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Lottie planted her feet and scowled at that.

“Have you lost your mind, Miss P? We both know that my character and temperament have always been better suited to running around after a nursery full of boisterous young children than it is to fetching the slippers for a crotchety old woman who believes the world revolves around her. I am a governess to my core and most definitely not a lady’s companion in any way, shape, or form. ”

“Actually, dear, you were a governess and now, thanks to your own rash stupidity and continued lack of decorum, you are once again unemployed. Beggars cannot be choosers, Charlotte. Especially when there are rumors that Lord Chadwell has vowed never to employ one of my protégées again after he was forced to dismiss one who stole his horse.”

“Stealing suggests I did not bring it back and I very much did.”

“Whether you did or didn’t steal the thing is moot when he claims that he paid through the nose for a supposedly superior governess, trained by me, who, rather than uphold the ethos of this school, instead continually neglected her duties while she indulged in mad gallops across Hyde Park.”

“I most definitely did not neglect my duties. Not once in the six months I worked for him, so that is unfair too.”

“I notice you do not deny the galloping, Charlotte.” Miss P gave her one of her legendary exasperated looks.

“And do not get me wrong, I think it is most ungallant of Lord Chadwell to besmirch your name or mine after what his disgusting son did, but Mayfair is a very small place and mud like that sticks! Enough that I am unlikely to find you another position as a governess here for some considerable time if the rumor spreads. Which it will! For exactly how many wild galloping governesses are there in this city who terrorize the parks on horseback?” She glared at Lottie until she bowed her head in shame.

“Your improper galloping habit aside, at five feet and eleven inches, you hardly blend in, dear, do you? Not that you have really ever tried to.”

As Miss P had her there, Lottie huffed out the last of her outrage with a hefty dollop of petulance. “It is hardly my fault that I am tall and I genuinely do try to curb my wild side.”

The older woman smiled. “You are certainly trying, Charlotte Travers, and always have been, in your uniquely exasperating but lovable way. However…” And back came the schoolmistress with a vengeance.

“You have created a problem for yourself and for me, and I am doing my best here to fix it. Lady Frinton needs a companion urgently for her upcoming trip to Scotland after her last one ran screaming for the hills. As she seems to chew through companions with worrying haste, this is unlikely to be a permanent position.”

A statement that made no sense whatsoever in view of Lottie’s current predicament and Miss P’s claim that she was trying to fix things. “Exactly how employable do you think I will be after being dismissed twice in quick succession by two of Mayfair’s supposed finest?”

A protest that was brushed aside with a flick of Miss P’s fan and a wink.

“Certainly more employable than you will be if you are unmasked as the Infamous Galloping Governess! Thankfully, as Lady Frinton’s horrendous reputation with the help is legendary, nobody decent would bat an eyelid to discover that she had dismissed you.

To be frank, most would be impressed that you managed to stick with her longer than a week, so there is nothing to worry about on that score.

It many ways, a stint in her employ would actually do you a favor as it shows you have gumption.

But on the other score…” Miss P’s lips pursed.

“It is imperative that we have a few weeks’ grace for those swirling rumors about the scandalous behavior of one of my protégées in Hyde Park to die down in order for you to become a halfway employable governess again.

Something that will not happen”—Miss P slanted Lottie one of her I-know-everything-young-lady-so-do-not-bother-denying-it schoolmistress glares—“if Lord Chadwell’s wild former governess persists in going for her ill-considered dawn gallops across Hyde Park. ”

“How did you—” There really was no point in attempting to question Miss P’s raised palm further so she simply huffed again and braced herself for the rest of the lecture.

“I really did hope that when that idiot stable lad friend of yours got himself promoted to a groom he would cease lending you horses from his master’s stable!

” Because of course Miss P knew about Lottie’s main supplier of borrowed horses just as she seemed to know about everything else.

She was either omnipotent or she had a vast network of spies covering the whole of Mayfair.

“But did you really have to court further scandal by galloping across Hyde Park again this morning when your dismissal is still so fresh? And in breeches too? Could you not have at least worn a skirt to cover them like you usually do?”

“I forgot.” Lottie winced at that lie, considered crossing her fingers behind her back, and then gave up.

She had known Miss Prentice for seven years so also knew that when the jig was up, it was up.

“I didn’t forget. Petticoats always get in the way and I’m sorry.

I just… needed to go fast this morning. ”

“Why?” Instantly Miss Prentice was concerned. “Is something else wrong, dear?”

“Nothing is wrong…” Miss P stroked Lottie’s arm and the dam holding up all her fraught emotions burst. “ Everything is wrong. The barley crop has failed and thanks to my own rash stupidity and continued lack of decorum, I currently have no wages to send home to help my family through the crisis.”

“Oh dear. Your poor papa.” Miss P squeezed Lottie’s arm in sympathy.

“But his misfortune is all the more reason to meet Lady Frinton with all haste. I cannot deny that she is likely to be a horror to work for, but if she hires you, dearest, I hear the wages that she pays are excellent. That said, to set your expectations I must warn you that that is currently a very big if indeed with all the rumors about you flying about. Lady Frinton is very well informed of all the latest gossip and she is as notoriously picky as she is infamously difficult. But it has to be worth a try.”

Thanks to the allure of excellent wages, Lottie let Miss P drag her across the room but didn’t hold out much hope that she would impress the old dragon who was already eyeing her with distaste.

Not when Miss P’s suspicions were right and gossip about her was indeed swirling about the ton, and apparently at a rate of knots too.

She’d been asked by three complete strangers here today if she knew which of Miss Prentice’s protégées had been dismissed by Lord Chadwell.

