*
“I intend to cause gossip,” Lady Susannah announced.
Georgette’s ears twitched at her ladyship’s tone, while Samson sat at Will’s side, bumping Will’s hand with his nose. Susannah paced before the bench in the park, her hems swishing. The day was overcast, much like Will’s mood, and thus the park was less crowded. Beyond the secluded clearing, no children yelled, no nursery maids called to their charges.
“We nearly did cause gossip,” Will replied, stroking Samson’s head. “I owe you an apology for that.”
Susannah came to a halt, her skirts settling around her half boots. “You’d apologize for those private, shared moments?”
The grass at her feet apparently fascinated her. Her reticule and straw hat sat on the bench beside Will’s leashes and his bag of cheese. Quimbey would not disturb them today. Will hoped His Grace was too busy scolding Tresham to spare time for training Comus.
“I do not apologize for private shared moments of bliss,” Will said, “but I apologize for risking your good name. Until I’m in a position to offer for you—”
“Exactly,” Susannah said, a finger jabbing the air. “A lady’s good name is her most prized possession, and Della needs to bring Effington up to scratch before she has to endure another evening like last night.”
Last night had been wonderful, until Lady Della and Tresham had begun their little drama.
“Susannah, might we sit for a moment? Samson is worried about you.” Samson worried easily. Will was worried too, though.
Her ladyship marched to the bench, and perched as if the boards spanned a nest of vipers.
“I need to make a public impression, Willow, so that all and sundry remark what a dog lover I am. I’ve come a long way, wouldn’t you agree?”
Will took the place beside Susannah, but didn’t dare reach for her hand. “You have made great progress.”
“Effington danced the good-night waltz with Della, but she said his mood was off.”
Will’s mood was going more off by the moment. “The viscount lost at the card tables, my dear. His disposition is often wanting, for he loses frequently.” Unless Effington had Yorick with him “for luck.” Will had his suspicions about the variety of luck Yorick imparted.
Susannah yanked the strings of her reticule closed. The bag was beaded and wouldn’t stand up to much rough handling.
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Willow? We’re friends, right? Friends are honest with each other.”
Will was not in the habit of pleasuring his friends in private alcoves, not in the habit of kissing them until his cock throbbed. He did not invite his friends to work with his young dogs, he did not—
Susannah had asked him something.
“Tresham and I found a green garter last night,” Will said. “Upstairs in the corridor that led to the retiring rooms. Somebody had placed it on the head of a bust of Cicero, as bold as you please. Tresham pocketed the garter, but that bit of bright green fabric had been sitting on old Cicero before Tresham and I stopped to chat, as Lord Mannering so happily informed half the world.”
Georgette took up a lean against Susannah’s knees, while the humid breeze lifted the leaves in the surrounding trees. The air was warm, hinting of summer, and summer storms.
“You’re saying somebody spotted that garter and left it in plain sight,” Susannah said. “Or worse, somebody placed that garter where all would see it, knowing Della’s wardrobe favors green.”
“Somebody wants to ruin your younger sister.” That Susannah grasped the magnitude of the malevolence Lady Della faced was for the best. Will had considered bringing up the matter with Bellefonte, but the earl would either call somebody out or dismiss the situation as schoolgirl nonsense.
Schoolgirls did not gossip around the men’s punch bowl.
“That is so…so…so mean,” Susannah said. “This goes beyond talk to actions, premeditated, malicious actions. Willow, who would do such a thing?”
More to the point, why would they do it, when Lady Della already faced a difficult first Season based on her patrimony?
“What do you know of Jonathan Tresham, my lady?”
“I know he’s Quimbey’s heir, and Della won’t say where they were introduced.”
So Susannah had interrogated her sister. That did not make Will’s next suggestion any easier.
“How would Lady Della feel about returning with you to the family seat for a few weeks?”
“What? You want her to turn tail and run, as if she’s guilty of misconduct when she’s been a pattern card of probity? You want all these interminable evenings and awkward waltzes to be for nothing? Effington would drop her before a week was out.”
Georgette put her chin on Susannah’s knee, and Samson whined.