which he hoped to make the object of his affections jealous - whichever of them that was. She let Rodney drive her in silence through the cobbled streets while she thought hard. She could not puzzle out what was going on but as the carriage drew to a stop in front of her house an obvious thought struck her. The best was to get Rodney to forget her was to give him an opportunity to get to know Lady Susannah better, and as soon as possible. Tara found herself smiling sunnily at Rodney as he helped her to alight; she knew just the way to do it.
Gentlemen, Tara knew, were inclined to rise late, take lunch either at home or at their clubs, and otherwise have no pressing engagements until at least mid-afternoon. After that everything they did got increasingly more important; they dined with a small group of friends, then went onto a ball, the theatre or other organised evening event and finally wound up the night somewhere rather more select where they played cards or pursued other leisure activities of their choice until they sky started to lighten. Then, the day well spent, they retired to their beds to fortify themselves for the morrow.
Accordingly at eleven o’clock the next morning she instructed her manservant, Bode, to take a note to Freddie expressing her desire to call on him after lunch that afternoon. Freddie was certain to be in to receive her message, she reflected, if not actually awake. She couldn’t help thinking of Leo though, she was sure he had been hard at work for hours - he seemed to set such store by the quality of the light and it was at its most brilliant in the morning. She suspected that he only saw clients in the afternoon in deference to their habits not his own. Somehow, despite seeing him at Lord Carlshot’s ball she could not imagine him letting his precious time trickle away by sleeping late the next morning, he was far too driven for that.
‘Did Mr Palmer send any answer?’ she asked Bode when he returned.
‘Not as such, my lady,’ Bode said. ‘But his gentleman’s gentleman gave me to understand that your visit would be most welcome.’
After lunch she set off for Freddie’s. ‘My dear Tara,’ he said, kissing her hand as she was shown into his drawing room. ‘Would you care for a glass of wine?’ Tara was about to say it was a little early in the day for her when it occurred to her that if she declined Freddie would have to also, and abstinence was not perhaps the best of conditions under which to ask a favour.
She smiled up at him. ‘That would be delightful.’ With alacrity Freddie poured glasses for them both and seeing the relish with which he tasted his own wine, Tara knew that she had made the right decision. ‘I have a tremendous favour to ask you,’ she said as he joined her on the sofa.
‘Oh?’ Freddie said and she was glad to see that he looked interested rather than worried.
‘I was hoping that you might hold a little supper party and invite Sir Rodney and Lady Susannah Maxwell.’
‘So that’s the way you want the wind to blow,’ Freddie said with a chuckle which Tara found she could not begrudge him, his eyes were twinkling and she had a feeling he was going to acquiesce. She nodded demurely, but glanced up at him so that their eyes met, letting him see how well he had read her. ‘Is there anyone else you would like me to invite to this little soiree?’ Freddie asked.
‘Philippe La Monte?’ Tara suggested, ‘and anyone who might wish to marry him.’
Freddie laughed out loud. ‘That could be a tall order.’
‘Philippe is charming,’ Tara protested. She had no desire to marry him herself, but he was attractive, witty, and generally a good companion.
‘Oh, very charming,’ Freddie said. ‘The fellow’s likeable enough, I’ll grant you that. But that is all he is. No family, no money, who’s going to look at him?’
‘Surely not every girl in London is only interested in connections or riches,’ Tara said, trying to keep the
Gentlemen, Tara knew, were inclined to rise late, take lunch either at home or at their clubs, and otherwise have no pressing engagements until at least mid-afternoon. After that everything they did got increasingly more important; they dined with a small group of friends, then went onto a ball, the theatre or other organised evening event and finally wound up the night somewhere rather more select where they played cards or pursued other leisure activities of their choice until they sky started to lighten. Then, the day well spent, they retired to their beds to fortify themselves for the morrow.
Accordingly at eleven o’clock the next morning she instructed her manservant, Bode, to take a note to Freddie expressing her desire to call on him after lunch that afternoon. Freddie was certain to be in to receive her message, she reflected, if not actually awake. She couldn’t help thinking of Leo though, she was sure he had been hard at work for hours - he seemed to set such store by the quality of the light and it was at its most brilliant in the morning. She suspected that he only saw clients in the afternoon in deference to their habits not his own. Somehow, despite seeing him at Lord Carlshot’s ball she could not imagine him letting his precious time trickle away by sleeping late the next morning, he was far too driven for that.
‘Did Mr Palmer send any answer?’ she asked Bode when he returned.
‘Not as such, my lady,’ Bode said. ‘But his gentleman’s gentleman gave me to understand that your visit would be most welcome.’
After lunch she set off for Freddie’s. ‘My dear Tara,’ he said, kissing her hand as she was shown into his drawing room. ‘Would you care for a glass of wine?’ Tara was about to say it was a little early in the day for her when it occurred to her that if she declined Freddie would have to also, and abstinence was not perhaps the best of conditions under which to ask a favour.
She smiled up at him. ‘That would be delightful.’ With alacrity Freddie poured glasses for them both and seeing the relish with which he tasted his own wine, Tara knew that she had made the right decision. ‘I have a tremendous favour to ask you,’ she said as he joined her on the sofa.
‘Oh?’ Freddie said and she was glad to see that he looked interested rather than worried.
‘I was hoping that you might hold a little supper party and invite Sir Rodney and Lady Susannah Maxwell.’
‘So that’s the way you want the wind to blow,’ Freddie said with a chuckle which Tara found she could not begrudge him, his eyes were twinkling and she had a feeling he was going to acquiesce. She nodded demurely, but glanced up at him so that their eyes met, letting him see how well he had read her. ‘Is there anyone else you would like me to invite to this little soiree?’ Freddie asked.
‘Philippe La Monte?’ Tara suggested, ‘and anyone who might wish to marry him.’
Freddie laughed out loud. ‘That could be a tall order.’
‘Philippe is charming,’ Tara protested. She had no desire to marry him herself, but he was attractive, witty, and generally a good companion.
‘Oh, very charming,’ Freddie said. ‘The fellow’s likeable enough, I’ll grant you that. But that is all he is. No family, no money, who’s going to look at him?’
‘Surely not every girl in London is only interested in connections or riches,’ Tara said, trying to keep the
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