A Comfortable Wife (Regencies 8)

"Oh, it's you." Turning, Henrietta fixed him with one of her more intimidatory stares "Perfect. You can take An­tonia for a stroll on the lawns."

Philip's answering glance held a definite hint of steel. "Precisely my intention, ma'am."

Henrietta fluffed her shawls and sank back against the cushions. "I'll wait here."

His lips compressed, Philip opened the door and held out his hand commandingly—before pulling himself up. His gaze flew to Antonia's face; the blank look in her eyes struck him like a blow. He drew in a quick breath. "That is, if you would like to take the air, my dear?" Where on earth had his years of experience gone? He had never acted so insensitively in his life.

Bundling an uncharacteristic spurt of temper, and a less well-defined hurt, aside, Antonia forced herself to nod. Out­wardly serene, she placed her fingers in his. She did not meet his gaze as he assisted her out of the carriage, even though she could feel it on her face.

Settling her hand on his sleeve, Philip drew in a deep breath. And set himself to regain the ground he'd lost.

About them, the lawns were merely dotted with other couples, not crowded as they would be in a few weeks' time. "The company, I'm afraid, is somewhat thin at the moment." Glancing down at Antonia's face, he smiled. "As soon as the weather turns, the ton will flood back and then the entertainments will start with a vengeance."

Determined to hold her own, Antonia lifted her chin. "I've heard that there's no place on earth to rival London for all manner of diversions."

"Quite true." Philip succeeded in catching her eye. "Are you looking forward to being diverted?"

Shifting her gaze forward, Antonia raised her brows. "I suppose I am. Henrietta seems quite caught up with it all. She was certainly in her element at Lafarge's this morn­ing."

"Ah, yes. How did your session with Madame go?"

Antonia shrugged lightly. "I have to admit I'm very im­pressed by her designs. She's sending the first of the gowns tomorrow." Glancing down at her cambric skirts, she pulled a face. "Not a moment too soon, I suspect." Her gaze rose to take in the stylish toilettes of two ladies strolling by.

"After tomorrow, my dear, you'll take the shine out of all the London belles."

Despite her determination to remain aloof, Antonia's lips twitched. She shot Philip a glance—which he was waiting to catch.

He laid a hand on his heart. "Nothing more than the truth, I swear."

She had to laugh; to her surprise, it cleared the air, al­lowing her to respond more easily.

"The smaller, less formal parties will be starting soon, I imagine."

"Indeed," she replied evenly. "Henrietta already has a small stack of invitations."

"And then will come the crushes as the major hostesses return to the fray."

"Hmm." She hid a frown.

Philip glanced down at her. "I thought you were looking forward to experiencing the ton in all its glory?"

Fleetingly, Antonia met his gaze. “I certainly expect my time here to be an experience—an undertaking necessary to extend my understanding of society and its ways. As for enjoyment—" She shrugged. "I don't know enough to an­ticipate it."

Philip studied her face, open and honest as always; his expression softened. "Strange to tell, there's more to Lon­don than ton parties."

Antonia looked up, brows lifting.

"There's the theatre and opera, of course—but you know of them. Then there's Astley's and Vauxhall across the river, both worth a visit if it's simple pleasures you seek." Looking down, Philip met her gaze. "And I own to surprise that neither you nor Geoffrey has yet developed a yearning to see the museum."

Without waiting for her comment, he continued, blithely extolling the virtues of the capital, detailing sights and pos­sible excursions, gently twitting her on her ignorance until, with a laugh, she conceded, "Very well—I will own that I might, indeed, enjoy my stay in London. I hadn't realized there was so much we—" Abruptly, Antonia caught herself up. She drew in a steadying breath. "So much to see," she amended.

Trying but failing to trap her gaze, Philip inwardly frowned. "Having been interred in the wilds of Yorkshire as you have, that's hardly surprising. We must make an effort to take in some of the sights at least, before the season gets into full swing."

Antonia glanced up and met his gaze. “That would be very. . . pleasant."

Philip smiled. "We'll have to see what we can squeeze in."

They had reached the barouche; opening the door, he handed her in. "Until later," he said, his eyes on hers.