“Very wise of you,” observed his lordship with a dry smile. He looked her over carefully. “You are quite right. I judge that you are not the scientific type at all.”
Louisa waited, wondering what his lordship would say next.
“Yes,” Atherton said slowly. “I judge that you are the romantic type.”
“But I do not believe in romance,” protested Louisa. “I am a very practical person.”
His lordship shook his head. “I think not. On the surface perhaps you
appear
to be practical. But deep in your heart you are romantic to the core.”
Louisa laughed with embarrassment. “I do not even believe in heroes,” she reminded him.
“The practical part of you may not,” conceded his lordship, his eyes boring suddenly into hers. “But the romantic part of you does. Or wants to.”
Louisa could not tear her eyes away from his, even though she was extremely fearful of what he might read there.
Finally he reached out and patted her gloved hand. “Do not stare at me with such wide fearful eyes. Or I shall begin to suspect that I am cast as villain rather than hero in this drama.”
“Oh no! That is ...” Louisa dropped her eyes in confusion, then rallied. “You have many times assured me of your position as a hero,” said she. “Surely now you will not back down. Where is
your
stubbornness?”
Atherton laughed. “Another hit. You do well.” He chuckled. “You will have no trouble putting down the exquisite or the pomposity should either require it.”
Louisa could not forbear from giggling. “The exquisite would at least
hear
me if I gave him a set down. I’m not sure that I could get through to the pomposity.” She stumbled over the word, but it
was
such an adequate description of Lord Harvey that she could not help using it.
Atherton frowned thoughtfully. “I had not considered that,” said he. “I judge that Harvey will be much more difficult to discourage than Reardon. Especially as he may enlist Aunt Julia as an ally.”
“Oh no!” The thought of Aunt Julia encouraging anyone to enter the state of matrimony caused her to burst into peals of laughter.
Atherton regarded her in surprise until she was able to speak properly. “It’s ... it’s just that the idea of Aunt Julia encouraging me to marry ... is so amusing.”
Atherton nodded. “I take it that Aunt Julia does not look with favor upon the institution of matrimony.”
Louisa also nodded. “That’s true,” said she. “But it isn’t the institution that has so much earned her animosity as it is the male half of the species.”
“I see,” replied Atherton. “Was Aunt Julia born with such animosity or did she come by it later?”
Louisa shook her head. “I do not know. When Aunt Julia came to live with us, almost five years ago, she was just like she is now. At least in regard to her opinion of men. She regards everything male with distrust.”
“Except,” said Atherton with a quick smile, “when she has a desire for his skull.”
“Yes,” Louisa laughed. “Phrenology has caused her to forget her distrust, but only momentarily. Generally, after she feels a man’s skull, she finds her suspicions confirmed.”
The Viscount laughed. “At any rate,” said he, “I should put my blunt on you. Even the two of them could not persuade you.”
Louisa’s laugh was a little shaky, for she found all this discussion of her matrimonial prospects a little disconcerting, particularly with this man.
Fortunately the driver had pulled up to the Amphitheater and both Harry and Betsy were calling gleefully. “We’re there, Louisa. We’re at the circus.”
Louisa’s own eyes sparkled as Atherton handed her down. “You look like a child yourself,” said his lordship. “All wide eyes and smile.”
“I, too, am eager to see the circus,” said Louisa with a shy smile. “Perhaps you were right about my growing up too soon.”
The Viscount smiled. “Today we are all children. We shall all marvel together.” With that he tucked her arm through his and led her inside to their box.
As the children settled into their seats, Louisa looked around her. The building was huge, shaped somewhat in the form of an egg. From the center of the ceiling was suspended a magnificent glass chandelier containing many many patent lamps. From their box she looked down into the large equestrian circle, now empty.
“Look, look,” cried Harry. “The horses will gallop right down there - on the sawdust.”
The sound of music intrigued Betsy and she quickly located the orchestra in its place in front of the stage and pointed it out to Louisa.
