He nodded solemnly. “Indeed, my dear, you are an example to us all.”

She hid her smile beneath her bonnet brim; it was a standing joke that she was always the last to appear having had her nose in a book or become lost in her music.

Bentley met her at the foot of the staircase holding out his arm. She had no option but to place her hand on it. It was the same as when they had danced together last night, just touching him made her feel decidedly odd. She daren’t glance sideways; he would see that her cheeks were flushed and know he was affecting her.

“Oh my! A high perch phaeton - I had no idea you would drive such a thing.”

“I am a noted whipster, my lady. Unfortunately, as you can see, I will be unable to accommodate your maid. However, it’s perfectly permissible to drive in an open carriage in broad daylight without risking your reputation.”

Mary was rigid with disapproval. Isobel was tempted to refuse to accompany him, but the resulting fracas would cause distress to her relatives and she would not willingly do that. He was perfectly correct, only in a closed carriage did she need to be chaperoned.

Smiling apologetically at her abigail she continued down the marble steps where the alarming vehicle was waiting. A diminutive tiger was all but swinging from the head of the lead horse as it stamped and pawed the ground in its eagerness to be away.

Without a by your leave his strong hands gripped her waist and she was all but tossed aboard. The phaeton rocked alarmingly and she clutched the side and it did so again as he joined her.

His tiger released his grip and shot to the rear of the vehicle to scramble, not a moment too soon, on to the step at the rear. With a flick of his whip the duke released the team and they moved smoothly away from the path and on to the main thoroughfare. There was no conversation between them, she kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead fearing that at any minute the spirited team would spook and deposit her on the road.