Read Susanne Marie Knight for Free Online Page B

him to observe his response.
    He lifted his top hat, and then, of all things, he winked at the woman!
    The woman smiled archly at this display, nodded, then continued down the dirt pathway.
    Bethany pulled her shawl tighter. Goodness, was the pink blush on the woman’s cheeks from the artifice of a rouge pot?
    “Who was that lady?”
    The color of Mr. Fenwick’s red hair was now reflected on his cheeks. “I…she…well, no sense in wrapping it up in clean linen. That was Mrs. Lippincott of Drury Lane.”
    His embarrassed explanation confirmed Bethany’s belief in the matter. Heat burned her own cheeks, probably matching her companion’s florid color.
    Now eager for this outing to end, she glanced behind her. Lady Ingraham’s barouche had kept up the pace and continued to follow Mr. Fenwick’s tilbury. Behind the driver, Lady Ingraham and Lady Petunia sat like queens taking in all the splendors of the park as their just due.
    Bethany fidgeted on her seat. If only she could trade places with one of her hostesses.
    “Here is a lovely spot, Miss Branford.” Mr. Fenwick pointed to a flat area surrounded by a copse of beech trees. “Shall we rest here a moment so Lady Ingraham and Lady Petunia may join us?”
    “An excellent idea, sir.” Bethany smiled at him. No doubt Lady Ingraham would gladly switch carriages so that she could sit beside her current favorite.
    He guided the tilbury down a gentle slope and stopped in the clearing next to leafy beech trees. Lady Ingraham’s driver followed suit. While the Countess and Mr. Fenwick exchanged pleasantries, Lady Petunia motioned for Bethany to join her in a short walk along the edge of the Serpentine.
    Once down from the carriages, they walked arm in arm together. As soon as they were past the tilbury, Petunia lowered her head close to Bethany’s ear. “I am mortified, Bethany! I saw Mr. Fenwick acknowledging that…that Paphian in your company. Gracious! He should’ve given her the cut direct.”
    “He was only being polite, Petunia. Truly, there was no harm done.”
    The Viscountess shook her head, sending her multitude of curls into a tizzy. “My word, ’tis monstrously improper. If my brother ever found out…oh, he would blame me so. ’Twould be a regular blow-up!”
    “But why?” Bethany stumbled on the uneven path, then righted her gait. “What possible difference would it make to Lord Ingraham?”
    She and Petunia approached the bank of the Serpentine, then watched the lake’s abundant waterfowl majestically swim close by. As if drawn by a magnet, the ducks and swans sailed closer — within feeding distance.
    When no bits of bread or other edibles were cast upon the waters, the swans honked their protest. The ducks also chimed in.
    “My word, such unharmonious noises coming from such graceful beauty, wouldn’t you say?” Petunia sighed. “What a day this has been. My nerves are shattered. Just shattered. I cannot believe I just received the cut direct from that scheming hussy.”
    Bethany tried to decipher her hostess’ words. “From Mr. Fenwick’s acquaintance?”
    “No, no. From the Marquess of Overton’s abominable daughter, Lady Harriet.” Petunia folded her arms across her bosom, then drummed her fingers. “I daresay you didn’t notice her. Her carriage is quite ostentatious, you must know. But in any event, back to your question. ’Tis amazing that you don’t know. But of course how could you? That woman — Mrs. Lippincott, I believe is the name she goes by — well, she was Davy’s mistress once upon a time.”
    “Oh.” Bethany blinked rapidly, blocking out the scene of the swans and the ducks’ squawking their outrage. She hadn’t acquired enough town bronze to be comfortable with that sort of intimate information. Especially personal information concerning David Greyle. “Oh, I see.”
    “You see what, Miss Branford?” a male voice from behind asked.
    Bethany spun around, then blinked even harder. Standing only an