"No, I agree with the Earl, Aunt. He can be altogether too preachy, prim and parsonic so far as I am concerned."
"I'm sure he only meant it for your benefit," Aunt Susan said with a mild frown.
"Yes, dear, you know that that was the case," the Earl said mildly, though with a hard look in his dark eyes.
Pamela shrugged and changed the subject by pointing out a fine house through the trees.
Pamela had managed to avoid the mention of Jonathan's name, but was not so sure of how she was to behave the next time she saw him.
In the end, she decided the best thing would be to pretend that nothing had happened. She feared she would not be as adept at playing such a demanding role as Jonathan obviously seemed to be, but she would have to give it her best lest anyone ever suspect she had fallen in love with him.
Still, with any luck, he would not come up to Town for some time, if at all. His parish duties, the fact that he had overstayed in Bath, all made her hope she would not have to face him any time soon.
She had a duty to her family to make the most of her Season, and she would make of it what she could without Jonathan interfering and judging her.
The Earl set them down at the Easton townhouse, and supervised the men as they unloaded all of the luggage. Then he bowed. "I shall be delighted to take you riding at the end of the week. I would make it sooner, but you will need to get settled in here first, and recover from the arduous journey. Shall we say eight o'clock Saturday?"
"That would be most pleasant, thank you. I shall of course have to see if Miss Easton or her sister Marjorie will join us."
"Very good." He bowed and kissed her hand.
Pamela and her aunt said farewell and went in to be received by the Eastons.
Abigail had been an especially close friend, a fun-loving girl with a good fortune, though not a great beauty. Her parents were the most pleasant of people, solid and affable, with decidedly Tory opinions, but good-hearted. They also had a large circle of acquaintance, and a well-trained staff. If they were surprised at her arriving early, they were too well-bred to show it.
The house was commodious enough that Pamela and her aunt were given a room each to themselves. Pamela's was a delicate cream with pink-striped wallpaper and Aunt Susan's burgundy, white and gold. Both beds were soon piled with gowns, which had to either be washed, pressed, mended, or altered.
As her aunt had discovered, often a gown could be rendered into a completely new outfit by the addition of a different-colored trim, or a different overgown, or even just a change of fan, reticule, and other accessories. Aunt Susan would of course keep an eagle eye on what the other ladies of fashion were wearing in London, and adjust their wardrobes accordingly.
A hot bath and some food were soon brought. Pamela had never been so glad to have a good scrub in her life. After a long soak, she washed her hair, dried herself, and sat in her dressing gown by the roaring fire. She dried her hair with a towel and combed it out, then ran her hands through her tresses to extend them out in front of the heat. It was whilst she was sitting there numbly that Abigail tapped at the door, and came in to catch up on all of the latest news.
"My dear, so good to see you. And traveling with an Earl, no less. I'm not surprised that you wanted to come to Town as quickly as possible. He will be too good a chance to miss."
Pamela tried to deny the accusation. "No, you mistake me, Abigail."
Her friend simply smiled knowingly, and proceeded to rattle off a list of all the things they would do whilst she was in Town.
"My sister Marjorie can of course accompany us in some cases. She is not yet out, but that is not to say she will not be a useful chaperone. In fact, she quite turns heads wherever she goes. You blond women have all the best beaux." She made a face, patting her own mousy brown hair, and pressed on. "But of course, you cannot be seen anywhere until your wardrobes are in order. That will take days." She smoothed the lap of her own lime green watered silk gown.
"The Earl would like to take us all riding on Saturday morning, if you can fit me up with a mount."
She nodded. "Yes, of course, pick any you like from the stables in the mews. That will be delightful. I shall look forward to improving our acquaintance. An Earl. Just fancy. You lucky girl." She patted her own hair once more. "But I too shall have my turn, I'm sure. Anyway, eat your soup before it gets cold. I shall go see if your aunt needs anything."
"You are too kind."
"Not a bit of it. Goodness me, we shall have such fun." She grinned like a naughty schoolgirl.
That night at supper, Pamela was introduced to Marjorie, a pert little thing of sixteen with auburn tresses and a vulpine look that sent a shiver of apprehension down Pamela's spine. She was a girl who would bear close watching if her parents wished to avoid scandal.