Regina made her excuses and ordered a carriage. Then she asked her maid, Nell, to accompany her. Once they were inside, she withdrew the folded paper from her reticule to study it. She didn’t understand who would threaten her father. No one had seen anything that night, she was certain. The only witness had been their elderly footman, Frederick, who had died two years ago. No, the footman would never have betrayed them. He had worked in their household since her grandfather had been alive.
And Frederick had done everything in his power to help them.
‘Is something wrong, Lady Regina?’ Nell asked. The maid’s expression grew concerned, but Regina would never share the details with her. Although the young girl had proven herself trustworthy since she’d been hired a year ago, Regina had no intention of sharing her father’s troubles.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said, managing a smile. They continued driving through the city streets until they reached Anne’s house on the outskirts of Mayfair. Her father, Lord Blyton, had died six years ago, and her mother, Judith, had not remarried. Although Lady Anne was an earl’s daughter, she had not received any offers of marriage, due to her modest dowry and the fact that she had four older sisters, three of whom were unmarried.
Regina had offered to help her, but Anne was proud and refused to accept money or gowns. Her friend had the obstinacy of a stone wall and was determined to stand on her own feet.
As they arrived, she saw Anne walking down the stairs with her mother and two of her sisters. The look on her friend’s face was dogged, as if she were trying to avoid an execution.
When the driver opened the door to her carriage, Regina stepped out. Offering a light smile, she said, ‘Did you forget our outing today?’
Anne’s face brightened. She spoke to her mother, and before Regina could say a word, her friend had seized her hand. ‘I am so terribly sorry, Lady Regina! I had quite forgotten. Do forgive me.’ She squeezed her hand tightly in a silent warning not to undermine her. ‘Mother, I must go with Regina, for we made our plans a week ago.’
Lady Blyton gave a weak smile and waved them on. Regina lifted her hand in farewell, and within moments, Anne spoke to the driver, then climbed inside the carriage.
‘You are the answer to a prayer, my friend.’ She sighed in thanksgiving and settled back against the seat. ‘I was very nearly trapped into paying calls. Mother had a list of friends, and I thought I was about to perish of boredom.’
‘Where are we going?’ Regina asked. ‘I saw you speaking to the driver.’
‘We are going to enjoy ices at Lady Hardwicke’s,’ Anne informed her. ‘That is, if you have your pin money. And I will entertain you with all the latest gossip.’
‘I do have money,’ she agreed, knowing that Anne had no money of her own for ices. But she didn’t mind paying, though her friend might protest at first.
‘Wonderful. I shall sit and watch you enjoy the ices while I regale you with delicious tales.’ Anne beamed at the idea. ‘I know something about your laird.’ She offered a wicked smile and a wink.
‘You can tell me more after we arrive,’ Regina said. ‘I will arrange a table for us.’
They arrived at Lady Hardwicke’s, and there were several small tables with ladies seated together. Against the opposite wall, there were a few gentlemen, and the sight of a taller man gave her pause. It was Lord Camford, wearing a bottle-green coat with a cream waistcoat and buff trousers. He was bringing a fruit-flavoured ice to a fresh-faced blonde debutante. The young woman smiled brightly at him as he joined her.
A flare of irrational annoyance caught her, though it was foolish. Camford could spend time with whomever he wanted. It wasn’t jealousy, she told herself. They were friends, and it was better if he found a young woman to court. As she stole a quick look at them, she saw that the debutante was spellbound by him, while the viscount remained polite. A curious ache caught up within her gut, almost a faint note of regret—and she couldn’t say why.
‘You’re not listening to a word I’ve said, are you?’ Anne interrupted.
‘I’m sorry. I was distracted,’ she said. ‘You said something about a knight you met?’
‘Yes. Sir Roger is very handsome, though he doesn’t say much. He seems shy,’ Anne said, sighing with happiness when she spoke of him. Regina smiled, and a moment later, a young man delivered a variety of ices—vanilla, strawberry, and lemon—to their table, along with spoons.
‘I don’t believe these are ours,’ Regina said. ‘We haven’t ordered yet.’
‘They are from Lord Camford,’ the man answered.
Regina stole a look back, and the viscount smiled at her. What was he thinking, doing such a thing while he sat across from another woman? ‘I am sorry, but I cannot accept these.’
‘Yes, we can,’ Anne answered, dipping her spoon into the vanilla ice. She took a hearty bite and said, ‘Oh, dear. Now we cannot send them back.’
She nearly laughed at her friend’s mischief, though she knew the true reason was that Anne didn’t want her to pay for her ices.
‘You should thank him,’ Anne said. ‘It was very kind.’
‘He has a young lady as his guest,’ she countered. ‘I wouldn’t dream of interrupting them.’ Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder why he had done this. It might have been a whim or a friendly gesture, but it made her slightly uncomfortable.
She turned her attention back to her friend. ‘Why don’t you tell me the gossip you’ve heard about the laird?’ She needed to concentrate on Lachlan MacKinloch instead of being distracted by Lord Camford.
‘Of course. Did you hear about last night when Miss Brown fainted?’
Regina shook her head. She knew that there had been some sort
