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“He is just . . . one among many,” she managed to say in an offhand manner. “I am in no rush to settle with any. I prefer to enjoy my season.”

“That is wise,” he said quietly.

Later that afternoon, after Rees had left, Megan knocked on Jessamine’s door.

“Come in.”

Megan crossed the room and stood looking down at her. “Are you all right?” she asked hesitantly.

Jessamine sat propped up in her bed against her pillows, an opened book in her lap. She attempted a careless tone. “Yes, of course. I am glad I could see Rees and know he no longer affects me in that way.”

She withstood Megan’s searching look until finally her friend seemed satisfied. “I am glad.”

“When shall you pay her a visit?”

Megan didn’t ask to whom she referred. “Tomorrow.” Thankfully she didn’t ask Jessamine to accompany her.

Instead, Megan sat down beside her on the counterpane and began to pluck at a thread. “He’s asked me to . . . stay with them.”

Jessamine stared at her friend’s bowed head. Before she could rally herself to express her best wishes for her, Megan hurried on, “I have so little chance to see my brother, and he is to be in London so short a time.”

Jessamine covered Megan’s hand with her own, stilling its nervous movements. “Of course you must go.”

Megan’s gray eyes still looked troubled—in the same way Rees’s had the day he told her to forget him. “It’s not just for the time Rees is here. He—he wants me to stay on and accompany Céline.”

Slowly, Jessamine removed her hand from her friend’s. “I see.”

“He asked me especially. He says he doesn’t want her to be alone when he leaves since he doesn’t know how long this crisis is to last.”

“Doesn’t she have anyone of her own?” Jessamine couldn’t help blurting out, then bit her lip, regretting the question, which sounded so ungracious.

Megan shook her head. “Her mother is in France and she has no one close in England. No one but the late Earl of Wexham’s family, and they are not close. Her former sister-in-law used to live with her, but from what Rees told me, she has always been jealous
of Céline and done her much harm. At any rate, her sister-in-law has gone to live with the new Earl of Wexham and his wife.”

Jessamine stared down at the counterpane. “Well, you must do as he wishes.”

“I wouldn’t if he hadn’t asked me expressly. He knows I don’t want to leave you.”

Jessamine forced a laugh. “I shall be fine with Lady Bess. And it’s not as if we shan’t see one another.” Except now it would mean having to see her usurper as well.

“Of course not!” Megan let out a breath of relief. “I shall visit you every day.” Her enthusiasm quickly returned, although it sounded a bit too cheery to Jessamine’s finely attuned ears.

Megan jumped up from the bed with a final pat to Jessamine’s hand. “Well, I shall meet Rees’s wife tomorrow. She’s probably a haggard old shrew,” she threw out as final sop before leaving the room.

Jessamine was only able to muster up a lackluster smile, which faded as soon as Megan shut the door behind her.

When Megan returned from visiting her brother the next day, she said little about his wife except that she seemed nice. Jessamine knew Megan was trying to spare her feelings, because if there had been anything the least unfavorable, she would have been sure to mention it and even exaggerate it.

Jessamine and the maid helped Megan pack her belongings. Rees would come with a carriage later to collect her.

“It’s a lovely house on Berkeley Square, so close to Hyde Park. I hope you come to visit me.”

Jessamine pretended to bend down to retrieve a handkerchief off the floor to avoid answering.

Megan changed the subject to an upcoming ball. They’d both received invitations, confirming their success at the first. “I think I shall wear this ivory crepe. I haven’t worn it yet.” She held it up to herself. “What do you think?”

“It’s very pretty. The color looks most becoming against your complexion and hair.”

“Which gown will you wear?”

“Perhaps the new amber sarcenet with the blonde lace.”

Megan breathed in. “It’s so lovely. I can’t wait to see it on you.”

They spoke some more about what accessories they would wear with their gowns and how they would dress their hair. Jessamine thought about her restored necklace and how well it would match her gown.

She still hadn’t come up with a way to repay Mr. Marfleet. She did not want to be in his debt any longer than absolutely necessary. It was an intolerable situation.

Every time she met Mr. Marfleet at a ball or assembly, she would be reminded of that awful night of her first ball.

