Page 5 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

“He needs a shake. A bloody good one,” Ash said, frowning. “I only hope it does some good.”

“Can’t hurt, at least,” Leo said as Ash gestured for him to stop.

“Drop me here, there’s a good fellow. Are you going to the Marchams’ ball tonight?”

“I don’t know. I suppose so,” Leo said, not much caring for the idea. Vi wasn’t going because Kitty was giving a dinner party.

“Well, if you go, I’ll see you there,” Ash replied, jumping down and disappearing into the crowd.

Leo drew his team back into the traffic, not feeling the slightest interest in the ball that evening, and far more concerned with his strategy for winning Vi over. He turned to Mau, who was sitting up now, watching the passing scenery with the dismissive eye of a creature who’d seen it all before.

“What should I do, Mau?” he asked the great cat, as he often did. Large yellow eyes turned in his direction and stared placidly back at him. “Don’t give up? Yes, that’s what I thought. If at first you don’t succeed, eh? Good advice, old man,” Leo replied, stroking the cat’s silken head.

Mau closed his eyes and purred and the two went home in perfect accord.

24th June 1850, Piccadilly, London.

It was with a sense of déjà vu that Vi saw the tilbury coming down the street towards her home the following Monday. Having decided on another tactic, Vi strode out of the parlour to the front door. Pembury handed her gloves to her, standing as stiff as a ramrod. He was extremely tall, and she had to look up a good way to nod her thanks. His expression was one even the queen’s butler would find impressive. She must tell Mama to get the poor fellow to relax, for he looked like he’d swallowed a wasp. Button opened the door for her and Vi strode out, surprised when Pembury followed her. She walked down the front steps and stood on the pavement waiting as Leo brought the tilbury to a halt in front of her.

For a moment, he stood staring at her in bemusement.

“You’re keen,” he observed, his lips twitching.

“The sooner we go, the sooner it will be over,” she told him candidly. “Are you just going to sit there, or are you thinking of helping me up?”

“Of course, love,” he said, grinning at her as he leapt down and offered her his hand. He glanced at Pembury and waved the fellow away. “I can look after the lady.”

Pembury cast Leo a dark look and glared at Mau but stayed where he was. Leo shook his head and turned back to her. “I say, I like that rig, Vi.”

Vi gently pushed Mau to one side as the cat sighed and rearranged himself, and then sat down, smoothing out the lovely shot silk of her gown

“Shove up, Mau,” Leo said, giving the cat a little push.

Mau protested, miaowing volubly, and Vi stifled a laugh as Pembury stared at Leo and the cat with an expression that might have been horror.

Leo touched the ribbon of her bonnet, giving it a little tweak. “Fabulous colour.”

The ribbons matched the rest of her ensemble. It was a pretty outfit, and she was secretly delighted by it. A soft dusty pink shot silk, it had a green aspect when the light hit it, and the flounces on her skirts fluttered and ruffled in the light summer breeze. Her high brim bonnet was lined with the same fabric with little clusters of silk roses that framed her face. The effect was charming, though Vi had worried that perhaps it was too young and frivolous an outfit for a woman on the shady side of thirty years. The trouble was she had fallen in love with both the design and the fabric and Kitty had persuaded her to buy it.

Vi glanced at Leo as he climbed in, for she had to admit his taste was exceptionally good and, whilst she would have bitten off her tongue rather than admit it, his approval mattered.

“You like it?”

“I do,” he said, waiting for Mau to settle himself down again before turning in his seat to give her a critical once over.

Vi blushed under his scrutiny, wondering if the tiny lines she feared she had detected around her eyes that morning were very noticeable in the bright sunshine.

“Dashing,” he pronounced after a long moment. “But with elegance enough to carry it off.”

“Yes!” Vi exclaimed, before she remembered she was not supposed to encourage him. “That’s just what I thought. I fretted it was too young a style, but I think the dusty pink elevates it. If it had been a rose pink, it would not have been at all the thing.”

Leo rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, you’d have looked a shocking sight, and everyone would have stared,” he said, deadpan.

Vi ignored the sarcasm. “I don’t think everyone would have stared, but I do believe many would have thought me foolish for trying to pretend I am still a girl.”

“Lord, Vi, I swore I would not vex you today, but you try my patience when you spout such blasted nonsense,” he said. “In the first place, I’m not interested in silly young girls who do not have a thought in their heads worth listening to. In the second, you talk as though you are in your dotage, when every fellow with eyes turns to stare at you wherever you go.”

“Indeed, they do not!” Vi exclaimed, not about to accept this piece of flummery, for it was pure fantasy.