Page 32 of One Perfect Dance
“Excellent!” Barker gave a sigh of relief. “Ash has to go because he is buying. I know where to go, and Rex, you’re coming along to advise on the horses. They cannot object to that. And afterward, I shall take you to my club for lunch.”
The ladies, both wearing aprons and a beam of satisfaction, accepted the excuse with such alacrity that Ash suspected their plan all along had been to drive the men out for the morning. He kept the observation to himself, however.
The three of them crowded into Barker’s curricle, with no room left for the groom. “Make yourself scarce, Tom,” Barker told the man. “If my lady catches you, she’ll have you moving furniture.” The groom touched his cap and disappeared down a lane towards the mews.
Ash had heard of Tattersalls, but never been there. He looked around in fascination as they entered a courtyard surrounded on three sides by pillared arcades and centered on a facsimile of a Greek or Roman temple, a circle of pillars topped by a dome.
Barker explained that the buildings around the courtyard comprised stables, a carriage house, a counting house, and subscription rooms. “The auctions are on Mondays and Thursdays, so we’re in luck. Let’s take a look and see if there’s anything you’d like to bid on.”
They checked the carriages first, and it didn’t take Ash long to decide that any of three low phaetons would suit him.
Barker and Rex wandered off to look at a landau. Rex wanted one for taking his family on outings. Ash continued to examine the phaetons, scrutinizing them with the eye he had developed through countless trips into potentially hostile territory, when a breakdown might have had fatal consequences.
“You should get a high-perch phaeton, Ashby,” said a voice from his past. Sure enough, Matthew Deffew was leaning against a nearby wall. “Excellent for taking a drive with the ladies.” Like his brother, he had aged. Indeed, he must be approaching fifty. He still looked fit, but was burlier than before, and what hair Ash could see under the hat was iron gray peppered with white.
His brother was with him. “Or a curricle. They’re very fashionable, too,” Dilly insisted. “A renowned author like yourself doesn’t want one of those boring low-built things.”
Mouth bared his teeth in what was more of a leer than a smile. “A high-perch,” he insisted. “Makes the ladies shriek and cling to your arm,” he explained.
Ash gave a slight bow. “Gentlemen.”
“I know a carriage maker who could whip you up a nice high-perch phaeton in no time,” Dilly offered. “Any color you like. Red wheels are very dashing.”
Ash acknowledged the remark with an inclination of the head. “I intend to buy one of these but thank you for the advice.”
“Suit yourself,” Mouth said. “It seems a very tame choice for a person who claims to have had the adventures you have written about.”
“A vehicle like these would be all right for messages and the like, I suppose,” Dilly allowed. “But not for driving in the Park. One has to be up to the nines, there. You should come and see mine, Ashby. I drive in the Park most afternoons. It is the place to be seen.”
“Hyde Park,” Mouth explained to Ash, then reminded his brother. “Ashby has not been in England long enough to know the fashionable places.”
Ash was listening with only half an ear. Some of the spokes on the second of the three phaetons had a scattering of tiny holes surrounded by wood-colored dust. Furniture beetles. The holes showed that they’d gone, but Ash would want to replace the spokes to be certain there were no more larvae growing vigorously within, waiting for the opportunity to spread in a new home. That one went to the bottom of his list, then.
Dilly was twittering on about meeting Ash at Regina’s. Ash was not paying attention until he heard Dilly say: “…so I thought it only fair to tell you that we have an understanding.”
Ash straightened and studied Dilly with his brows raised. “Is that right?”
“Yes, that is right,” Dilly insisted. “So, if you have hopes in that direction, you may forget them.”
Mouth nodded. “Very fond of my brother, is Mrs. Paddimore.”
Ash contemplated telling the pair that he was buying a vehicle so he could take Regina driving.No. It would be more fun to say nothing and hope our path crosses theirs this afternoon while I am out with Regina.
Dilly had drifted off on another tangent. “I suppose you need a safe vehicle to drive Dellborough’s brother. I had thought, after sixteen years of nursing the Versey imbecile, you would have been happy to hand him over to the care of his family and look for a real job.”
Ash raised his brows still higher. Rex and Barker had come up behind Dilly as he spoke, and Barker was turning red with rage while Rex was gesturing for him to be quiet while trying not to laugh.
Mouth’s eyes had widened in alarm, and he said, “David, that’s enough.”
But Dilly talked over the top of him. “Is it true that the half-wit has married a black woman? I don’t suppose Dellborough will keep you on after that,” Dilly continued. “You should talk to Matthew. He might be able to find you a job as a clerk or something.”
Rex leaned forward so his head was just by Dilly’s shoulder. “He will not be needing another job,” he murmured.
Dilly started, and spun around, his eyes widening. “I do not know you, sir, and you are interrupting a private conversation. Oh. Lord Barker. I did not see you there.”
Barker looked Dilly up and down, then stepped past him, his attention on Ash. The cut direct and performed with precision.
“Are you ready to look at some horses, Ashby? Lord Arthur and I are done here.”
