Talk of the Ton (Free Fellows League 5)

ably. “Lord Connery, Lord Anyname, it matters not to her!”

“No!” Tabitha gasped loudly.

“Yes!” Emily said. “I’ve even heard it rumored that she’s been in the company of Lord Dillingham.”

That was met with cold silence from Tabitha.

“I’ve a horrid ache in my head,” Emily moaned, as she tried to make sense of her thoughts.

“Oh come now, you needn’t pretend with me,” Tabitha chastised her and took the cup from her hand. “I know what you’re about.”

At that moment, another, better idea occurred to Emily, and she opened her eyes. “What I’m about?”

Tabitha rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair. “That bit of fainting—it was for his lordship’s benefit. Admit it.”

Emily gave her a wry smile. “You are ignorant at times, Tabitha,” she said with much superiority. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard the rumors about Montgomery, then, have you?”

“No. I suppose even he’s been seen with Widow Becket?”

“Not about Widow Becket!” Emily said crossly. “About for whom he intends to offer!”

Tabitha sat up now and scooted to the edge of her seat. “No! Who is it, then? Please don’t say that wretched Miss Smythe. She thinks herself so superior to us all!”

Emily chuckled low, took the cup of punch from Tabitha’s hand, drank her fill, set it aside, and clasped her hands in her lap.

“Emily! Don’t be coy!” Tabitha cried. “Who?”

“Really, can’t you see it with your very own eyes?” she asked, laughing at Tabitha’s eagerness. “Who did Lord Montgomery seek out and accompany on a long ride about Hyde Park just yesterday? And who is the first person he danced with upon arriving at this ball? And might you guess who he inquired as to her favorite flower, then declared it his favorite flower, too, and furthermore, how early spring, what with all the dancing, and the flowers, and the rides about the park, is his favorite time of year?”

Tabitha’s eyes widened.

“That’s right,” Emily said, nodding. “He’s a particular interest in me,” she said, and watched Tabitha’s eyes widen with surprise. And all right, then, a bit of shock, too.

Chapter Seven

A few days after the May Day Ball, Kate and her father returned from their weekly calls to the elderly in a bit of a deluge; it was as if the heavens had opened up and poured out a sea of water on London. They were met in the foyer by William, a servant in the vicar’s employ.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Mrs. Becket, but ye’ve callers,” he said, taking her reticule from her.

“Callers? In this storm?” Papa asked, and exchanged a curious look with Kate. Together, they walked to the door of the small parlor of the vicar’s guest house and peeked inside.

There were four men inside, all right, and they surged to their feet almost as one the moment they saw Kate. Papa strode into the room; behind him, Kate hastily removed her bonnet and tried to smoothe her hair before following him.

“Mrs. Becket,” they muttered in unison. “Mr. Crowley.”

“Rather a nasty day to be about making calls, sirs,” Papa remarked dryly.

“Ah, but what better opportunity to call on the fair Mrs. Becket,” Lord Connery said and quickly stepped forward from the pack of men and extended his hand to Papa. “She knows me well.”

“Does she indeed?” Papa drawled, squinting up at Connery. “And here I believed her to have only a passing acquaintance with you, my lord.”

Lord Connery was not the least bit intimidated by Papa’s challenge; he grinned and bobbed his head at Kate as a rotund gentleman elbowed his way in front of him.

“I daresay I’ve not had the pleasure of making Mrs. Becket’s formal acquaintance,” the rotund man said, bobbing at Papa before turning to Kate. “Madam, if you will allow me. Lord Moreland at your service,” he said, and bowed low.

“Mr. Anglesey at your service, too!” another gentleman all but shouted from the back.

“And lest I be overlooked, madam, Baron Hardwick.” You may recall that we met at church services approximately two months past.”