by Candice Hern
"Allow me to introduce my clodish friend." Will brought the man forward. "This is Dennison, but you may call him Denney. Denney, this is Annie."
Mr. Dennison bowed over her hand and said, "Your servant, ma'am."
"I am pleased to meet you, sir. Are you interested in balloons?"
"He is bored to death by them," Will said, "and was just leaving."
Mr. Dennison looked bewildered and even a bit angry as he glared at Will. "Yes, I was just leaving. I hope to meet you again soon, ma'am." He uttered a grunt as Will apparently poked him in the ribs. "Enjoy the ascension."
Ann was about to ask about the gentleman and the whispered conversation when the balloon was untethered and soared upward with a loud swoosh. Two men stood in the gondola beneath the balloon, waving to the crowd below. She was astonished at how fast it moved away, carried up and eastward on the wind. It was the most glorious sight she'd ever seen. It was the embodiment of pure freedom as it rose higher, its beauty bringing a lump to her throat. How she wished she could be so free! To fly in whatever direction she wanted, whenever she wanted. But there was no point in getting wistful about things she could not change.
All at once there was a great deal of commotion as carriages and horses began to move quickly away from the enclosure. "What's happening? Where is everyone going?"
"They're following the balloon," Will said.
Her jaw dropped in astonishment as she watched the balloon rise higher and gain speed as it traveled east. "You mean … it could be followed? It is possible to …?"
Will laughed. "Yes, Miss Annie, we can try to follow it, if you like. We should make good time in the new curricle."
"Oh, could we? I never dreamed … Oh, yes, please. Let's follow it."
The new vehicle with its perfectly matched team served them well in the flight to follow the balloon. It soared over Mayfair in a straight line east, while Will was forced to turn into one street after another to keep pace, weaving through carriages and carts and pedestrians with a skill that could not entirely be attributed to the nimble little carriage. Will was a marvelous whip. Most people were smart enough to get out of his way.
When the balloon veered south, Will raced down the Strand with renewed speed, causing Ann to shriek with delight. She had never been driven so fast in all her life, and it was thrilling. She held her hat down with one hand and gripped the leather strap on the side panel with the other, and encouraged Will to go faster.
From Fleet Street they turned into New Bridge Street, a broad avenue that allowed Will to maneuver through traffic more easily. But he reined in the team at the entrance to Black Friars Bridge.
"Look." He pointed to the diminishing profile of the balloon. "It must have caught a new current as it's moving faster south. We'll never catch it, I'm afraid. Sorry, Annie."
Ann watched the tiny green and gold teardrop grow smaller and smaller against the clear sky. "Oh, I don't mind. It was a grand adventure while it lasted. What an excellent driver you are. I was forever thinking you might overturn us, or someone else, but you never did. Well done, sir."
"Thank you, ma'am. It was my pleasure. And it gave me a good excuse to see how this little cart handles. I confess I am pleased." He turned to the rear seat. "What do you think, Parker?"
Good heavens, she had almost forgotten all about the tiger. The poor boy must have been holding on for dear life during that last run.
"It'll do nicely, my l—er, that is, sir. A real sweet goer."
"Good," Will said. "Think I'll keep it. And now, Miss Annie, what next? What other adventures had you planned?"
"Oh, I had nothing at all planned. I just wanted to explore London a bit."
"All right, then. We are near St. Paul's. We could start there. And there is St. James's Palace and Buckingham House and –"
She shook her head. "No, I don't want to go to palaces and such." She'd seen her fill of grand palaces. "I want to go where ordinary people go."
His eyes narrowed. "Ordinary people? Why?"
"Because ordinary people know best what is interesting or entertaining. And one can learn more about a place through its ordinary people than through its lofty aristocrats."
"Egad, you're not a revolutionary, are you?"
Ann laughed at the wary look on his face. "Of course not. I simply have a curious mind, especially in regard to ordinary, everyday things that most people take for granted but which I … Well, I have been rather sheltered, you know."
