“Thank you.” Miss Bronson sat demurely. “I’m not sure there’s much that’s interesting about me.”

“I doubt that. Everyone has their own individual talents and character traits. Tell me, what do you like to do in your leisure time?”

Miss Bronson’s dark brows pinched. “I enjoy reading, and when my family quits London for the season, we stay in Bath. I love the old Roman ruins. I miss it dreadfully when we’re in town.”

“Do you swim?”

Miss Bronson gave a delicate laugh. “Yes, as often as I can. It’s a delightful refreshment for the heat of the summer.”

“At least you can swim. I confess I’ve never learned.”

“Truly?” Miss Bronson leaned forward. “I suppose there’s not much opportunity in London.”

“Not unless you wish to brave the Serpentine or the Thames.” Joan giggled, but then sobered. She shoved all thoughts of the duke into the back of her mind and forced a controlled appearance. “I suppose if I lived near the sea it would be more prudent to learn, but I don’t think I’ll be needing to swim anytime soon.”

“You’re quite safe in London from swimming,” Miss Bronson agreed. “What of you? What are some of your favorite things to do?”

Joan was starting to form words when the maid came in with the tea service. “Thank you.” She stood and lifted a teacup. “How do you take your tea, Miss Bronson?”

“Cream, no sugar, please.”

Joan served her the tea and then indicated to the butter biscuit plate. “Our cook has a fantastic biscuit recipe.”

“You’ve convinced me,” Miss Bronson replied cheerfully and took a biscuit.

Joan served herself tea and then sat back down. Biting into a flaky, sweet biscuit, she thought over Miss Bronson’s question. “I suppose I enjoy reading; I also love riding and utterly hate needlepoint.”

This confession earned a snicker from Miss Bronson. “On that we are agreed.”

“Odious and time-consuming activity,” Joan added.

“And what does it accomplish? Another frilly decoration? Or napkin, or handkerchief? As if we do not have enough already.”

“Exactly!” Joan lifted her teacup in approval.

The clock chimed half past, and Joan nodded to her new friend. “I suppose we should start our journey if we are to be there by noon.”

“Indeed.”

“We can take my carriage. Will that work?” Joan asked.

“Perfectly.” Miss Bronson rose from her seat and placed the empty teacup and saucer by the tray. “Betsey?” She turned to her maid.

“I’ll send word to Mary, and she will meet us in the front.”

Soon Joan sat beside Miss Bronson and across from their two maids as they started toward the Foundling Hospital in Bloomsbury.