I can to prevent it from happening.’
‘Then we shall have to agree to differ.’
Esme, who had been listening to the exchange with growing dismay, wished she had never mentioned the invitation. Lucy had been so proud of it when she showed it to her and it seemed a good way to counter all Rosemary’s boasting about how well-thought-of in society her husband was, how everyone envied her taste in her furnishings and the cleverness of her precious child, and now she had set the two men against each other.
‘Esme, let us retire to the drawing room and leave the men to continue their argument over the port,’ Rosemary said, rising from her chair.
‘I didn’t mean to cause dissent,’ Esme said as she followed her sister to the drawing room. ‘I had no idea—’
‘No, that’s the trouble with you, Esme, you tend to speak before you think. I beg you to curb it or you will upset the very people you should be pleasing.’
‘I am sorry, Rosie. I know you have put yourself at great inconvenience to bring me out and I am truly grateful. I will try very hard to be a credit to you.’
‘Then we will say no more. Men like to argue, especially strong-minded men like Rowan and Myles, but I don’t think it will lead to a serious falling out.’ She busied herself with the tea things while she spoke. ‘Now, let us talk of other things. We will go shopping tomorrow and see if we can get you kitted out ready for the season, though it will not get properly under way for a good two weeks. We shall have to amuse ourselves in the meantime.’
‘Oh, I am sure we can do that. We can go for walks and visit the sights and I should like to ride. Will that be possible?’
‘Perfectly possible. Hacks are easily hired.’ She handed Esme a cup of tea. ‘Do you know how long Myles is planning to stay in town?’
Myles, when he offered to escort Esme, had been invited to stay at Trent House while he was conducting his business, but at that time she had expected Lucy to be with him. She had no idea of the nature of his business, whether it was simply to attend the banquet or if it were something to do with his railway or engineering concerns.
‘I know he is anxious to return to Lucy and see how Harry is, so I think he cannot be planning to stay above a couple of days. Are you wishing you had not asked him?’
‘Good gracious, no! He is family and it would have looked most odd not to have invited him. I cannot think why he does not buy a town house; he could easily afford it.’
‘Lucy prefers to live in the country and says it would be a dreadful waste to keep a house and servants in town when she would hardly ever be in residence.’
The men joined them at that point and appeared to have overcome their hostility. They sat and drank tea and made light conversation, most of it of a social nature, carefully avoiding renewing the subject of the Exhibition and the Prince Consort’s banquet.
Rowan agreed that it was impossible for Esme to go out and about in Lucy’s cast-off clothes, which very nearly started Myles off on another argument, but he wisely held his peace. The carriage was put at Rosemary’s disposal for the next morning so that she could take her sister shopping and Rowan readily agreed to foot the bill for the new wardrobe.
When they dispersed to go to their beds, Esme contrived to walk a little way with Myles. ‘I am so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘It was not my idea to buy new clothes and I would not for the world have Lucy think ill of me.’
‘I am sure she would understand.’ He grinned. ‘And it will be grand to have a new wardrobe, won’t it?’
‘Yes, as long as I am not put into frills and flounces. I hate them.’
The shopping expedition was not a leisurely affair; Rosemary knew exactly what was wanted and was determined Esme should be a credit to her good taste. In every shop they entered the assistants hurried forward to serve her, though Esme would have liked a little more time to browse and view what was on offer, she was obliged to admit that Rosemary’s choice was excellent and flounces, frills and bows were kept to a minimum. ‘You have a very good figure,’ Rosemary told her. ‘Simple clothes will show it off to advantage.’ The material and pattern of the gown she would wear for her curtsy to the Queen took the longest to be decided upon and was to be made up by Madame Devereux, Rosemary’s own dressmaker. The bodice of the dress had to be low cut and the skirt very full with a long train. Accessories like slippers, fan, jewellery and feathers had to be chosen with care to conform to the rigid rules laid down by protocol.
By the middle of the afternoon, they were on their way back to Trent House with the carriage loaded down with purchases and more to be delivered in the coming days. Shopping with her mother in Leicester and Peterborough was never like this. There, it would be an all-day affair with her mother complaining of the lack of choice and the high prices and wondering aloud what her father would say when presented with the bill, though it never stopped her buying something she wanted. Rosemary had never once mentioned the price of anything.
They turned from Oxford Street, where Rosemary had purchased some lengths of ribbon, into the northern end of Park Lane. Esme glimpsed green grass through the trees and longed to go for a walk. At home in Luffenham she walked or rode everywhere and already she was missing her daily exercise. ‘Is that Hyde Park, Rosie?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Is it possible to walk home through it?’
‘Yes, perfectly possible.’
‘Then do let’s walk. Banny can take the coach home and put the shopping away.’
‘We have to go to Lady Aviemore’s to tea.’ Her ladyship was, according to Rosemary, a notable hostess and knew everyone of any importance and she could—if she took to Esme—be influential in introducing her to other young people, among whom might be a suitable husband. She would know the history behind every one of them. Who could safely be cultivated and who best to avoid. ‘Once you are out, she can help us get you seen and noticed,’ Rosemary had told her sister. ‘So it is important you make the right impression.’
‘That is hours away. Come on, Rosie, I want to explore.’
‘Very well.’ Rosemary asked the driver to stop and they left the coach and entered the park by Brook Gate and were soon strolling along one of the many walks towards the Serpentine.
In spite of the fact that London was, according to Rosemary, quite empty, they met several people she knew and they stopped to chat. Esme was presented to them and exchanged the usual pleasantries, but she was not particularly interested in what they had to say and her attention wandered to her surroundings. The park, once on the outskirts but now in the heart of London, was an oasis of green. There was a wide tree-lined carriageway and several paths for pedestrians and the famous Rotten Row where horsemen and women showed off their mounts. Her curiosity was aroused by a slim young man in a single-breasted green riding coat and biscuit-coloured riding breeches, who was very deliberately pacing the ground and making notes on a pad he was carrying. Every now and then he looked up at a group of elms that graced that corner of the park and appeared to be sizing them up and drawing them. She took a step closer to see what he was about.
He must have sensed her presence because he suddenly turned and looked straight at her. She found herself catching her breath because he was the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life. His eyes, she noted, were greenish brown and they were laughing, not at her, she was sure of that, but in a kind of amused empathy, as if he understood her curiosity and was not in the least put off by it. His hair, beneath a brown beaver hat, was a little darker than gold and curled into his neck. His hands, holding his notepad and pencil, were lean like the rest of him, the fingers tapered. An artist, she decided. He smiled at her, put his finger to the brim of his hat and tilted it towards her. Her answering smile lit her face as if she had suddenly met someone she had known long ago and hadn’t seen for a while.
‘Esme, who is that?’ Rosemary had said