“Foster has sent someone to fetch a couple of hackneys for us,” Jonathan told them as they reentered the parlor. “They should be here by now.” He set down his empty glass, flung out an all-encompassing arm in the direction of his sister and her friends and swept them out into the hall. Guy finished his whisky in a more leisurely fashion before following them outside, where two cabs awaited, one seating four comfortably, the other only two.

“Rutherford, you escort Mrs. Lacey and Mrs. Tremayne. Your sister and I will take the second one.”

Petra opened her mouth to object but her brother was already handing Diana and Fenella into the larger of the cabs. Guy had taken her elbow and was turning her toward the smaller vehicle before she could summon a reasonable protest. She climbed up into the carriage wondering how he had managed so smoothly and swiftly to maneuver four independent-minded people into the positions he’d chosen for them.

“There now,” Guy said with a note of satisfaction, taking his seat beside her. “You look a little put out, Petra. Are you?”

She shook her head. It was a perfectly sensible traveling arrangement, there was no point feeling manipulated, even if she had been. Besides, she was supposed to be showing only a careless, friendly indifference to the man; expressing annoyance would give him the opposite impression.

“Of course not. How could anyone be put out on such a glorious day?” She gave him a bland smile, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m surprised you don’t have one of those motors, Guy. I would have thought you’d have been one of the first to drive one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why do you assume I haven’t one?”

“Because you’re sitting in a hackney,” she responded.

“As it happens I do own a motor, but I don’t use it around town. There’s too much horse traffic.”

“I can see your point,” Petra said agreeably. “Do you keep it at Ashton Court?”

“I do.” He turned his head to look at her. “Perhaps later this summer, after the Season, I’ll persuade you to join a small house party at Ashton Court and I’ll show you the pleasures of a leisurely drive around the countryside. It’s very pretty around there.”

“I know it is,” she said. “I live there myself, if you remember.”

“Ah, yes, so you do. How unchivalrous of me to forget.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she responded with a mock frown. “You can’t be expected to remember everything, after all it’s been ten years since we last spoke. I’m sure you haven’t given that summer a second thought.”

Guy’s eyebrows lifted. “Petra, how long am I going to pay for an act that I freely admit now was both discourteous and unthinking?”