Sloane agreed that it was, but could say little more, because the supper arrived and soon everyone was piling plates full of paper-thin slices of ham and tiny chickens. A fruit girl filled dishes with fresh strawberries and cherries, and a sideboard offered a selection of wines and arrack, the heady punch always served at Vauxhall. His nephew dipped into the arrack more than once.
Soon a bell signalled the start of Madame Saqui’s daring rope dancing, and the young people poured out of the box in a hurry not to miss a moment of it. Lady Cowdlin and Lady Poltrop begged off, assuring Sloane they would be very comfortable in the supper box with each other for company and certain their husbands would return at any moment.
Sloane did not follow the young people to view Saqui’s performance, but rather strode across to the South Walk’s supper boxes to find Morgana.
Penny and Miss Moore were the only ones of the party seated in the box. Sloane’s eyes narrowed. Sir Reginald, one of Penny’s gaming-hell regulars, was there as well, not exactly the sort of company Morgana should keep.
She and the girls were likely watching Madame Saqui. Sloane threaded through the crowd exactly like the pickpockets were doing. He looked for Morgana, finally finding her, standing with Rose at the edge of the crowd, chatting with a grey-haired man. Just as he’d feared, they had attracted an admirer.
He pushed his way through.
‘Morgana!’ he cried, seizing her arm.
Morgana jumped, pulling away, before she realised the man who had accosted her was Sloane. She felt flushed with excitement to see him, even though she had not wished him to know they were there. Vexed at Katy for her impudent gibe as he passed them, Morgana saw the precise moment he’d recognised them. She should have realised he would come after her.
‘You have found us.’ She gave a defiant toss of her head. ‘I am going to box Katy’s ears.’
‘What the devil do you think you are doing?’ he said in a fierce whisper as he squeezed her arm.
She pointedly stared at the hand grasping her. ‘I am watching Madame Saqui,’ she said in patient tones. ‘And I do wish you would not always come rushing up to me, screeching my name.’
He released her.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he muttered.
She turned back to the spectacle, but her heart beat wildly, not at Madame Saqui’s daring exploits, but that she could be in this magical place with Sloane even for a few minutes. Perhaps for the time being she could pretend he was her beau, pretend he was not about to scold her again.
Madame Saqui faltered on the rope and teetered for several seconds before regaining her balance. The crowd gasped a collective ‘Ohhh!’ Perhaps Madame experienced the same sensation Morgana felt, as if she could tumble through the air.
Morgana had forgotten Rose was by her side until the girl touched Sloane’s sleeve. ‘Mr Sloane, may I introduce my father to you?’
‘Of course.’ He sounded as surprised as Morgana had been.
‘Mr Brian O’Keefe, one of the musicians here.’
Morgana had nearly fallen to the ground when the man came up to Rose. She’d made the girls promise they would not engage in any liaisons this first outing. Morgana had been about to send the man packing when Rose told her who he was.
Sloane shook the man’s hand. ‘Indeed?’
Madame Saqui was joined by her husband and son and the crowd applauded with approval. Morgana was more interested in watching how easily Sloane conversed with the musician, as at ease as if he were talking with a gentleman at Almack’s. It was a quality she greatly admired in him.
Rose and her father stepped away to watch the rest of the performance, and Sloane leaned in to whisper in Morgana’s ear, ‘What possessed you to bring those girls here? Do you not know what happens in this place? You are noticed, believe me. You look like a group of harlots.’
She knew this scold was forthcoming. ‘We are a group of harlots,’ she replied, her voice unapologetic. He must reconcile himself to the life they were training these young women to lead. So must she. ‘Madame Bisou said some practice would be beneficial.’
The performance ended to another burst of applause and cheers and the crowd began to disperse.
Rose came up to her again. ‘May I spend some more time with my father, Miss Hart? He will bring me back to the box.’
‘I think that would be very nice for you.’ Morgana smiled. She watched Mr O’Brien escort his daughter to the two-storey gazebo, from where the orchestra played high above the crowd. ‘Rose’s father. Imagine that.’
‘Gainfully employed, as well,’ Sloane added. ‘What the devil is she doing in your courtesan school?’
His scold seemed to be over, and he seemed more her friend again. It made her want to dance the night away with him.
‘I was wondering the very same thing.’ She took a breath to steady herself. ‘I should go back to the supper box.’
He took her arm more cordially than before. ‘That puts me of a mind to tell you that the gentleman cosying up to Penny is no man you should know.’
That puffy man with the exaggerated manners? Morgana could see no harm in him. She gave Sloane a saucy glance. ‘Oh, is he scandalous? As scandalous as you?’
He dipped down to her ear. ‘You have no idea how scandalous I can be.’ His voice was low and his breath on her skin warm.
She swallowed.
They passed under the arch near the supper box. Mary rushed up to them, Robert Duprey at her side. ‘Miss Hart! Miss Hart!’
Morgana was about to beg her to stop calling out her name, when Mary cried, ‘Lucy has run off!’
‘What?’ Morgana stopped.
Mary saw Sloane and gave a quick curtsy. ‘Good evening, sir.’
Duprey nodded. ‘Oddest thing. Standing happy as you please. Calls out, “He’s here!”, then takes off.’
Mary added, ‘Mr Elliot ran after her, but we thought we should find you right away. Or at least that is the advice Mr Duprey gave, which I thought was excellent.’
‘Elliot?’ exclaimed Sloane. ‘What the devil is he doing here?’
Morgana held up her hand to silence him. ‘Where did she go?’
‘Ran down the Dark Walk. Worst place. Dangerous,’ Duprey responded.
Lucy had been doing so well. She’d even seemed happy sometimes, blossoming, like her garden. Morgana could not bear it if someone had frightened her.
She turned to Sloane. ‘Will you take me to look for them? I dare not go alone.’
Sloane hesitated only a moment. ‘Come along.’
The Dark Walk was not totally without light, but the lamps were fewer and dark alcoves and small private rooms were dotted along the path. Some sounds of revelry could be heard from the shadows, and Morgana was glad Sloane was at her side.
‘I wonder if she saw the man from Hyde Park,’ Morgana said. ‘I cannot think anyone else would frighten her so. She wore a mask, for goodness’ sake. He would not have known her.’
‘I recognised you,’ Sloane reminded her.
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘But only after Katy made her silly comment.’
He stopped her for a moment and made her face him. ‘Morgana, when will you realise that you cannot truly hide behind a mask or a hat with netting? If you are where you should not be, it