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His only response was an enigmatic smile.
After parting company with Lord St. Vincent, Lillian climbed the steps to the spacious back terrace,
where laughter and excited feminine chatter was resounding off the flagstones. Ten young women were
standing around one of the tables, involved in some kind of game or experiment. They bent over a row of
glasses that had been filled with various liquids, while one of them, who was blindfolded, cautiously
dipped her fingers into one of them. Whatever the result was, it caused them all to squeal and giggle. A
group of dowagers sat nearby, watching the proceedings with amused interest.
Lillian caught sight of her sister in the crowd, and wandered to her. What is this? she asked.
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Daisy turned to view her with surprise. Lillian, she murmured, slipping an arm around her waist, why
are you back early, dear? Did you have some difficulty at the jumping course?
Lillian drew her aside while the game continued. One could say that, she said tartly, and told her about
the events of the morning.
Daisy s dark eyes turned round with dismay. Good God, she whispered. I can t imagine Lord
Westcliff losing his head that way & and as for you& what were you thinking, to let Lord St. Vincent do
such a thing?
I was in pain, Lillian whispered back defensively. I couldn t think. I couldn t evenmove. If you d ever
had a muscle cramp, you would know how much it hurts.
I would elect to lose my leg entirely before letting someone like Lord St. Vincent near it, Daisy said
beneath her breath. After pausing to consider the situation, she couldn t seem to keep from asking,
What was it like?
Lillian smothered a laugh. How should I know? By the time my leg stopped hurting, his hand was
gone.
Drat. Daisy frowned slightly. Do you suppose he ll tell anyone?
Somehow I don t think he will. He seems to be a gentleman, in spite of his claims otherwise. A scowl
settled on Lillian s forehead as she added, Far more of a gentleman than Lord Westcliff was today.
Hmm. How did he know that you couldn t ride sidesaddle?
Lillian regarded her without rancor. Don t play the idiot, Daisy it s perfectly obvious that Annabelle
told her husband, who then told Westcliff.
You won t hold this against Annabelle, I hope. She never intended for the issue to blow up the way it
did.
She should have kept her mouth shut, Lillian said grumpily.
She was afraid that you would take a tumble if you jumped sidesaddle. We all were.
Well, I didn t!
You might have, though.
Lillian hesitated, her scowl fading as honesty compelled her to admit, There s no doubt that I would
have, eventually.
Then you won t be cross with Annabelle?
Of course not, Lillian said. It wouldn t be fair to blame her for Westcliff s beastly behavior.
Looking relieved, Daisy tugged her back to the crowded table. Come, dear, you must try this game.
It s silly but quite fun. The girls, all of them unmarried, and ranging in age from their early teens to
mid-twenties, moved to make room for the pair of them. While Daisy explained the rules, Evie was
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blindfolded, and the other girls proceeded to change the positions of the four glasses. As you can see,
Daisy said, one glass is filled with soap water, one with clear, and one with blue laundry water. The
other, of course, is empty. The glasses will predict what kind of man you will marry.
They watched as Evie felt carefully for one of the glasses. Dipping her finger into the soap water, Evie
waited for her blindfold to be drawn off, and viewed the results with chagrin, while the other girls erupted
with giggles.
Choosing the soap water means she will marry a poor man, Daisy explained.
Wiping off her fingers, Evie exclaimed good-naturedly, I s-suppose the fact that I m going to be
m-married at all is a good thing.
The next girl in line waited with an expectant smile as she was blindfolded, and the glasses were
repositioned. She felt for the vessels, nearly overturning one, and dipped her fingers into the blue water.
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