Will nodded and smiled. "As all respectable young ladies should be. So, you want to see what ordinary people do? Look around you, my girl. Nothing could be more ordinary than these wharves. Parker, mind the horses. Annie and I are going for a walk."
After handing her down, Will led her to the bridge. They walked only far enough to get a good view of the riverbank. It was a busy warren of wharves and warehouses, bustling with draymen and costermongers, smiths and stevedores, clerks and carters, and countless porters hauling heavy loads on their backs. This was the business of London: rugged and dirty work amidst dust and mud and various pungent odors that were best left unidentified.
"You did ask to see ordinary people doing ordinary things." Suddenly, Will's mischievous demeanor changed and concern flashed in his dark eyes. "But this is not likely what you had in mind. It is a bit … rough. Perhaps we should leave."
"Not on my account. To the despair of all my fastidious relatives, I have never developed delicate sensibilities. I find all the hustle and bustle fascinating. I was always trying to sneak out to the docks in Copenhagen. There must have been merchant seamen or shipping agents on my mother's side of the family and I inherited their unnatural fascination with commerce. I've never quite fit in, you see."
Will studied her quietly for a moment, a frown creasing his brow. No doubt he disapproved of her. Then all at once he said, "Have you ever tried oysters?"
"No."
"No? And yet it's the food of the ordinary people. Would you like to try them?"
"Yes, if you think I will like them."
"I cannot promise that. They are not to everyone's taste. But they are certainly ordinary here in London. There is an inn only a few steps away that serves delicious oysters. Shall we?"
Will led her past a small fishmarket where huge baskets were piled with oysters. Women carrying their own baskets eagerly filled them with oysters to take home. Others sat on barrels, opened the shells and swallowed the oysters whole. Ann thought they looked very odd, even a bit disgusting, but was curious as she watched so many people obviously enjoying them.
They entered a small inn where the lower floor was given over to serving oysters and other fresh fish. Customers sat at long communal tables, but the landlady took one look at Will and Ann, knew them to be Quality, and steered them to a private cubicle where they found a table covered in a neat white cloth, and wicker chairs. The landlady brought plates and knives, a fisherwoman brought in a basket of oysters, and a young girl brought bread and lemons.
Will showed her how to open the mollusks and eat them. It was a bit off-putting at first, but Ann discovered that, with a touch of lemon, she liked them very much.
And she had grown to like Will very much, too. Almost too much. No one had ever treated her like he did. All the men in her life had always been overly conscious of her rank and expectations, and had either treated her with kid gloves, or with strict regimens and rules. It was so unusual to have a man indulge her not because of who she was but just because he wanted to. The notion filled her with happiness.
But she must remember that she was bound to another.
"You enjoyed your first oysters?" he asked.
"I did. Thank you for another new adventure. Balloons and oysters. What a day!"
"You said this was to be your first London adventure. Where have your other adventures taken you?"
"I have spent much of my life on the Continent. I went to school in Switzerland, then lived for many years with my cousin in Denmark, and then with another cousin i
n Austria."
"Did you have to climb down trees to escape, or were your European cousins more accommodating?"
Ann laughed aloud to think of her cousin Sophie, the Queen of Denmark, as accommodating. "No, sir, my various cousins are all cut from the same pattern card of strict behavior. High sticklers, every one of them."
"But you managed to escape now and then?"
"Not often, but yes. I had a very resourceful maid, my dearest Lise, who was devoted to me. She helped me sneak out a few times. Some of my favorite adventures have been among the beer gardens of Vienna or the Dyrehavsbakken in Denmark."
"And because you are not ordinary – you cannot deny it, you know –you have been forced to sneak away to enjoy such ordinary places."
She looked at him intently. Had he guessed her identity? If not precisely her identity as Lady Ann of Gloucester, surely as someone in the Duke of Gloucester's household. Most people tended to forget about the duke's youngest daughter, as she came along as something of a surprise when her parents were in their forties. By the time she was five years old, her parents had separated and her father ruled her education and upbringing, primarily by sending her to royal cousins in Europe. As royals go, she was fairly insignificant. It was highly unlikely that Will even knew that Lady Ann existed. But he was not stupid, and no doubt knew she was someone of high rank.
