Don't Tempt Me by Loretta Chase Page B

Jarvis?”
    The maid ran her gaze over the carriage dress Dorothea had donated. It was pale yellow, trimmed in green.
    â€œVery becoming, miss.”
    â€œIt’s last year’s style,” Zoe said. “Everyone will know. No fashionable woman wears green this year.”
    And Marchmont was a leader of fashion. Not that he was likely to see what she was wearing.
    Not that she wanted him about.
    Still, she’d thought he’d be a little more involved in helping her into Society.
    Everyone said they must wait until she was presented at court. This, they said, would settle everything.
    He’d stopped by briefly on Thursday to tell Mama that he would arrange for the court presentation, butso far the invitation had not arrived. Meanwhile, her sisters were determined to civilize her, a process Zoe found extremely trying.
    She had not been allowed out of Lexham House since the night she’d arrived. She’d practiced her English, learned dance steps, read books, and studied household management. She’d memorized fashion plates, as well as the names and activities of all the aristocrats to be found in the scandal sheets. Except for the dancing—which she loved—it had grown very boring—and if she had to spend another ten minutes with her sisters, somebody would die.
    They would be here within the next hour, all four of them.
    â€œI could sew on fresh trim, miss, and if I was to—”
    â€œNever mind,” Zoe said, waving her hand. “It will do. Now you must go out and find a hackney.”
    Jarvis’s eyes widened in horror. “A hackney , miss?”
    â€œYes, we are going out.”
    â€œWe can’t, miss. Lady Lexham said His Grace would call for you and you might go out with him.”
    â€œHe hasn’t called,” said Zoe. “He hasn’t been here since Thursday, and then he spoke only to my mother.” She’d been with her sisters, learning the correct way to serve tea.
    â€œYou can’t go out alone, miss,” Jarvis said.
    â€œI’m not going alone. You’re coming with me.”
    â€œYou’d do much better to wait for His Grace,” Jarvis said. “If he’s with you, no one will dare to stare or behave disrespectfully toward you, her ladyship said. She said if anyone else was to go about with you, they would have to call out the guards again and read the Riot Act and if you was killed by the mob,even by accident because of too much enthusiasm, what would she and his lordship do? she said.”
    â€œThe mob is gone,” Zoe said. “Even the newspaper men have left the square. Last night the Princess Elizabeth married the Prince of Hesse-Homburg at the Queen’s House. She is the news. I am not the news.”
    â€œBut, miss, her ladyship said—”
    â€œIf we travel in a hackney, no one will know it’s me,” Zoe said. “No one in my family travels in a hired vehicle.”
    â€œThat’s true, miss, which is why I never fetched one before. And if anyone ever did want one, it’s rightfully a task for one of the under footmen or—”
    â€œThere is a stand, I believe, not very far away,” said the implacable Zoe.
    â€œYes, miss, on Bond Street, but—”
    â€œThen go to Bond Street.”
    It was the voice of command. Jarvis went.
    A short time later
    The maid had been obliged to run up and down Bond Street, waving her umbrella, to procure the hackney, with dubious results. Judging by the creakiness, crumbling interior, and smell, the carriage had probably done service in the time of the first King George, if not the eighth Henry. Still, it moved, which was all Zoe required.
    Once they were safely enclosed in the ancient coach, embarked on their journey, Jarvis showed a more adventurous spirit and began naming the sights along the way.
    They traveled along Bond Street to Piccadilly, with the maid pointing out dressmakers’ shops and furriers,