As they watched, a clown came tumbling into the ring, looked up to the audience and shouted, “Here we are!” After him stalked the ringmaster with his long whip in hand. He turned and bowed gracefully to the crowd. His military uniform and voluminous white stock gave him the appearance of great dignity and even the sawdust could not diminish the splendor of his highly polished black boots. The clown somersaulted up to him and began to trade badinage to the inexpressible delight of the audience.
Then the music grew more martial and the clown retired to make way for a troop of horses that came galloping into the equestrian circle. Young Harry, practically beside himself with excitement, was bouncing on his seat and crying repeatedly, “Look! Oh, look!”
The horses circled the ring and slid to a dramatic halt. Harry expelled a long sigh of pure contentment and Louisa turned to Atherton with a smile. “Harry will never forget this day. You have been so good to us -all of us.” Sudden tears came into her eyes and she had to blink rapidly to keep them back.
The Viscount’s hand closed over hers comfortingly. “I collect I was very right to bring you here,” said he. “But you need not be so piteously grateful.” His eyes twinkled dangerously. “If you persist in regarding me with so much gratitude shining in those wide gray eyes of yours I shall begin to think that I have really become a hero rather than an ordinary Corinthian who has escaped his
ennui
by taking some children to the circus.”
Louisa managed a small smile. She must stop this, she told herself firmly. She was behaving like a schoolroom miss. It simply would not do to go on in this fashion. The best way, perhaps, would be to rally him as he had her. “You had best be careful, milord,” said she with a mischievous smile. “I collect you are in danger of being puffed up.”
Atherton’s eyes glittered. “I trust that you will set me down, if I should become
too
puffed up. Set me down properly, wouldn’t you?”
Fortunately for Louisa she was not called upon to reply to this. For their performance finished, the military horses thundered from the ring with a mighty pounding of hooves, leaving only the ringmaster behind.
Then a single white horse entered the equestrian circle. On its back, resplendent in pink tights and spangled gauze, was perched a small rider.
“Louisa, oh look!” It was Betsy’s turn to exclaim in joyous wonder as the solitary figure rose gracefully to her feet - on the horse’s back.
Harry appeared to have been rendered absolutely dumb by the events before him, but from time to time soft sighs and exclamations issued from the enchanted Betsy’s lips.
Louisa found her own eyes fastened on the little figure. As the ringmaster indicated with his whip that the horse increase its pace, Louisa held her breath. It seemed incredible that the girl could keep her feet as the horse went faster and faster. And then, Louisa caught her breath sharply as one foot left the surface of the horse’s back and the girl stood balanced on one slender leg.
The girl’s foot seemed to slip and Louisa caught her breath with a gasp that caused Atherton to turn to her curiously. “She is all right,” said he softly. “That is part of her routine.”
And so it seemed for now the slender figure in pink was astride the horse and then she was lying backwards, her head near his tail, her pink legs in the air.
This was too much for Louisa. Her eyes shut of their own accord. “Come now,” said Atherton. “The girl will not be injured. This is her life. Open your eyes and look.”
Obediently Louisa did as she was told and saw the vision in pink comfortably astride again, her horse moving out of the circle.
Through the rest of the show Louisa sat just as entranced as the children. The horses seemed as well-trained as people; with ease and style they moved through their paces. Whether they were the steps of a country dance or the galloping and falling of a charging brigade in mock death, they performed most admirably, Louisa thought, their necks arching proudly as though they were aware of their good performance.
The whole afternoon was one of utter enchantment. The monkeys, the trained dogs, and the little scenes on the stage, all were greeted by cries of admiration.
Some time later, when the four of them exited from the building, Louisa was as flushed and starry-eyed as the children. “Oh, your lordship,” said Harry in tones of awing adoration. “This has been the best day of my whole life.”
“Mine, too,” echoed Betsy. “I’ll never forget it as long as I live. Never.”
Louisa swallowed over a sudden lump in her throat and was glad for the arrival of the carriage. For she was conscious that her pleasure, too, must be showing on her face. And she did not want Atherton to discover that for her, too, this was perhaps the happiest day of her life.
The children settled on the squabs across from Atherton and Louisa, their eyes still shining with enchantment.
