Aren't they all out here, seeing the people they saw here yesterday and will see again tomorrow? Why do they do it?"

Ethan shrugged. "Because they always have?"

"But that's no reason. Perhaps they're hoping to see someone new." She grinned at Ethan. "Like
m
e."

"Oh, I doubt the ladies have been hoping to see someone like you, imp," he said as Morgan sat up even straighter, and men waved to one young man who'd actually stood up in his stirrups to tip his hat to her. "And that fool's going to be facedown in the dirt in a moment, if his horse decides to move in any direction. I've seen him ride."

Morgan smiled, but said nothing. Why, he was jealous! And, while not unaccustomed to this sort of reaction from men who had entered her orbit in the past, she felt no great need to play on that jealousy, tease him, flirt with the other man.

Because no other man mattered to her, not a single soul in this entire huge park crammed nearly to bursting with what E
ll
y had told her were termed "Exquisites." And "Corinthians." And even "Dandies."

For every gentleman she saw as the curricle inched along slowly, there were at least two females. Old ones, young ones, fat ones, chinless ones, overdressed ones... desperate ones.

Behind the bright smiles of the debutantes, the searching, assessing eyes of their keepers, there seemed to be an air of near desperation. As if failing to catch the eye of an eligible parti was a fate far worse than death.

Morgan leaned against Ethan's shoulder. "Do you smell it? The sun may be shining, and a fair breeze blowing, but all I can smell is fear. From both the hunted and the hunters. I'm so very glad I am here with you."

"Convenient, am I?" Ethan asked her. "That's rather lowering. And here I thought you might be beginning to care."

Now it was Morgan's clear laughter that brought outside attention their way, and this time very specific attention, from a quartet of matrons approaching from the opposite direction in an elaborate, open-topped carriage drawn by four aged horses.

"Aylesford, can you do nothing without causing a scene?" the largest of the four ladies asked. None of them had missed a meal in years, probably pushing slower people out of the way as they grabbed for the last pork chop
,
Morgan had already decided.

Ethan smiled as he tipped his hat to the ladies, even while drawing his slow-moving pair to a halt beside the carriage. "I don't think so, Aunt Tirrel, no. I should never want to disappoint your low opinion of me. But, alas, I haven't seen the Second Coming as yet. Is he home nursing another unfortunate carbuncle?"

Morgan watched as the woman's head snapped back as if she'd been slapped. "Don't you dare speak that way about Fenton. I'll have you know that my son is tending to estate matters, which is more than you can say."

"True, Aunt. I haven't tended to your estate matters since last you applied to me fo
r
—
"

The woman cut him off, saying, "Your lack of manners is showing, Aylesford. Introduce your companion. If you can," she added, her smile rather greasy, in Morgan's opinion. Why, if all the lace and feathers were stripped off her, to be replaced by an apron and a newly dead chicken in her fist, she'd be no better than Daisy, who worked in the kitchens at Becket Hall.

"No, that would be insulting Daisy," Morgan told herself quietly, then covered her mouth with her hand, to disguise a giggle with a discreet cough.

Ethan heard Morgan mutter, but couldn't catch her exact words. But he did hear "insulting." And he agreed. Aunt Tirrel was often an amusement to
him, but not this time. This time, she would have to be put more firmly in her place.

"How remiss of me, Aunt," he said, very obviously placing a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Miss Becket
,
I should very much like to introduce to you my aunt, Mrs. Tirrel, along with these other three delightful ladies whose names have escaped me at the moment. Aunt? If you'd do the honors?"

Mrs. Tirrel hastily introduced her companions, even while shooting daggers at Ethan, who had turned the tables, so that now the ladies were being introduced to Morgan, placing her socially above all four of them.

These were small things, but in a society as vapid as the one in Mayfair, they weighed heavily, and Ethan knew it. He truly believed people like his aunt even kept score.

"Yes, yes, of course, I should have recalled the names on my own. So sorry, ladies, a thousand apologies. As for my companion, I am delighted to introduce you to Miss Morgan Becket." He leaned slightly toward the open carriage.
"The
Beckets of Ro
m
ney Marsh, you know."

"Becket?" His aunt's face screwed up in concentration. "I don't believe I recognize the name."

Morgan had seen and heard enough. She put her hand against Ethan's chest, pushing him slightly back as she leaned forward and looked to the ladies on her left. "I should hardly doubt that, madam. Obviously, you and I do not travel in the same circles."

Then she sat back, raised her chin and said, "Ay
l
es-ford, I believe the horses have been left standing long enough while you speak with your
......
relation." She said the last word with the same distaste one might reserve for having discovered a maggot in her bread.

Without so much as a hint of the amusement he was feeling, Ethan turned once
more to
his
aunt
andher companions. "Now see what you've done, Aunt. And here I'd
been planning to invite you and my cousin to
be a
part of my small party next week, in honor of Miss Becket. I'm afraid you can put paid to that hope, madam."

"I...
b
ut
surely
—"

"Good day, ladies," Ethan said, and his team moved forward into an immediate trot
,
for there was sufficient room in front of them now, until they caught up with the other vehicles making the circuit.

Besides, he very much needed to laugh, and he was certain Morgan was suffering from the same urgency.

"'We do not travel in the same circles,
'
" he repeated
,
once the worst of his bout of hilarity was past.

"Well, we don't, do we?" Morgan retorted, delicately wiping at her streaming eyes with the corner of the handkerchief she'd pulled from
her pocket. "I don't travel in any circles at all, unless we count this one, and I'd really rather leave the park, if you don't mind."

Ethan's smile faded. "She did upset you."

"Upset me? Really, Ethan, that sorry excuse, upset me? No. I'm simply bored, that's all. What is the sense of horseflesh like your pair, if all they can do is stand about, waiting to move a few inches at a time? I know I shouldn't pass judgment too quickly, but I must tell you that so far I find society to be damn silly. I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would think I'd find it otherwise."

"Don't say any more, Morgan, please, or I'll be forced to stop the curricle now, so that I can get down on one knee and propose to you. Because you're the most brilliant woman I've ever met."

She smiled at him, returning his own smile...
u
ntil both those smiles faded, and all they did was look at each other.

The tension was back, twofold. Had they really believed they could go
for a
ride
in the Promenade, be civil and polite to each other, behave as if they were nothing more than two people who had only recently met
,
and might possibly enjoy each other's company for an hour?