She had denied all knowledge of it, of course, but her mentor’s point had been proved.

Mayfair was a very small place that was fueled by gossip, and she was not only the guilty party, she stood out.

Her latest impropriety wasn’t going to be a stain that was easily removed now that a version of events had leaked their way out of Chadwell House.

If one of the scandal sheets printed it then it would go from idle gossip to the gospel truth in a heartbeat.

If it did, it would be better all around if Lottie was miles away when it happened.

Miss P did not deserve to suffer because Lottie had, once again, put off worrying about the consequences of her actions.

“Lady Frinton—allow me to introduce you to Miss Charlotte Travers.”

Rather than say “How do you do?” like any normal person, Lady Frinton responded by lifting her quizzing glasses and giving Lottie a thorough, head-to-toe once-over. Only when that was done did she scowl. “Did you grow up in a greenhouse, gal?”

“No, my lady.” She forced herself to smile past her immediately gritted teeth and tried not to take offense at the single most unimaginative insult that had plagued her since childhood. “A farm.”

“Where I presume you slept on a bed of manure alongside the carrots.” The magnified eyes perused her once again as if Lottie were some sort of exhibit in a museum of curiosities.

“Because you are unfashionably tall for a female.” Lottie decided there and then she disliked this woman.

But as Miss P had stated, beggars could not be choosers and she seriously needed money.

“My father is tall, ma’am. So was my mother.”

“Was?” The magnified eyes narrowed behind the lenses. “Did you kill her coming out?”

“No, ma’am.” As this interview was already going badly, Lottie decided to answer that direct and tactless question with an equally direct answer in the hope it stopped this intensely personal line of questioning stone dead. “Consumption killed her when I was but ten.”

“That is unfortunate for the both of you. A girl needs her mother at that age.” For the briefest of moments, there seemed to be a flicker of humanity in the old dragon’s eyes until they narrowed again.

“My acquaintance Mrs. Wilson here”—Lady Frinton jerked her head toward a startled-looking woman who instantly tried to blend into the wallpaper—“lives on the corner of Brick Street and Piccadilly.” A sentence that sent a shiver down Lottie’s spine because the family her longtime accomplice at the stables worked for also lived on Brick Street.

“Her bedchamber window overlooks the park and she is convinced that you must be the gal who was recently dismissed from the service of Lord Chadwell for horse theft because she swears blind that she has seen you take a horse out a time or two before.”

“It is true that when at home, in Kent, I like to ride.” Lottie did cross her fingers behind her back now. “But, alas, I have never had the pleasure of riding here in town.”

“Then there must be another ridiculously tall, golden-haired woman who gallops about at dawn as if the hounds of hell are nipping at her heels.” Lady Frinton pinned her with a glare that called Lottie a liar.

“Do you have a twin, gal? Or would you like a second chance to set the record straight? As I’ll warn you that I cannot abide liars. ”

As that damning question was the official death knell of this interview, along with any chance the rumors about her now not turning into an outright scandal for the school, there seemed little point in denying it.

“I didn’t steal it, more borrowed it so that both I and that neglected Thoroughbred could take some well-needed morning exercise.

” She turned immediately to Miss P. “I am sorry, Miss Prentice. I have brought shame on your school and thus, I shall immediately pack my bags and will never darken your door again.”

As Miss P did a wonderful job of acting completely surprised and horrified by that confession, Lady Frinton scoffed. “So now you claim it was more an act of charity than a theft?”

Lottie shrugged, guilty color infusing her cheeks, which she desperately tried to ignore. “A horse like that was born to run and not languish in a stable.”

That was met with stony silence that Lady Frinton stretched several seconds longer than was bearable.

“I approve of that honest answer, Miss Travers.” Something akin to mischief danced in those ancient eyes now.

“Most especially because I have a soft spot for all things equine and I have always thought Chadwell is far too fat for a Thoroughbred.”

A statement that was too insulting, too outrageous, and far too true forced Lottie to bite back some wholly inappropriate laughter.

Laughter which soon died in her throat when the woman skewered her with a glower that was much too intuitive.

“I do hope that you will indulge me with more honesty, Miss Travers, when I put it to you that I suspect there is more to the tale of your sudden dismissal than the common gossip suggests?” The emphasis on the word “common” made Lottie wonder if Miss P’s network of spies had nothing on this old dragon’s.

“For I smell shenanigans, young lady, and my nose is never wrong.”

She was sorely tempted to answer with the truth but Miss P’s elbow in her ribs urged caution.

“Surely, borrowing a Thoroughbred without permission, no matter what the provocation, would be considered shenanigans enough for any employer to terminate employment?” Lottie made sure to stare the woman straight in the eye.

“Under usual circumstances, most would think so, Miss Travers. But I am not most people and the fact that it isn’t so much Lord Chadwell as his son who currently wants your head on a spike is what makes this so unusual.

” The old woman’s lips curled at the mention of Chadwell’s odious heir. “Did that scoundrel take liberties?”

Despite the hard press of Miss P’s elbow in her side, Lottie’s gut told her to be honest. Even if it did mean that she had to kiss goodbye to a much-needed job and remove herself from this school for the foreseeable future. “He attempted to, Lady Frinton—but it did not end well for him.”

Lady Frinton threw her head back and roared with laughter.

Her cackles were so loud, they made the other fifty or so wedding guests stop what they were doing to stare.

“I like that answer even more, Miss Travers!” Then she turned her attention to Miss Prentice.

“She’ll do. Have her packed and waiting outside my house in Grosvenor Square on Thursday.

We leave for Scotland promptly at noon.”