Corry noted a juggler working a set of ripe apples. Not far from him was a rather strange-looking gentleman balancing himself on the ledge of the water fountain whilst his friends cheered him on. “Yes,” she said, “Very odd …”
“Odd—why?”
At the tone of surprise in Babs’ voice, Corry turned to see her cousin was looking not towards the juggler but in a different direction altogether. “Oh …” she said once she realized what had captured her cousin’s attention. “I should have known only the Wildfire himself would catch your eye.”
Babs blushed and rolled her eyes but said, “No…with him—the gentleman with him!”
Corry frowned and looked and said, “How, dearest, could I know who the gentleman with him is if you don’t?”
“No, of course you wouldn’t. He has been rusticating in the country. I have never been introduced to him, but he was often about, and I did notice him before it all happened. Yes, yes, his name is Sir Frederick. There was a tremendous scandal …”
“Really? What sort of scandal?”
“I don’t repeat gossip like that. The poor man suffered a great deal over it …”
“Too late—you have already told me there was a scandal. You must now follow through.”
“Not now … here comes Lord Byron!” Babs said with a happy smile as she watched the poet’s approach. He was of average height, and while some women thought him handsome, she did not. His gait was hindered by a considerable limp. He was well dressed, but not in the ‘dandy’ style. She smiled to herself, for he appeared to the world as though he were bored, but she had enjoyed his company enough to know it was not that … not at all. She gave him a welcoming wave.
“Oh my, Babs, your father would be furious. Talk about scandal—Byron has stirred up an entire volume of scandal. Why they say—”
“Hush,” cautioned Babs. “It isn’t his fault. He is totally misunderstood. He had a great affection for Lady Caro, who really is naught but a doxy, one minute fawning over him, the next burning his letters in public. Idiotic.”
“Yes, but the rumors about him and Lady Caroline Lamb are rife, and to be seen with him … my goodness. Babs, they even say that he is in love with his half-sister, Augusta … and …”
“Rumors will always follow greatness.” Babs shook her head and then murmured, “Here he is … Do not give him that sour face.”
She beamed and offered her hand. “My dear Byron …” she said even as she watched Nick Barrington ride away and out of sight.
***
Sir Edward Danton had watched the Lady Babs during those first two weeks she enjoyed introducing her cousin to society. She and Miss Bretton had certainly stirred up the beau monde with their antics, but both seemed to be held in affection.
He looked into the matter of the so-called inheritance that Miss Bretton was rumored to have and discovered it to be a hum. He was very good at finding out what he needed to know. A magistrate’s clerk did not make enough to resist a few gold coins, and he discovered that she had indeed inherited the whole of her parents’ estate, but that it was modest.
He wasn’t sure how he could use the information he had garnered, but he kept it in his mental files nonetheless.
Another matter had the beau monde wildly curious. Passion’s Seed sales had continued to grow, and both the book and the mysterious author were the subject at many of the haute ton’s gatherings. People wondered why the author never made a public appearance or claimed ownership of the novel.
Whispers that it was a ‘cit’, or a merchant, abounded. For fun, Sir Edward said that he rather thought it was one of their own, and this took flight.
All this while, Sir Edward discovered that he was losing ground with the woman of his desires. The more he pressed his attentions on Lady Babs, the more she retreated.
He became thoroughly determined to press his courtship to a successful conclusion, for he had quite made up his mind she would be his. One way or another, she would be his. If she did not accept … he could abduct her, compromise her, and marry her, and if he had to he would resort even to that …
It was at Lady Abigail’s picnic that he managed to wheedle her into a little walk and began telling her how he had read Passion’s Seed.
“Oh, and did you enjoy it?” she asked.
“I found it interesting,” he said casually. “And you … did you enjoy it?”
“I did, yes,” she said adding nothing further.
He looked at her. “Have you any ideas who the author might be?”
“I? Why not at all.” She bit her bottom lip.
Sir Edward had noted some time ago that when Babs spoke a fib, she would chew her bottom lip, and so he looked at her with interest. “No?”