When the fancy coach came to collect Megan in the early evening, Jessamine braced herself to face Rees again, but only a groom accompanied the coach.

“Rees had a late meeting at the Foreign Office,” Megan read from a note. “I shan’t see him until later this evening.”

With a sense of relief, Jessamine turned her attention to helping Megan collect all her smaller articles of luggage. Then the two embraced.

“I shall see you tomorrow,” Megan promised, then quickly bit her lip. “Perhaps if I come by early, we can go for our usual walk before anyone else is up, the way we are accustomed to?”

Jessamine withdrew from the embrace though she kept a loose hold on her friend’s forearms. “Why don’t you wait and see what M-Mrs. Phillips’s schedule is first?” she suggested, tripping over the name. The only Mrs. Phillips she’d known was Rees’s mother. She took in a breath, plowing on. “If you have time during the day, feel free to call, but if not, we shall see each other at the ball.”

Megan nodded slowly. “Very well.” Then she giggled. “If we
don’t see each other before then, we can surprise each other with how beautiful we look.”

“You shall probably have a French maid to dress your hair, so it is not a fair contest.”

Megan’s smile widened. “I shall use every means available to look my best—not to outshine you but to find my prince charming at the ball.” Reluctantly, Megan pushed away with a sigh. “I shall send a note over tomorrow to tell you how everything is.”

“Thank you, but there is no rush. I know you shall be fine and I don’t expect much to alter here.”

With a final nod and tentative smile, Megan allowed the liveried footman to help her into the coach. Jessamine watched the step being lifted, the door shut, and the footman take his place at the rear with a call to the coachman to depart.

The horse hooves clopped over the cobblestones, the iron wheels grating. Megan pushed down the window and waved.

Jessamine forced a smile and waved back.

When the coach was out of sight, Jessamine reentered the silent house with a weary sigh. Lady Bess was out dining with a friend and attending a card party afterward.

Jessamine faced her first evening in London alone.

Despite what Megan had told Rees about their popularity, their calling card tray had remained empty the last couple of days.

Determined not to mope, she climbed the stairs slowly, trying not to notice how quiet the house seemed without Megan’s lively voice.

In her room, she opened the oak clothespress and took out her ball gown to examine it, already thinking of having to dress without Megan’s help.

She would doubtless see Rees at the ball. Surely he’d escort his sister. And Mrs. Phillips? Would she be seen in society? It all depended on her condition.

Whether Jessamine would see her or only Rees, she was determined to look her best.

To her surprise, the next afternoon Mr. St. Leger called on her and invited her to ride in the park in his phaeton. She latched onto it as a lifeline thrown to her. Mr. St. Leger, handsome, fashionable, appearing bored by all society had to offer, had singled her out. Perhaps her fortunes were finally about to change.

She quickly ran upstairs to change her gown for something more appropriate to be seen riding in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour.

She donned a sprigged muslin with jade trim and over it a jade spencer. She gave herself a final inspection in the mirror, adjusting the angle of her poke bonnet, which was trimmed with a matching shade of ribbons and small pink rosettes. She did not want to appear to disadvantage beside Mr. St. Leger’s elegance.

When he was announced, she ran down the stairs to the drawing room, where he waited. “I am ready,” she said, feeling suddenly shy at the thought of going with this elegant dandy on a ride in an open carriage. He was dressed nattily in buckskin breeches, top boots, and a dark brown jacket fitted snugly over his broad shoulders. He took his time inspecting her outfit and finally declared, “You are looking fetching.”

Her cheeks flushed, understanding how a young gentleman must have felt when given a nod of approval by Brummell himself. “Thank you.”

Remembering Lady Bess’s caution about rakes and young blades about town, she had a few qualms about going alone with a gentleman, but they disappeared as soon as she stepped outside and saw his shiny phaeton standing on the curb, a beautiful chestnut pair harnessed to it. Her spirits lifted. To drive in Hyde Park with an eligible gentleman of the ton, that was favor indeed.

The presence of his tiger reassured her as well. She allowed him to help her up and took her place beside Mr. St. Leger.

“Are you ready to be ogled by every driver on Rotten Row?”

He had been astounded to know she’d never ridden on the famous riding path in Hyde Park.

