Love Lords and Lady-Birds. Barbara Cartland

helped her into the phaeton and undid the reins.

      The groom picked up the valise, stowed it away at the back as he swung himself into the high chair-like seat that he himself occupied and they were off.

      They drove a little way in silence and then the Earl was aware that his companion was not thinking of him but of his horses.

      “I am waiting,” he remarked.

      “For what?”

      “You know quite well what for and I have a feeling that you are deliberately prolonging your explanation so as to be carried as far away from your school as possible before you tell me.”

      She flashed him a smile which made her lips curve most beguilingly.

      “That is quite intelligent of you.”

      “I am not as obtuse as you appear to think,” the Earl answered sarcastically. “Who are you meeting when you reach London?”

      His companion gave a little laugh.

      “I wish I could tell you it was some ardent beau, but I can assure you that if there was one I would have made him fetch me from school and not have to rely on Jeb or the lucky chance of meeting a stranger like yourself.”

      “No beau? Then why this anxiety to get to London?”

      “Because I am too old to be at school for any longer, and my horrible beastly Guardian insists that I spend all my holidays in Harrogate.”

      “What is wrong with Harrogate?” the Earl asked.

      “Everything is wrong with Harrogate! It is dull, it is full of very old and ill people. When I was there for the Christmas holidays, I never met a single man except for the Vicar!”

      Her tone was so scathing that the Earl laughed despite himself.

      “You have obviously suffered acutely in such a place, but then is there nowhere else you could go?”

      “Not as far as my Guardian is concerned,” the girl answered. “The loathsome creature does not even answer my letters and every suggestion I make is rejected by his lawyer.”

      “He sounds somewhat unfeeling,” the Earl agreed. “When you do reach London, are you intending to beard him in person?”

      “Certainly not! I have no intention of going near him and I suspect that the reason why he does not want to see me or communicate with me is that he is spending my fortune on himself.”

      The Earl turned to look at her speculatively. As he took in the plain bonnet with its dark blue ribbons and the simple unimaginative gown, the girl said passionately,

      “You are thinking that I do not look like an heiress and is it surprising when my clothes are chosen for me by Cousin Adelaide, who is nearly eighty and paid for by my Guardian’s lawyer?”

      Her lips tightened before she went on,

      “I was eighteen last week and all my friends, my real friends, made their debuts last year. I was still in mourning for Papa so I suppose there was some excuse for not allowing me to be presented at Court then, but this year I was sure that I would be allowed to go to London.”

      “What are your Guardian’s reasons for refusing?”

      “I told you, I never hear from the brute! I wrote him pages and pages after Christmas and his lawyer simply replied that I was to stay at school until further notice.”

      She drew in her breath and then continued,

      “I waited until now for three months and now I have made an important decision. I will take the matter into my own hands.”

      “And when you reach London, what do you intend to do?” the Earl asked.

      “I am going to become a Lady-Bird!”

      “A – Lady-Bird?” he questioned.

      “That is what Claire’s brother, Rupert, calls them, but I believe another description is ‘a bit of muslin’ or a ‘Cyprian’.”

      The Earl was so astonished that for a moment he let the reins fall and his horses broke into a gallop. He steadied them again before he asked,

      “Have you the least idea of what you are saying?”

      “But, of course, I have,” his companion replied. “As I am not allowed to take my place in Society, I shall make my life in my own way.”

      “I cannot believe you know what you are implying.”

      “My best friend, Claire, explained it all last year before she left. All the smart beaux have mistresses and that means the lady they choose is expected to belong to them and to no one else. A Lady-Bird can pick and choose. If one man bores her, she can find another one who is more interesting.”

      “And you really believe that sort of – life would suit you?” the Earl asked, choosing his words with care.

      “It must be more amusing than sitting all day in that deadly school, having already learnt everything they can possibly teach me. Of course I shall be very careful in selecting the man I shall spend my time with.”

      “I should hope so!” the Earl remarked.

      “Think what fun it will be to do what I like and not permanently have people telling me that everything I want to do is wrong and unconventional.”

      “What do you imagine you will do?”

      “Go to Vauxhall, for one thing, and see the fireworks. Drive my own phaeton in Hyde Park, dance every night, have a house of my own and not have to worry as to whether I get married or not.”

      “You have no wish to be married?”

      “Of course not. It would be far worse than being a mistress to be tied up with one man forever! Claire says that Society is nothing more than a marriage market anyway.”

      “What does your friend Claire mean by that?”

      “She says that every debutante is competing either to marry a nit-wit because he has a title or some fat red-faced old man because he is rich. That at least is one thing I don’t have to worry about. I have a huge fortune all my own.”

      “Surely, if that is the truth, your Guardian will allow you to spend some of it?”

      “I told you, he does not answer my letters. His lawyer tells me to send him my bills and they are then paid. But what I want is cash in my hand.”

      “I should have thought that there might be better ways of obtaining it than taking up the profession you are speaking about.”

      “Profession?” the girl queried. “Is being a Lady-Bird a profession, like being a doctor or a lawyer? How interesting!”

      He thought of quite a number of retorts he might have made to a more sophisticated woman, but instead he went on driving with a frown between his eyes.

      He was wondering what he could say to this impulsive child who, he was certain, had not the least idea of the implications of what she was intending.

      He could well imagine the perils she might easily encounter, if she found herself in the company of the more raffish and dissolute young men who drove about the countryside from Race Meeting to Race Meeting merely to see what excitements they could uncover.

      “You have not told me your name,” he stated after a moment.

      “Petrina – ” she replied and stopped.

      “You must have another name.”

      “As I have told you so much about myself, I think it would be unwise to let you know anything more. After all you might have been a friend of my father’s.”

      “In which case I should undoubtedly try to dissuade you from this disgraceful idea.”

      “Nothing is going to stop me now,” Petrina