Free Escapade by Joan Smith Page A

with Miss Sheridan as it did with Lady Honor. The gentlemen had no thoughts of mentioning the episode to Clare or anyone else, but Belle was as yet undecided on her strategy. True enough, Clare would dislike to be quizzed about the girl publicly, but in private she thought she might show him that she was a woman of the world by a little good-natured bantering. No more than Sherry did she see the girl as a real danger. Her interpretation of the matter was that this was the reason for his sudden bolt to Dorset in the middle of the Season, and the party he had set up was camouflage, pure and simple. It would account for his tardy rising that morning too, if he had gone out with the girl last night after the concert. She worried a little that he would take her to London and set her up in a private dwelling, thus very likely delaying any plans he might be formulating for getting married. For herself, she would not tolerate a mistress in London if she was the one he meant to have. He could keep her here in the country and welcome, but not in London, where everyone would know of her. Not the first year anyway, she compromised.
    In Martin's Drapery Shop, the Duke banged his fist on the counter and exclaimed, “Dammit to hell anyway! A man can't even walk down a village street without being spied on. I'm sorry, Prissy. No, I am not angry with you. Please don't cry. You are still coming home with me, but you must stay out of sight, till these people that are visiting me leave. It won't be for long. Dry your tears now, you don't want to redden your eyes."

Chapter Six

    Clare had invited a few country friends in to dinner, and with the additional young people, a small dancing party was got up in the music room to while away their second evening.
    The next morning at 11:00 sharp, Miss Sheridan and Miss Prentiss entered the breakfast room, wearing striking riding habits of blue and green respectively, to set off their black and red hair. Clare had arisen early and been locked in his office for an hour with his bailiff before they came down. When the Duchess told them this bitter news, they settled for another ride with Mr. Peters and Lord Harley, but returned early to change for the picnic at the Pavilion, where lunch was to be served under the onion dome. The food and wine were excellent, and even a picnic at Clare was not conducted without the proper number of servants attending, so no one had to serve himself. Lady Honor appeared perfectly content to sit sipping wine and staring at the countryside with vacant eyes, but to the other members of the party there seemed to be something lacking once the food had been served. Perhaps the fact that Clare sat chatting with the Marchioness and his Mama accounted for the flatness of the outing.
    When everyone but Lady Honor had emptied a third glass, and sat making desultory conversation for five minutes, Belle Prentiss arose and walked over to Clare. He went with her to join the younger group.
    “What would you like to do this afternoon?” he asked.
    Honor yawned, and it was pretty clear that she desired nothing but to go on comparing Clare's parks to her papa's, mentally, of course. The others seemed to want to do something, but nothing occurred to them.
    “Sara, what do you think?” Clare asked.
    “Is it too late to ride into the village?"
    “We have been riding all morning and have just changed out of our habits,” Sherry said, with a whine creeping into her voice.
    “And we went to the village yesterday,” Belle added, with a knowing smile at Clare, which he ignored entirely.
    “Miss Fairmont, you will not want another bout in the library so soon. You decide what we are to do.” He was fed up with this bunch of turnipheads and not about to put himself out an inch for them.
    “We might have a frog-jumping contest,” she said in Miss Prattle's tart tone. If he had no reasonable plans for them, she would show him what she thought of his hospitality.
    “I beg your pardon?” He