“I’m sure there are too many others to be ogled,” she demurred.

His tiger took his place in the rumble at the back, and Mr. St. Leger took up the reins, setting the horses in motion. They kept up a smart pace down the cobbled street but slowed as traffic increased on Oxford Street.

They didn’t speak much after that as he concentrated on maneuvering the busy streets. Jessamine relaxed, taking pleasure in seeing everything from the view of a high, open carriage. People stopped to watch the smart vehicle drive by. As they turned onto Park Avenue, he was able to pick up the pace again. He saluted other drivers of his acquaintance with his whip. Hyde Park’s vast fields spread before them to her right.

They didn’t enter the park until they had reached Hyde Park Corner at the southeast corner. “There’s Number One, Apsley House,” he said, pointing his whip at a large brick mansion before the park. “It belongs to the Duke of Wellington’s older brother.”

“I wonder if the duke will be obliged to face Napoleon in battle.”

“There is no telling. If he does, it will be the first time.”

A moment later, he pointed out Tattersall’s.

“The horse auctioneers?” she asked hesitantly.

“The very one. It is where I purchased this fine pair.”

“They are beautiful horses.” She had never thought too much of horses except as farm animals. But since hearing the conversation of the gentlemen at the ball, she realized horses were a passion among them.

The traffic was congested before the Hyde Park Corner tollhouse gate, but they turned in beforehand near the formal gardens at the rear of Apsley House. Here the park traffic forced Mr. St. Leger to slow to a crawl.

Riding on Rotten Row proved an eye-opening experience, vastly different from her morning walks in the park with Megan.

Now the sandy path was crammed with carriages inching along. Mr. St. Leger nodded and tipped his hat as a landau passed them.
Two ladies seated within smiled before eyeing her. One drew close to the other to say something.

Jessamine was soon distracted by the other vehicles jamming the driving lane. There were several gentlemen and uniformed soldiers riding horseback and a few more daring ladies doing the same. The traffic was further slowed by all those who were walking on the footpath alongside the Row, the two dirt paths separated by only a low row of wooden posts. The carriages stopped frequently for their occupants to chat a few moments with their acquaintances on foot.

Jessamine recognized almost no one.

Mr. St. Leger, however, seemed to know everyone, especially the gentlemen on horseback. He always introduced her first. There was a speculative look in the eyes of the gentlemen for a few seconds before they would get busy talking horses or races.

She smiled when she finally saw a familiar face from the ball. Cubby drew up in a yellow curricle. “Hallo there, Miss Barry. If I’d known you like to drive, I’d have invited you myself.”

“Hello, Cubby,” Mr. St. Leger drawled as Jessamine smiled her greeting. “Finally taking your grays out for air?”

Cubby looked proudly at his horses. “I exercise them regularly.”

“You mean your groom does.”

They bandied about insults for a few more moments before Mr. St. Leger greeted another rider.

Cubby drew his curricle closer to her side. “How have you fared since Lady Fortescue’s ball?”

Jessamine blushed, wondering if he were referring to her indisposition. “Very well, thank you.”

“We missed seeing you at the rout last night at the Buxtons.”

She had known of no rout but merely smiled. “I’m sure it was a sad crush I’m glad to have missed.”

“Not so tired from the dancing that you won’t be ready to kick up your heels at the Waverley ball?”

She laughed in relief, having received an invitation to that ball. “No, indeed. I look forward to it.” On impulse she added, “I wouldn’t want my new gown to go to waste.”

Cubby’s eyes lit up. “A new gown, eh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I await in anticipation.”

He touched his gloved hand to the brim of his top hat. “Until then, Miss Barry.”

They continued moving along the drive. The day was clear and warm, and Jessamine’s spirits lifted at being out-of-doors in an area that seemed far from the city. She had received a brief note from Megan just as she’d promised, but it had contained few details. Jessamine assumed she must be very busy in her new surroundings.

“You have made a favorable impression on Cubby. He is not easily taken with young ladies in their first season.”

She arched an eyebrow at Mr. St. Leger. “How unfair of him. Here we try our best to primp and do everything in our power to fascinate and please the company, only to have those like Mr. Fane disdain our efforts.”