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Authors: The Dream Chasers
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grinned. ‘Let us say his past would no more bear investigation than mine own — probably less.’
‘Well, he has some entrée into society,’ remarked the Major. He smiled at Eustacia. ‘However, I think you can put him out of your mind, child. While you are living under the protection of your godmother, even if MacCauley did recognize you, he could hardly say so, for who would believe him? Rest easy, child. He cannot hurt you.’
Chapter Six
Miss Marchant found it easy enough to follow the major’s advice and forget about Nathan MacCauley, for her days were taken up with numerous fittings for new gowns, and trips to such fascinating shopping-places as the Pantheon Bazaar with Miss Cardwell, her ladyship’s dresser, to purchase the gloves, stockings and reticules necessary for any young lady’s wardrobe. However, Eustacia did not lose sight of her reason for coming to London, and as each day passed she fretted that she was no closer to finding Rupert Alleyne. Miss Marchant’s nature was to act, and the idea of meeting Rupert by chance did not appeal to her, but Lady Bilderston had announced that she should live quietly until she had suitable gowns to wear, so that her entrance into society would be at Lady Trentham’s ball, a full week away. Eustacia’s impatient spirit chafed at such a delay, and the only outlets for her energies were an occasional drive in the park with her godmama or Mrs Lagallan, and her daily walks with Snuffles, Lady Bilderston’s pet spaniel. Taking Snuffles for his morning exercise had very quickly become Eustacia’s first task of the day, and because of the proximity of the little railed gardens that gave their name to the area, she was allowed to sally forth unencumbered by a maid or a footman.
* * * *
It was on one such outing, the morning following her carriage ride with Caroline Lagallan, that the idea first came to Eustacia. As she left the gardens she caught sight of a young couple standing on the corner, closely studying a guidebook. Eustacia halted as a plan began to form itself in her mind, then, with a quickened step, she hurried back to the house, almost dragging Snuffles along with her.
‘Avebury,’ she addressed the butler as he took the dog’s leash and prepared to lead the animal away, ‘do we have a guidebook of London in the house?’
‘I believe there may be some such thing in the red saloon, Miss.’
‘And - and does it contain a street guide, do you think?’ she pursued.
‘Why yes, Miss, I believe it does. Perhaps you would like me to find it for you?’
‘No, no, I will do that myself, while you take Snuffles to the kitchen for a titbit. The red saloon, you said?’
‘Yes, Miss. It’s on the first floor, and was used to be called the study, when his lordship was alive, and any books we may have will be found there, her ladyship not being much of a reader,’ he added, his countenance wooden. ‘But if you was wishful to go anywhere in particular, Miss, I am sure one of the footmen would be perfectly able to escort you . . .’
‘No, no, that will not be necessary, thank you, Avebury.’ Eustacia favoured the old retainer with a sweet smile, and made her way upstairs.
The red saloon was a small room tucked away at the back of the house and furnished in an outdated style with heavy, dark furniture, including a large desk. Although the furniture was not shrouded in Holland covers, the room was rarely used, Lady Bilderston preferring to write her letters at the pretty little writing-desk in the morning-room. After several minutes, Eustacia found the guidebook in a large glass-fronted bookcase, and sat down at the desk to study this informative little tome.
She had heard enough from her godmama, and from Mr Lagallan and his brother to know that the most probable places to find Mr Alleyne during the day would be in the fashionable areas of New Bond Street, the Mall or Piccadilly. She also knew that the gentlemen’s clubs most likely to
‘Well, he has some entrée into society,’ remarked the Major. He smiled at Eustacia. ‘However, I think you can put him out of your mind, child. While you are living under the protection of your godmother, even if MacCauley did recognize you, he could hardly say so, for who would believe him? Rest easy, child. He cannot hurt you.’
Chapter Six
Miss Marchant found it easy enough to follow the major’s advice and forget about Nathan MacCauley, for her days were taken up with numerous fittings for new gowns, and trips to such fascinating shopping-places as the Pantheon Bazaar with Miss Cardwell, her ladyship’s dresser, to purchase the gloves, stockings and reticules necessary for any young lady’s wardrobe. However, Eustacia did not lose sight of her reason for coming to London, and as each day passed she fretted that she was no closer to finding Rupert Alleyne. Miss Marchant’s nature was to act, and the idea of meeting Rupert by chance did not appeal to her, but Lady Bilderston had announced that she should live quietly until she had suitable gowns to wear, so that her entrance into society would be at Lady Trentham’s ball, a full week away. Eustacia’s impatient spirit chafed at such a delay, and the only outlets for her energies were an occasional drive in the park with her godmama or Mrs Lagallan, and her daily walks with Snuffles, Lady Bilderston’s pet spaniel. Taking Snuffles for his morning exercise had very quickly become Eustacia’s first task of the day, and because of the proximity of the little railed gardens that gave their name to the area, she was allowed to sally forth unencumbered by a maid or a footman.
* * * *
It was on one such outing, the morning following her carriage ride with Caroline Lagallan, that the idea first came to Eustacia. As she left the gardens she caught sight of a young couple standing on the corner, closely studying a guidebook. Eustacia halted as a plan began to form itself in her mind, then, with a quickened step, she hurried back to the house, almost dragging Snuffles along with her.
‘Avebury,’ she addressed the butler as he took the dog’s leash and prepared to lead the animal away, ‘do we have a guidebook of London in the house?’
‘I believe there may be some such thing in the red saloon, Miss.’
‘And - and does it contain a street guide, do you think?’ she pursued.
‘Why yes, Miss, I believe it does. Perhaps you would like me to find it for you?’
‘No, no, I will do that myself, while you take Snuffles to the kitchen for a titbit. The red saloon, you said?’
‘Yes, Miss. It’s on the first floor, and was used to be called the study, when his lordship was alive, and any books we may have will be found there, her ladyship not being much of a reader,’ he added, his countenance wooden. ‘But if you was wishful to go anywhere in particular, Miss, I am sure one of the footmen would be perfectly able to escort you . . .’
‘No, no, that will not be necessary, thank you, Avebury.’ Eustacia favoured the old retainer with a sweet smile, and made her way upstairs.
The red saloon was a small room tucked away at the back of the house and furnished in an outdated style with heavy, dark furniture, including a large desk. Although the furniture was not shrouded in Holland covers, the room was rarely used, Lady Bilderston preferring to write her letters at the pretty little writing-desk in the morning-room. After several minutes, Eustacia found the guidebook in a large glass-fronted bookcase, and sat down at the desk to study this informative little tome.
She had heard enough from her godmama, and from Mr Lagallan and his brother to know that the most probable places to find Mr Alleyne during the day would be in the fashionable areas of New Bond Street, the Mall or Piccadilly. She also knew that the gentlemen’s clubs most likely to
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