mother for company.
I was so grateful when Clarence finally arrived, I practically swooned with relief. After an awkward reception, he and I left for our afternoon drive. He drove a luxurious carriage with navy bench seats. It was pulled by two chestnut horses, and today he drove it with the top folded down.
My hat and dress were conspiring against me as we traveled past the lavish homes of the neighborhood. I was forced to constantly adjust my position lest I crush the many plaits and ruffles that adorned my gown.
To pile on the agony, once we reached Shantytownâa collection of shacks around the Exhibition that fed off the scraps of rich touristsâthe ribbon on my bonnet decided today was the day it wanted freedom. It dangled before my face in a taunting display of rebellion.
I tried to focus my attention on the summer sun and afternoon breeze, the rattle of the wheels and the beat of the horsesâ hooves as we crossed over the Schuylkill, but my pent-up tensions and fear would not be rejected so easily.
âSo, Miss Fitt,â Clarence said once we turned onto a tree-lined road beside the river, âyou are no doubt wondering why I invited you out.â
I swatted the ribbon from my eyes. âAnd here I assumed it was my unsurpassable good looks.â
He chuckled. âThat was, of course, part of my motivation.â
âOnly part?â I slid my gaze left and watched him from the corner of my eye. âWell then, the rest of your reason must be that bribe you mentioned the other evening.â
âSomething like that.â He smiled sheepishly. âQuite simply, I must beg for your discretion regarding Friday nightâs... um...â He seemed to be searching for the right word.
âRendezvous?â I suggested.
He snorted. âI suppose you could call it that.â
âWell, you neednât worry. I havenât told anyone.â I fingered the mother-of-pearl buttons on my gloves. âThough I am curious why youâre so keen to hide a trip for fresh air.â
âYes, well, that is my private affair.â He spoke lightly, but his eyes were hard.
âAnd,â I continued, ignoring him, âwhy did you have that newspaper?â
âMiss Fitt, you know curiosity gets men killed.â
I grinned. âThen I daresay itâs good Iâm a woman.â
He groanedâan amused sound. âNo wonder Allie finds you confusing. Youâve a retort for everything.â
âNo, only for Wilcoxes.â
He rolled his head back and laughed. âAll right, all right. If you promise to keep my secrets and enjoy this driveââhe opened his hands to gesture at the sun-dappled carriageway before usâ âthen I will explain.â
I blinked. Really? All it took to get an answer was a witty turn of phrase? If only it were that simple with men like Daniel Sheridan.
âWell, go on,â I urged.
âI sent my footman to fetch a newspaper because...â He clenched his teeth and took in a shaky breath. âBecause Frederick Weathers was my friend.â
My eyes widened. Though his response made no sense in the context of the conversation Iâd overheard, it was startling news all the same.
âThe man found headless?â I gripped at his sleeve. âHe was your friend?â
Clarence nodded once, his face tightening with pain.
âOh, Mr. Wilcox, I am sorry.â
He gently removed my clenched fingers from his sleeve. âYes, Miss Fitt. Now, if youâll please keep this information to yourself.â
âBut donât most people know? Itâs in the newspapers.â
âYes, but his family wants it kept quiet. Allie doesnât read the papers, so she doesnât know yet.â He gazed into the distance, as if considering what to say next. âAnd itâs more complicated than just one man... one man dying. There are elections coming up, and Frederickâs father has withdrawn from