They entered the park and began their slow ride. Carter had picked a good time because there were some vehicles and strollers about, but the usual crowds who filled the park in the warmer weather were still most likely lounging in their beds.
Within a few minutes, however, they were approached by two carriages. Mrs. Silverstein and her daughter rode in one and nodded in their direction. The second carriage held Lady Edwards-Hughes, along with two other ladies Lottie didn’t know.
Lady Edwards-Hughes waved them down. Carter placed his hand on hers resting in her lap. “Be at ease, sweetheart.” He smiled at the ladies. “Good morning, ladies. Beautiful day for a ride, is it not?”
The second woman in the carriage, who apparently knew Carter looked him in the eye. “I understand you married recently, Mr. Westbrooke?”
“Yes. I did. In fact, allow me to present to you ladies my wife, Mrs. Westbrooke.”
He turned to Lottie. “May I make known to you Lady Edwards-Hughes, Mrs. Edward Turner, and Mrs. Gregory Cooper.”
Lottie already knew Lady Edwards-Hughes through one of her students but did not know the other two. She smiled and nodded her head. “Good morning, ladies. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
The one who had been introduced as Mrs. Cooper raised a quizzing glass and stared at her. “Why don’t I know you, gel? Are you from London?”
“No, ma’am. I live here in Bath.”
She harrumphed. “You must have been hiding.”
Although Lottie’s heart was pounding, and she could feel the perspiration on her upper lip, so far none of the ladies either knew who she was or didn’t care. That last part was highly unlikely since women were known to love the sound of a scandal.
“You must bring your lovely new wife to dinner one evening, Mr. Westbrooke. I will send a note around.” Lady Edwards-Hughes tapped her driver with her parasol and the carriage moved forward.
Carter turned to her with a bright smile on his face. “That went rather well, wouldn’t you say?”
Lottie followed the carriage with her eyes. “Yes. It did go well.” She turned back to Carter. “Not that I am looking for trouble, but I have a feeling Lady Edwards-Hughes will ‘forget’ to send around a note. Once she makes known to her circle of friends who your new wife is, she will no doubt be told about my scandalous background.”
Carter took in a deep breath as their carriage moved forward again. “Lottie you must stop this. You do not have a scandalous background. You have been nothing but a proper, upstanding, honorable young lady. You are not your mother.”
They remained silent for the rest of the carriage ride, except for a few comments on the budding flowers. Carter took the carriage from the park to Milsom Street where they left it at a public mews and began their stroll.
They visited a few of the shops. Lottie bought a new hat and pair of gloves that Carter insisted she absolutely must have. She rather enjoyed purchasing things and not watching her money dwindle.
“I believe it is time for luncheon, my dear. Shall we proceed to Sally Lunn’s?”
It was less than a ten-minute walk from the Milsom street shops to North Parade Passage where Sally Lunn’s was located. Lottie was still on edge every time someone approached them and spoke with Carter, but so far no one screamed ‘harlot’ at her. Was it possible that no one in Bath really cared that the well-known solicitor and businessman, son of the Earl of Huntingdon, and brother to the Viscount Hastings married the daughter of a courtesan?
As much as she would have loved to think that, she remained on guard.
“Westbrooke, come join us.” A man waved to them as they entered the restaurant. He sat at a table big enough for six, but only two other men sat with him.
Lottie immediately stiffened and stopped in her tracks. “No. I don’t think we should join them.”
Carter wrapped his arm around her waist and moved her forward. “These are friends of mine from Harrow.”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head, feeling as though he was dragging her toward her death.
“They are nice men. You have nothing to worry about.”
Lottie took a deep breath and allowed him to lead her to the table. The three men stood as they arrived. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to my wife, Mrs. Lottie Westbrooke.”
“Wife!” One of the men grinned in Carter’s direction. “So you got caught in the parson’s noose.”
“Lottie, these reprobates are Mr. Collins, Mr. Wilkerson, and Lord Derby.”
Her mouth dried as desert sand, Lottie merely nodded and smiled.
“I say, Mrs. Westbrooke, you look familiar.” Lord Derby tilted his head, studying her.