Little Coquette Read Online Free Page B

felt no qualms whatever about his ability to do so. It would pass the time agreeably until he left for his summer house in Brighton.
    “And how will you do that, Miss Trevelyn?” he asked.
    “When I discover where she is from, I shall go to London and—and look into it,” she said vaguely, “Speak to her friends, you know.” Even as she spoke, she realized the impossibility of the thing. What excuse could she make for going to London when her father wasn’t even there? How could she get away without Mama? Once there, how could she go unescorted to such places as lightskirts inhabited? She was bound in on every side by the mere fact of being a lady.
    “An excellent plan,” Beaumont said. “If I cannot find her reticule and her address, we shall just have to ask Sir John where she lives.”
    Lydia puckered her lips to say “We?” but thought again before offending Beaumont. He would be an excellent ally in her scheme. Her mama doted on him. He might even make an excuse to go to London. Some remnant of feminine guile remained with her. She smiled demurely and said, “That would be awfully kind of you, Beaumont.”
    Beaumont felt only an instant’s gratification at her maidenly response. His chest had just begun to swell when he noticed the sly smile she was trying to conceal.
    “My pleasure,” he said, in a voice that hinted at anything but.
----
Chapter 3
    As the afternoon was far advanced when Lord Beaumont brought Miss Trevelyn home, the trip to London had to wait until the next morning. Anxious as Lady Trevelyn was to oblige Beaumont, she still felt constrained to utter a few objections to the scheme.
    “With neither your papa nor I at the London house, my dear, who will chaperon you?” she asked her daughter.
    “Why, Aunt Nessie to be sure,” Lydia replied. This was Sir John’s sister who kept house for him in London.
    “I shall see she comes to no grief when she leaves the house, ma’am,” Beaumont said with his most charming smile that invariably made the mamas wish they were twenty years younger and single.
    Lady Trevelyn simpered. “Well, it is odd she would not go to London when I wanted her to and insists on going now, but that is the way with girls.” She peered from her daughter to Beaumont, with curiosity gleaming from her eyes.
    Lydia’s blush was as good as an announcement that romance was afoot.
    “Headstrong,” Beaumont said, shaking his head.
    “You know I have been wanting to attend Mr. Coleridge’s lecture, Mama,” the deceitful girl said.
    Lady Trevelyn would have preferred a more romantic outing but poets were in vogue this season, so perhaps a lecture would not be such a dull scald as she imagined. “And Lord Beaumont has agreed to accompany you. So kind. I don’t believe Sir John will object to that, when Nessie is there to see no harm comes to you. When will you be returning?”
    “The day after tomorrow,” Beaumont replied.
    “If I stay another day, I shall write you a note, Mama,” Lydia added, in case her papa’s business took her a little longer.
    “That might be best, dear. You will want a day to recover from the lecture.” Beaumont’s lips twitched at this telling speech. Lydia noticed and scowled at him. It was all right for her to find her mother a little ridiculous, but it annoyed her that someone outside the family should do so.
    After he left, Lady Trevelyn had a deal more to say to her daughter, all of an admonishing nature. With all the restrictions as to propriety and remembering she was a lady, Lydia was still to let Beaumont know she was eager to become his bride.
    Lydia interrupted the flow of exhortations in midstream. “It is only Beaumont, Mama, not the Prince of Wales.”
    “I should hope not! As if I would let you associate with that— One hears such tales of his wickedness. We shall go up and tell your papa of the visit,” she said, and struggled out of her padded chair.
    Lydia felt a pronounced revulsion to entering her papa’s room,