The Art of Love Read Free Page A

Tara sat up straighter, wondering which of her acquaintances she would see first. She was bound to run into some old friends, she was certain; she had never yet been to Regent’s Park without meeting someone she knew. She was leaning over the edge of the carriage, looking at a woman wearing a particularly large hat, trying to decide whether she knew her or if it was simply the hat which had attracted her attention when a hand on her bare arm made her jump.
    ‘Oh!’ she said, sitting back and eyeing Rodney sceptically. He didn’t seem to notice her discomposure.
    ‘It is a lovely day, is it not?’ he said, somewhat woodenly, she thought, but agreed that it was. ‘This is very nice, us together, here, alone, in the park.’
    ‘We’re not really alone,’ Tara contradicted, ‘there must be thirty or forty people in plain sight from here.’
    ‘But they are not in this carriage.’
    ‘Well, obviously not,’ Tara eyed him closely, Rodney was not usually so banal; had he not yet recovered from the effects of staying late at Freddie’s party last night?
    ‘So although we can see and be seen, which is the whole point of this park, we are able to have a conversation which is quite unheard and which is utterly private,’ Rodney said, sounding a little more like his usual self.
    ‘That is so,’ Tara agreed, wondering uneasily where he was leading.
    ‘Which is good,’ Rodney said, ‘because there is something I particularly want to ask you.’ Ignoring the horses he took her hand between his own and looked into her eyes. ‘It is something of a rather delicate nature, something which I hope you will not find too forward and something to which I sincerely hope you will agree.’
    No, Tara thought in a panic, he is going to propose. A proposal was the very last thing she wanted to hear from Rodney. He was handsome, charming, well mannered, rich, made amusing conversation and she enjoyed his company, but not enough to choose to forgo the companionship of all her other admirers. Freddie, for example, was fun to flirt with and his kiss was yet untried, and dear Philippe, whose gentle and unassuming manner made him so easy to be with. If she settled for all that one man had to offer her she would lose so much. She would never be able to enjoy the flirtatious friendship of a single gentleman again. ‘Isn’t that Lady Cottenham over there?’ she said pointing wildly, hoping to distract Rodney. She did not, in truth, know anyone called Cottenham, but it was the first name that had sprung to mind.
    ‘Forget Lady Cottenham,’ Rodney said, gazing into her eyes.
    ‘But I must -’ Tara began when she was interrupted by an indignant quack. The horses had come to a standstill and a train of ducks were crossing the path, annoyed to find hooves blocking their way. Tara laughed, in relief. ‘Oh look,’ she said, ‘Aren’t they sweet? Those ducklings look almost big enough to take wing on their own, but they can’t quite bring themselves to leave their mama.’
    ‘Yes, very sweet, like a picture, in fact, which brings me back to -’
    ‘I say, Rodney,’ Tara interrupted him and smiled archly, deciding to try a more direct approach. ‘This Phaeton of yours pulls very smoothly at a sedate pace, but what’s it like at speed?’
    ‘She’s capital!’ Rodney said at once. ‘Flies like the breeze, near enough to silent except for the horses hooves and – but why am I telling you all this when I can just as easily show you?’
    ‘Where?’ Tara asked, not needing to hide her pleasure at having distracted Rodney with the thing that was really dearest to his heart.
    ‘Over there,’ Rodney indicated with his whip at Rotten Row.
    ‘You want to race along there? With the riders?’ Tara exclaimed before she could stop herself.
    ‘Oh, they won’t mind,’ Rodney said easily. Tara was not convinced, but she managed to keep her doubts to herself. Besides, the prospect of flying along in a Phaeton at top speed was starting to