"It is true that I do not come from an ordinary family, as I suspect you have guessed. Important people sometimes endure a rather stifling existence. I have always yearned to escape, but I know my duty and I will never shirk it. Duty before self, I have been taught."
He nodded, as though approving her sense of duty. "But that does not mean you cannot indulge in a bit of fun now and then. I sincerely hope that when your life changes tomorrow that you will not have to entirely give up the occasional escape."
"That would be wonderful, though I am not hopeful. The gentleman I am to … Well, I suppose I should explain as I feel that after chasing balloons and eating oysters together, we are already fast friends."
He flashed a smile that made him look almost boyish, and even more handsome. "Indeed we are."
He touched her hand briefly. It was a friendly gesture, yet it made her skin tingle in a most disconcerting manner. She took a breath to compose herself before continuing.
"As you may have guessed," she said, "I am to be married. We are to formalize the betrothal tomorrow. The marriage has been arranged since I was a child. The man I am to marry is, I believe, rather stiff-necked and proper."
He quirked an eyebrow. "You believe? You do not know him?"
"I haven't met him since I was six years old and he was twelve. But even as a boy I found him officious and egotistical and puffed up with his own consequence. I have heard nothing to lead me to believe he has changed."
He gave an exaggerated shudder. "He sounds like an arrogant prig. Let us hope he has indeed changed, and will be more accommodating than you expect. Such a fine little finch as you are does not deserve to be caged."
A fine little finch? She rather liked that. Other women might have preferred to be compared to a more glamorous bird, but a finch suited her just fine. And the fact that Will thought she ought not to be caged touched her deeply. How odd to have found a perfect stranger who could almost see into her heart. But she must not think of him in that way, as she could never see him again after today. She would become bound to another stranger, one who was unlikely to see beyond her royal blood and certainly not into her heart. "I shall leave such optimism to you, sir, as I do not share it."
"And we shall say no more on that subject. What would you like to do next?"
"I shall leave it up to you, sir."
"I think I will simply drive you around and let you see London. If anything strikes your fancy, we shall stop and explore."
#
Evesham figured a royal young lady was no different from other women, and so he drove her down Ludgate Hill to admire the shops. He had not been wrong. He'd never met a woman who didn't love to shop. Annie was in transports, exclaiming over the beautiful, glassed shopfronts that lined the street, as well as many of the adjacent streets, displaying wares of every kind. As expected, she asked to stop the carriage and walk so she could get a closer look.
Some window displays were enough to satisfy her, but there were many shops she felt compelled to enter, especially when pretty shop girls stood in the doorways enticing ladies with their wares, calling out, "Italian silks!" or "Limerick gloves!" or "Mechlin laces!" or "Chinese parasols!" The earl followed Annie as she visited mercers, shoemakers, milliners, fan-makers, umbrella makers, plumassiers, and even a staymaker, where she made him wait outside.
They were standing at the counter of a perfumer's shop, where Annie was being given tiny vials of fragrance to sniff and compare, when Sir Gavin Burke came up behind Evesham and clapped him on the shoulder.
Damn.
"What a surprise to find you in such a place, Ev. How d'ye do, old boy? And who's the pretty ladybird? Your newest light o' love? Introduce me at once."
Evesham flinched. "Watch your tongue, Burke. This is a lady."
The man curled his lip and leered at Annie. "No need to fly into the boughs, man. I can see why you brought her here instead of Oxford Street. Don’t want to run into one of your sisters with this one on your arm."
