They sound so – so fascinating." She could not remember a single word he had said about his horses, but it seemed a safe subject. "Yes," he said vaguely. "My horses. I have one in London, to ride in Rotten Row. Society goes to Hyde Park, and parades there, on foot or on horseback." "Then I must go," she said. "I believe you would enjoy it. Of course I left the rest of my horses in the country because, as you can imagine, I really have very little time to myself." "Don't you like anything about London at all? Not even being at court?" They had both calmed down now, managing to slip back into normal-sounding conversation, almost as though there was nothing else humming beneath. "In some ways being at court is the worst of all. I'm constantly in the middle of – " he checked himself. "Go on," she encouraged. "If I do, I'll sound like a conceited coxcomb." "I promise not to think so." "Very well.
