Read Online Must Love Breeches by Angela Quarles - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angela Quarles
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Isabelle could respond, Ada jumped in. “Thank you, Mrs. Somerville. This is very gracious of you. I will send a note to my mother by this afternoon’s post to see if she may return with me.”
Ada turned to Isabelle. “Do not concern yourself with this. We will call on Lady Huxton this afternoon and leave my card with her if she is not receiving. She is a good friend of mother’s, and I am sure when she meets you, she will extend an invitation. Besides, she is hosting a ball and will be eager to fill her rooms to bursting.” She stood and walked to Isabelle. “As for clothes, we are nearly the same build, and Mrs. Somerville’s abigail can make any necessary adjustments. This will be delightful!”
Isabelle struggled with the irony of her situation—naturally, as a historian, she’d fantasized about visiting earlier times. What historian would not ? But to live there? Really? As a woman, she was glad she hadn’t been born then; statistically, she would’ve been a poor servant with no protection or means for a better life.
No, thank you.
No, only a visit for a week or two, as a way to observe another culture. Watch history being made. Take notes. That kind of thing. Well, now her wish had been granted. She prayed it was only a visit. A short one.
She mustered a smile for Ada. “Yeah. Delightful.”
“Oh, what am I to do?” Ada flung herself back on the carriage seat. Her head jerked up, her gaze darting to the maid riding with them. She stood and knocked on the trap door. “Take us to Regent’s Park.”
Their visit to Lady Huxton had been a success, but with a cost: she’d mentioned she was in the middle of writing Ada’s mother, and how had she phrased it? Oh yes, ‘now I can give her a full report of how delighted I am with her American cousin.’
Isabelle took a deep breath, trying to unravel the knot of tension that had grown to epic proportions in her stomach. How the heck were they going to finesse this?
Ada interrupted her thoughts. “That was incredibly kind of Lord Montagu. We should have privacy upon our return to open and admire his gift. And your altered dress should be ready.”
“I didn’t know you lost your coat, too.”
Ada’s eyes lit from within. “Indeed, I did not. The gift was not for me, but rather for you.”
All the molecules in her body did a wait-what? “Me? But, I don’t understand. He gave it to you.”
“So I could give it to you. It would have been highly improper for a single gentleman to present a lady with a gift, when she is neither a relation nor his betrothed.”
He gave me a coat? What a sweetie! “Good Lord, I have so much to learn.”
He gave me a coat! Okay, can’t read anything into it. No doubt he thought it his gentlemanly duty or something. Yes. That was all.
Soon they were walking down a gravel lane in the park, the saturated light of late afternoon infusing the manicured shrubs and fussy flowers. Nice, but... Give me a wonderfully woolly herb garden and crumbling, vine-choked stone walls . Since the weather had turned warmer a month ago, she’d been working on the old herb garden at her house, splitting her free time between restoration work and gardening. Man, she missed her house. Having cereal at the small iron table in the garden... Hopefully the new plants she’d bought would survive while she was gone. That woolly garden had been such a balm to her soul, helping her to stitch herself together after her family’s death.
When the maid was at a safe distance behind, Isabelle spoke. “I’ve gotten you into a mess, haven’t I?”
Ada leaned in, hooking her arm around Isabelle’s. “I only need to write to my mother, straightaway. I had intended to, but now it is imperative. I have to let my mother know what is happening before she hears about it from Lady Huxton.”
“What do we tell her?”
Their feet crunched over the gravel for several more steps. She responded, “We will tell her the truth.”
Isabelle stopped.
Ada turned to Isabelle. “Do not concern yourself with this. We will call on Lady Huxton this afternoon and leave my card with her if she is not receiving. She is a good friend of mother’s, and I am sure when she meets you, she will extend an invitation. Besides, she is hosting a ball and will be eager to fill her rooms to bursting.” She stood and walked to Isabelle. “As for clothes, we are nearly the same build, and Mrs. Somerville’s abigail can make any necessary adjustments. This will be delightful!”
Isabelle struggled with the irony of her situation—naturally, as a historian, she’d fantasized about visiting earlier times. What historian would not ? But to live there? Really? As a woman, she was glad she hadn’t been born then; statistically, she would’ve been a poor servant with no protection or means for a better life.
No, thank you.
No, only a visit for a week or two, as a way to observe another culture. Watch history being made. Take notes. That kind of thing. Well, now her wish had been granted. She prayed it was only a visit. A short one.
She mustered a smile for Ada. “Yeah. Delightful.”
“Oh, what am I to do?” Ada flung herself back on the carriage seat. Her head jerked up, her gaze darting to the maid riding with them. She stood and knocked on the trap door. “Take us to Regent’s Park.”
Their visit to Lady Huxton had been a success, but with a cost: she’d mentioned she was in the middle of writing Ada’s mother, and how had she phrased it? Oh yes, ‘now I can give her a full report of how delighted I am with her American cousin.’
Isabelle took a deep breath, trying to unravel the knot of tension that had grown to epic proportions in her stomach. How the heck were they going to finesse this?
Ada interrupted her thoughts. “That was incredibly kind of Lord Montagu. We should have privacy upon our return to open and admire his gift. And your altered dress should be ready.”
“I didn’t know you lost your coat, too.”
Ada’s eyes lit from within. “Indeed, I did not. The gift was not for me, but rather for you.”
All the molecules in her body did a wait-what? “Me? But, I don’t understand. He gave it to you.”
“So I could give it to you. It would have been highly improper for a single gentleman to present a lady with a gift, when she is neither a relation nor his betrothed.”
He gave me a coat? What a sweetie! “Good Lord, I have so much to learn.”
He gave me a coat! Okay, can’t read anything into it. No doubt he thought it his gentlemanly duty or something. Yes. That was all.
Soon they were walking down a gravel lane in the park, the saturated light of late afternoon infusing the manicured shrubs and fussy flowers. Nice, but... Give me a wonderfully woolly herb garden and crumbling, vine-choked stone walls . Since the weather had turned warmer a month ago, she’d been working on the old herb garden at her house, splitting her free time between restoration work and gardening. Man, she missed her house. Having cereal at the small iron table in the garden... Hopefully the new plants she’d bought would survive while she was gone. That woolly garden had been such a balm to her soul, helping her to stitch herself together after her family’s death.
When the maid was at a safe distance behind, Isabelle spoke. “I’ve gotten you into a mess, haven’t I?”
Ada leaned in, hooking her arm around Isabelle’s. “I only need to write to my mother, straightaway. I had intended to, but now it is imperative. I have to let my mother know what is happening before she hears about it from Lady Huxton.”
“What do we tell her?”
Their feet crunched over the gravel for several more steps. She responded, “We will tell her the truth.”
Isabelle stopped.
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