Free Lady Whistledown Strikes Back by Julia Quinn Page A

altogether to make a match with their daughter.
    But that time had not yet arrived, and so Peter had decided to make the best of his situation and enjoy what time he was allowed. To that end, he and Tillie had arranged to meet this morning in Hyde Park. They were both avid riders, and as the day was sporting the first patch of sun in a week, they could not resist an outing.
    The sentiment appeared to be shared by the rest of the ton. The park was a crush, with riders slowed to the most sedate of trots to avoid entanglements, and as Peter waited patiently for Tillie near the Serpentine, he idly watched the crowds, wondering if there were any other lovesick fools in their ranks.
    Maybe. But probably none quite as lovesick—or as foolish— as he.
    “Mr. Thompson! Mr. Thompson!”
    He smiled at the sound of Tillie’s voice. She was always careful not to address him by his given name in public, but when they were alone, and especially when he was stealing a kiss, he was always Peter.
    He had never before given a thought to his parents’ choice of names, but since Tillie had taken to whispering it in the heat of passion, he had come to adore the sound of it, and he’d decided that Peter was a splendid choice, indeed.
    He was surprised to see that Tillie was on foot, moving along the path with two servants, one male and one female, following.
    Peter immediately dismounted. “Lady Mathilda,” he said with a formal nod.
    There were a great many people nearby, and it was difficult to tell who was within earshot. For all he knew, that wretched Lady Whistledown herself could be lurking behind a tree.
    Tillie grimaced. “My mare is favoring a leg,” she explained. “I didn’t want to take her out. Do you mind if we walk? I brought my groom to tend to your horse.”
    Peter handed the reins over as Tillie assured him, “John is very good with horses. Roscoe will be more than safe with him. And besides,” she added with a whisper, once they’d moved a few yards away from the servants, “he and my maid are quite sweet on each other. I was hoping they might be easily distracted.”
    Peter turned to her with an amused smile. “Mathilda Howard, did you plan this?”
    She drew back as if affronted, but her lips were twitching. “I wouldn’t dream of lying about my mare’s injury.”
    He chuckled.
    “She really was favoring a leg,” Tillie said.
    “Right,” he said.
    “She was!” she protested. “Truly. I merely decided to take advantage of the situation. You wouldn’t have wanted me to cancel our outing, would you?” She glanced over her shoulder, back at her maid and groom, who were standing side by side near a small cluster of trees, chattering happily.
    “I don’t think they’ll notice if we disappear,” Tillie said, “provided we don’t go far.”
    Peter quirked a brow. “Disappeared is disappeared. If we’re out of their sight, does it really matter how far we venture?”
    “Of course it does,” Tillie returned. “It’s the principle of the matter. I don’t want to get them in trouble, after all, especially while they are providing such a thoughtful blind eye.”
    “Very well,” Peter said, deciding there was little point in following her logic.
    “Will that tree do?” He pointed to a large elm, halfway between Rotten Row and Serpentine Drive.
    “Right between the two main thoroughfares?” she said, scrunching her nose.
    “That’s a terrible idea.
    Let’s go over there, on the other side of the Serpentine.”
    And so they strolled, just a little bit out of sight of Tillie’s servants, but not, much to Peter’s simultaneous relief and dismay, out of sight of everyone else.
    They walked for several minutes in silence, and then Tillie said, in a rather casual tone, “I heard a rumor about you this morning.”
    “Not something you read in Whistledown, I hope.”
    “No,” she said thoughtfully, “it was mentioned this morning. By another one of my suitors.” And then, when he didn’t rise