Free Althea by Madeleine E. Robins Page A

air of the
morning. Mr. Pendarly kept up a flow of light, entertaining conversation,
indicating places of interest that could be seen as they rode. There was no
denying he was attractive and, in a subdued manner, quite charming. When the
trees had hidden all but the Park itself from view Pendarly began to speak of
the sightseeing excursion he had thought of, suggesting points of interest they
might visit as a beginning.
    “Of course, if you are determined to be a bluestocking, we
will visit the Botanical Gardens, but I must inform you that unless you wish to
be thought dreadfully learned or peculiar, they are not the place for a lady of
fashion.”
    “Thank you for the kind warning. I will endeavor to cool my
botanical yearnings, then, for my sister would never forgive me if I appeared a
bluestocking after her careful tutoring. She labored hard and long to make me a
paragon of presentability.”
    There was a quick look of something like disapproval at this
flippancy, but the glance was so brief that Althea could almost believe her
companion had not aimed it at her at all. She felt sure she could have said the
same sort of thing to anyone else and received no worse than a question as to
what she could possibly mean. Almost anyone she had met the night before — the
tall man, Sir Tracy Calendar, for example — would have understood the spirit of
her remark. Surely she had only imagined the look from Mr. Pendarly.
    As if the thought of him had conjured him up, Sir Tracy
Calendar appeared from a side path, riding a beautiful showy chestnut. She
could feel, or rather sense, Mr. Pendarly bridle nervously at her side, for
what reason she knew not. She was pleased to see Sir Tracy, yet she would have
wished for this hour with Pendarly alone if Calendar had some unfortunate
effect upon the gentleman. Still, when Sir Tracy reined in beside her, she
smiled cordially.
    “Your servant, Miss Ervine. You are early out this morning,
I see, and by the look of it, in excellent spirits after your triumph last
night. Allow me to compliment you: you have captured half the hearts of Bond
Street already.” He turned to Pendarly with a nod. “You must think yourself
fortunate to have stolen the march on this lady’s army of suitors.”
    “I misdoubt, sir, whether I have captured so much as one
heart, let alone those of an army. Some interest, perhaps, but hearts? Surely
even in London that is a weightier business.”
    “Nonsense, Miss Ervine. In London hearts are given as
lightly as air, and taken as freely at a moment’s notice. Mr. Pendarly here may
be at your feet today, and on the morrow be dangling after the first fair lady
with china blue eyes and a fair fortune that he encounters. A sad truth, I’m
afraid, to hand you on such a fine morning.” Althea gaped at Calendar; this was
strange talk for any morning, and she found the notion that any man would amuse
himself with her until a wealthier woman appeared particularly repugnant.
    Pendarly, during this speech, had grown pale, looking with
angry eyes at Calendar. Althea was relieved to know that at least one of her
escorts was sensible enough to find such plain speaking offensive. It might,
she owned, be that she found the remark particularly obnoxious because she was
its target, but still she could not repress the notion that it might well have
been left unsaid. She would have glared in concert with Mr. Pendarly at
Calendar’s unrepentant head had not the gleam in that gentleman’s eye warned
her that he expected a reaction of that sort. If I strangle with it, I shall
not give him such satisfaction , she thought indignantly. Sir Tracy — the
man seemed a mind reader! — nodded as if he had understood this, too, and after
a very long moment of awkward quiet, he politely took his leave and rode off.
    “I thought him pleasant enough last night, but what a
dreadful tongue that man has to him!” Althea remarked at the retreating back of
Calendar. “It goes beyond