"I'm warning you, Burke, one more word and I'll –"
Burke moved closer to Annie, who stood wide-eyed and silent, and said, "You're a fetching little thing, aren't you? Tell you what? When you're through with him" – he shot his thumb in Evesham's direction – "I'll take you on, love, and –"
The earl's right fist collided with Burke's face before he could finish the insult. The man fell against the counter, sending bottles and vials crashing to the floor. Evesham lifted him up by the collar and set him on his feet. "You will apologize to the lady."
Shaken, Burke rubbed his jaw and glared at the earl. "Yes, yes. Of course. Sincere apologies, Miss."
The earl still held him by the collar, and marched him out the shop's door. "If I ever see you within ten paces of the lady, I will call you out. Is that understood?"
"Good God, Ev, there's no need to –"
"Am I understood?"
"Yes, yes."
"Then get out of my sight." Evesham spun on his heel and returned to the shop where the owner was cleaning up the mess. He apologized, handed the man his card, and told him to send a bill for the damage to the direction printed on it.
The owner glanced at the card, and his eyed widened. "Yes, my lord."
Damn. Now Annie would know he was a lord, but it couldn't be helped. At least she did not know which lord he was. But it pained him that she had to suffer such an insult. She might not the cold royal he'd expected – and he'd become more an more delighted by that knowledge – but she was still a lady of high rank who should never be accosted like that.
"I am sorry, Annie. That should not have happened. He should never have spoken to you in that way."
"No, but you put him in his place rather nicely, sir."
"I won't have anyone insult you, Annie."
"Thank you for defending my honor. It was rather … thrilling."
He gave a little grunt. "I am glad you thought so. Now, tell me, have you found a fragrance you particularly like?"
"Madame seemed most fond of this one." The shopkeeper held out a vial that was no doubt his most expensive perfume.
Evesham gave it a sniff. "Ah. It's lovely. Floral with a hint a spice. It suits you, Annie." He looked to the perfumer and said, "I'll take a vial, if you please."
When they left the shop, the earl tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and kept her close. He still felt hot anger at the back of his throat at Burke's behavior. He would not have her insulted again.
Annie looked up at him and said, "Should I be flattered to be mistaken for your … what did the man say? Your ladybird?"
"No indeed. It is offensive to you and I won't counten
ance it from anyone."
"My goodness. Such a staunch protector you are. Thank you, Will. But I confess that being mistaken for a ladybird is better than … Well, it is rather amusing, you must admit. And I thank you for the perfume." She patted her reticule where the small vial was safely wrapped. "I know you felt obliged to buy it placate the owner, but I do love it."
"It was my pleasure. As I said, it suits your personality."
"This rude gentleman," she said, "and the clumsy one at the balloon ascension both called you Ev or Evvie, or so it sounded. What sort of name is that, if I may ask?"
Now that she knew he was a lord, he hoped she did not make the connection between Ev and the Earl of Evesham. As the day progressed and he'd grown increasingly fond of her, even a little infatuated, he'd begun to feel a tad guilty at his deception. Even so, he was oddly reluctant to give it up. He was enjoying himself too much. He improvised a response. "One of my second names is Evelyn. Some chaps at university began calling me Ev and sometimes Evvie, and several still do. Simple as that."
"Evvie? Hmm. It doesn't at all suit you. I much prefer Will."
"So do I. Shall we continue?" He offered his arm and they walked on.
As they approached St. Paul's, Annie stood to admire it, admitting the edifice to be quite grand, but claimed no interest in going inside. She was much more interested in the booksellers and print shops along St. Paul's Churchyard and Paternoster Row. She stood for a long while at a printseller's window, studying caricatures of the king, the dukes of Cumberland and Clarence, Lord Nelson, Kemble, and other notables. No doubt she was looking to see if her own father had been lampooned in some way, but thankfully there were no images of the Duke of Gloucester.
She was a bit appalled at a satirical print showing Edward Jenner vaccinating a group of people, with cows erupting from various parts of their bodies, a rumored effect of his cowpox vaccine. And she looked angry at the print of Napoleon holding Albion in chains after the Peace of Amiens. But she laughed out loud at some of the unflattering depictions of the overweight Prince of Wales.
