After what seemed an eternity, she arrived at her house, a few streets away from their original destination of the park. If only she’d raised more of a fuss when he’d passed those gates, she would still have a first kiss to give, and her arms wouldn’t have finger-sized bruises. Before the self-recriminations could settle in, she said aloud, “Yes, and that bastard wouldn’t be walking home.”
She jumped down from the swaying seat and clutched the side of the carriage, waiting for her legs to support her.
Montague would never touch her again.
As she climbed the stairs, keeping her footfalls steady, tears pooled in her eyes. Counting her steps, she clung to control. Five. Then to the door. Eight.
Dawson opened the door. The first tear fell with her stuttering exhale as her feet crossed the threshold, and his concerned expression loosed the rest of the tears.
“Thank you, Dawson. Please have the carriage returned to Mr. Montague’s address.”
“Are you all right, milady?”
She ignored the tear trailing down her cheek and summoned a smile. “I will be, Dawson. My association with Mr. Montague has come to an end. Under no circumstances is he welcome in this home.”
Dawson straightened to attention. “Mr. Montague shall never be permitted entry, milady. I’ll notify the staff.” The man might be older than Moses, but Lottie understood why Agatha liked him.
“Thank you. I’ll be in my room, if you’d be so kind as to send Darling to me.” Lottie turned on her heel with precise movements while her heart fluttered in her chest like a panicked bird in a cage. The last bit of fight seeped out of her. She needed to sit down soon, before the trembling overtook her entirely.
Steady on.
Just a little farther.
The fragile composure lasted until she closed her bedroom door. Clenching her hands into fists until her fingernails stung her palms, she repeated one thought like a mantra. No matter what she’d lost, in the end she had won. It was vital she remember that.
Chapter Ten
Ethan leaned a shoulder against the wall, crossing one foot over the other. The antics in front of him were the perfect entertainment on his first morning back in London.
“Admit defeat, Puppy. I’ve been doing this far longer than you,” Cal taunted, advancing toward his opponent on the red carpet of the long gallery.
Adam Hardwick’s grin flashed fast as his rapier as he countered each move with whip-thin arms that seemed to be an extension of the sword. At first, Ethan worried for the younger man—Calvin would trounce him with complete disregard for Adam’s obvious case of hero worship.
Turned out, he should have saved the concern for Cal. Obnoxious bravado aside, everyone in this gallery knew Adam was going to win. It was just a matter of time.
“You’re flapping your jaw an awful lot for someone who should be conserving his energy,” the Puppy replied. Blades flashed through the sunlight from the windows. Hardwick’s tightly shorn red hair atop his thin, freckled frame made him resemble a lit candle as he held his own, occasionally dodging a shiny sword with nimble alacrity. What he lacked in finesse, he made up for with speed and dogged determination. The lad had his fair share of raw talent as well.
“Did you just imply that I’m old?” Cal sounded almost wheezy.
“If the shoe fits,” the Puppy said, not a bit of breathlessness interrupting his chirpy impudence.
Ethan laughed, shaking his head. Yes, this was so much better than arguing with masonry workers. A moment later Adam disarmed Cal with a flourish, leaving Cal with his chest heaving, staring at his sword five feet away.
Cal bowed to his grinning opponent. “Well played, Puppy. Let’s go downstairs to the breakfast room. If I have to endure you rubbing this in my face all morning, I’ll need sustenance. Join us, Mac?”
Ethan shook his head. “I thought I’d go next door and coax Lady Charlotte out for a ride. The last time I saw her, we parted ways under unpleasant circumstances.”
“Lady Charlotte?” Adam asked.
“Mac is on a mission to make an arse of himself over the lady next door. Again,” Cal explained as he wrapped the swords in oilcloth.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “I’m trying tae make amends. I destroyed her first Season with an unflattering nickname.”
“Oh, you mean that Paper Doll nonsense. I read something about that. How do you propose making up for ruining her Season?” Adam had a face full of freckles and kind eyes. No judgment, just curiosity.
Ethan could see why Calvin liked him. “I have no idea, but—”
Cal interrupted, “The entire thing is a disaster waiting to happen. It’s great fun to watch. I’ll try to get you an invitation the next time we go out.”
“Does this woman have dark curly hair? Pretty?” Adam asked.
Ethan nodded.
“I passed her when I arrived. She looked to be on her way out for a ride.”
Ethan straightened. “Which way was she headed? Perhaps I can run into her.” He owed her an apology for butting in about Montague last week. Besides, call him a glutton for punishment, but he wanted to see her.
Adam jerked his head in the direction of every decent park in the area. Green Park, St. James’s Park, and Hyde Park. Hundreds of acres of green space. Hyde Park alone was over three hundred acres. It would be a happy coincidence if he found her.
A short while later Ethan entered the Grosvenor Gate of Hyde Park. As if manifested from his mind, she sat in profile, confident and entirely at home atop a beautiful bay several yards away. She held her mount in place, looking out at the park trails. What she searched for, Ethan didn’t know, but she certainly made a pretty picture. Like a painting titled Lady on Horseback. A groom waited patiently behind her. Several curls escaped down her back from what might have once been an elegant coiffure, so perhaps she’d already been for her run this morning.
Ethan waved. “Lady Charlotte, might I have a word?”
Drawing closer, he noticed the dark