“Oh, Louisa,” sighed Betsy dreamily. “She was just beautiful. Like an angel balancing there on that horse. Better than a heroine out of one of Lady Incognita’s books.”
“That was all right,” said Harry. “But the best thing was when they charged like in a war, and the horses fell down, like they were dead. Oh, sir, it was just bang-up, it was.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” said his lord-ship. “And I must offer you
my
thanks.”
“What for?” asked both the children in surprise.
His lordship’s face remained quite serious. “Why, for accompanying me to Astley’s.”
“Oh,” said Betsy. “You’re teasing us.”
“Indeed, I am not,” said Atherton seriously. “Your presence brought back to me my first attendance at Astley’s. I have to admit, however, that I found today’s excursion even more enjoyable than my first.”
Again that sadness that Louisa had seen once before crossed his lordship’s features. He saw her eyes upon him and shrugged nonchalantly. “My tutor was not a particularly fun-loving person,” he observed with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “And I had no friends as a boy.”
His eyes met Louisa’s and he smiled cynically. “That was one of the privileges that wealth earned me - a boyhood spent in the company of tutors.”
Louisa, remembering her rather harsh comments about wealth, found herself coloring up but did not reply.
Atherton shook his dark head. “Enough of this,” said he. “I collect your childhood was a lonely one, too.”
“I suppose it was,” agreed Louisa. “It was very secluded, but I had Mama and Winky, and the little ones, so I didn’t notice it.”
The Viscount’s hand again closed over hers. “At any rate, I am pleased to have been the first to take you all to the circus.”
Louisa, very much aware of his fingers on hers, managed to smile. “Thank you for that.”
“Yes! That’s what I shall do,” announced Betsy suddenly. “I have decided.”
“What have you decided?” asked Louisa with a startled smile.
“I have decided to be a bareback rider at Astley’s - like the beautiful lady. And everyone will look at me and say how lovely I am. Yes, that’s what I shall do.”
While Louisa stared in dumbfounded silence, Harry spoke. “I would rather be a rope dancer, like I heard Drimble telling cook about. He saw him at Bartholomew Fair. You get up and walk across this rope. And it’s very dangerous, of course, because the rope is up high.”
“What I want to do is dangerous, too,” Betsy insisted.
Louisa turned dismayed eyes to his lordship.
“That sounds like an admirable idea,” said he, his fingers tightening on hers, warning her to silence. “I’m sure Betsy would look famous up there on a horse. It would only take her about ten years of practice every single day to get that good. But that’s not much time, not when it’s what she wants. And if she falls, as they always do when they’re learning, well, the sawdust is soft. I’m sure she won’t get hurt.
“And Harry will make an admirable rope dancer, with yellow tights and a parasol like a lady. Of course some people may want to laugh at a boy in such clothes, but I’m sure Harry won’t mind. Not for something that important.”
There was silence as the carriage moved along through London’s crowded streets. Louisa found she was holding her breath as though she dared not say anything. And then Betsy spoke.
“The lady
was
lovely,” she said. “But, well, the more I think about it, the more I realize that perhaps I should not do so well. I am not particularly fond of horses either. I suppose I had better just come out as we planned and look for my hero.”
Louisa was so relieved at this that she didn’t even wince at the mention of heroes.
And then Harry was heard from. “Para-sols, sir? Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, my boy,” said his lordship without a hint of amusement in his deep voice.
“... I do not think I should do so well at rope dancing either,” admitted Harry. “After all,” his voice rose eagerly as though he had lighted on a sudden inspiration. “There will be my duties as Baron to be considered.”
“Quite true, Harry,” said his lordship, still keeping all amusement out of his voice. “A gentleman must regard his duties and responsibilities if he is to be worthy of the name. I think you have made a wise choice. As Baron Penhope you will want to care for your sisters.”
“Of course,” said young Harry with a pomposity that caused Louisa to choke suddenly and reach for her handkerchief.
Atherton’s eyes met hers with great warmth and she found herself smiling at him. How extremely well he could handle the children. If only ... But she pushed that thought resolutely from her mind. Certainly the children were benefiting from his lordship’s friendship now, no matter how short its duration. And that was all there was to it -nothing more.