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of the entrance hall into the safety of his study.
    Despite the mild weather, a sudden chill ran up his spine, echoing his fear. Was his mother proving to be an inadequate chaperon?
    “Where are you meeting Miss Branford?” Even to his own ears his voice sounded harsh.
    “Why, Hyde Park, naturally.” Penning adjusted his top hat. “’Tis a known fact the lady enjoys a brisk drive alongside the bank of the Serpentine.”
    All thoughts of walking now disappeared. Grabbing hold of the seat bench, David jumped up onto his friend’s phaeton. “Changed my mind, Penning. Take me to Hyde Park.”
    “Stap me! I’ll ferry you anywhere you wish, old fellow. Just temper that fierce face of yours, hey? ’Tis akin to driving with the devil himself.”
    David declined to comply nor reply. As Penning’s competent hands urged his carriage forward, David mulled over his unfortunate predicament. Women. He had just recently gotten his sister safely married off. His mother, well, she was a law unto herself. No pulling the reins in on that woman.
    But Miss Branford — if she fell in with the wrong characters, she would be a liability waiting to happen. It would behoove the Earl of Ingraham to take a more personal interest in his cousin’s introduction to society.
    And if he had to play matchmaker to that comely chit to insure she made an acceptable match, so be it.
    Anything to get her off of his hands.

    Sitting next to Mr. Fenwick in his tilbury, Bethany glanced at the autumn foliage of Hyde Park. The dazzling array of colors — oranges, yellows, reds, and of course greens was breathtaking to behold.
    She was not alone in her enjoyment. All of London, it seemed, was within the confines of the park, taking advantage of the fine weather and nature’s vibrant display. In carriages, on horseback, and on foot, people crowded the pathways as if this was their last chance to revel in the glorious outdoors.
    Her companion glanced over at her and smiled. “There is a decided crush today, wouldn’t you say? But then again Sundays are usually swarming with sightseers, from the tops of society to those who give themselves airs of importance and pretend to ascend to these lofty heights.”
    Bethany waved away his snobbish attitude. Indeed, in that he reminded her of Bamburgh’s blacksmith Mr. Jarvis, only the gentleman by her side — debatedly — had a higher social standing.
    “I can understand the reason for crowds of carriages and pedestrians, sir. The park is delightful. I will never tire of gazing at these majestic trees.” She swept her gaze out past the colorful foliage to the lake beyond. “And also the swans floating on the waters of the Serpentine.”
    The shade from the stately trees lining the road caused the October breeze to feel cooler than a few moments ago. She pulled the warmth of her shawl around the shoulders of her new stylish pelisse.
    “As lovely as the park is, it does not hold a candle to you, Miss Branford.” Mr. Fenwick turned his brown-eyed gaze from the horse’s progress and looked at her for an uncomfortable length of time.
    She frowned. Sweet talk was never acceptable to her, especially from a gentleman she’d only met three days ago. “You flatter me, sir.”
    Hopefully her tone contained the proper amount of disapproval.
    “The truth is never flattery, Miss Branford.”
    She shrugged, then glanced down at a barking dog that chased the open carriage in front of them. Every now and then the animal nipped at the horse’s legs — an extremely hazardous action. The dog was very brave not to be concerned about being trampled by horse hooves.
    Brave, or blissfully unaware of the danger.
    At the crossroads ahead, a fashionable phaeton traversed the road in front of them. The dashing female driving the carriage held the reins with one gloved hand and waved at them with the other.
    As Bethany numbered very few acquaintances in London, the lady must have been greeting Mr. Fenwick, so she glanced over at