Free Lady Incognita by Nina Coombs Pykare

lords in their pages.”
    “Yes,” agreed Louisa. “But they are not real.”
    “What?” His lordship’s dark eyes danced with mischief. “Would you fly in the face of Providence? Surely Betsy’s eyes are no sharper than your own. Can you not recognize in me a hero incarnate?”
    Louisa, who found any mention of romances uncomfortable, was saved from blurting out some betraying sentiment by the sudden entrance of Aunt Julia.
      “Ah,” said his lordship. “The scientist has arrived. Constance my dear,” he continued as Aunt Julia advanced into the room. “This is Louisa’s Aunt Julia, sister to the late Colonel. Miss Pickering, my sister, Lady Constance Palmerton.”
    Aunt Julia nodded somewhat diffidently, as though not having time to take from science for such niceties. “I have just heard the most ridiculous lecture,” she observed to the room in general. “The man knew nothing of phrenology.”
    Lady Constance, whose knowledge of cats, though quite sufficient before this day, had been rather thoroughly exhausted, looked up with a sigh of relief. “Phrenology?” asked she. “What is that?”
    Aunt Julia, with the smile of a hunter keen upon the scent, pushed a chair closer and prepared to initiate a new believer into the mysteries of science.
    Louisa, turning back to his lordship, saw his eyes dancing with merriment. “Do not despair,” he said softly. “I warned my dear sister. And so if she has her character dissected not to her liking the fault is entirely her own.”
    He glanced toward the window. “Will you take a turn or two with me in the garden?”
      Louisa nodded. In her present state she thought she would surely scream should she have to watch Aunt Julia probe under Lady Constance’s artfully arranged curls. Anything was preferable to hearing Aunt Julia insult the Viscount’s friendly sister.
    Their departure was not even noticed by the ladies, now deep in a discussion of the vagaries of the male sex and what an obvious help it would be to the female half of the species if they could ascertain these vagaries before it was “too late.”
    Louisa, pausing in the hall to gather up her shawl, thought with a slight touch of hysteria, that any moment now Aunt Caroline would offer her cats as subjects of study and Aunt Julia would agree!
    As they descended the steps into the little courtyard, Louisa drew in a deep breath. At least out here she would be spared the embarrassment of her peculiar relatives.
    Quietly Atherton took her shawl from her arm and placed it around her shoulders. “Thank you,” said Louisa with a shy smile as he offered her his arm. For a few moments they ambled among the  flowers  in comfortable silence. Louisa felt a sort of calm peacefulness descend on her as they strolled. How very pleasant it would be, she found herself thinking, to stroll this way often, with Atherton at her side.
      This thought, however, soon shattered her calm. It was unwise to think such thoughts, unwise ever to regard his lordship through the sensibilities of a heroine. Such actions could only lead to heartache for the portionless daughter of a dead baron.
    “I hope,” said Atherton after a little while, “that you will not refuse my sister’s kindness. She is, perhaps, a little before herself. She does dearly desire to design someone’s entrance into the ton. And at times she can be a mite feather-headed, but she is a good soul nevertheless. And she does feel this obligation to your Mama.”
    At this last, Louisa scrutinized his lordship’s face sharply.  But if Lady Constance’s friendship with Mama was a made-up one, his lordship’s demeanor gave no sign of it. It seemed, thought Louisa, as though she had no choice but to give herself into Lady Palmerton’s capable hands.
    “Do you think it wise,” asked his lordship suddenly, “to endeavor to persuade Betsy that romance does not exist?”
    “I ... I am only trying to protect her,” faltered Louisa. “Young, innocent