Alyssa stretched, yawning as the drapes were pulled open and the sun allowed to shine into the decadently huge bedchamber. Her maid, Beth, hurried to the hangings on the bed, pulling them aside and tying them so that they created a swag against the tall bed posts. Then she sat a tray across her mistress's lap, and hurried to straighten the room.
A pot of chocolate, toast and a petite omelet met Alyssa's eyes when she glanced down at the food sent to tempt her palate. With a smile, she lifted the pot, pouring a small amount of the hot drink into a fragile porcelain cup and lifted it to her mouth.
"So Bethy," she said after sampling the treat. "What's on the schedule for today? Does papa have me scurrying pillar to post after social acceptance again?"
Beth, new to Alyssa and not used to her ways, flushed. "Miss, I'm sure Lord Edward is just looking out for your future."
Alyssa laughed, a gay trill of notes that were lovely as they floated on the air. "My father is just trying to wed me off to the closest eligible man that passes muster, Beth. We both know this." She sighed. "And I suppose it is what I deserve for the sins of my past."
"What sins are these?" Cat said, walking in without knocking, pulling off her riding gloves. She strode to the bed to plop down next to her friend. Lady Catherine Trent, sister of Lord Matthew Trent, Duke of Marshalling, was an appealing sight.
She was a lovely minx with almond shaped eyes, lush pink lips and a tiny straight nose that she swore had a bump in the center, though Alyssa had never seen it. Her hair, thick and black as a raven's wing in the sunlight, was coiled and coiffed into a fashionable style. A high top hat, meant to mimic a man's, perched daintily among the curls. Emerald green ribbons hung from the brim, ready to trail in the wind as she rode.
It made Alyssa deplore her own red mop that never stayed in its pins, always falling to curl riotously around her face. Cat's tawny skin made her self-conscious about her own pale flesh that grew red and flushed with the least little exertion.
In a split-skirt riding habit that would have all the scandal mongers tongues a wagging, Cat was the epitome of upper class elegance. The habit was made of fine wool, emerald green to match the young beauty's eyes.
"The sin's of our past, Cat, which you should well know -since you helped me commit most of them."
Cat leaned over and lifted the small cup, taking a sip before answering. "Of course I know them, silly. They and you are the only things that made Madame Bridgette's Finishing School for Young Ladies bearable." She rolled her eyes. "Remember Monsieur Tremaine and his stuffy etiquette class?"
Alyssa found herself chuckling. "I thought the man would have an apoplectic fit the day he came in and saw what you had done to his table. Stealing the silverware was one thing, Cat, but writing curses in French on the napkins? That was over the top."
"You thought it was an excellent idea at the time," Cat answered, her eyes shining.
"Yes, and I still thought it a good idea even after I was sent to the kitchen to peel potatoes for the next three days. My punishment for your crime."
"Oh come on, Lyssie, that was last year. You could have told on me and saved yourself, you know. How many times do I need to apologize?" Cat reached for the toast that Alyssa had just spread with strawberry preserves, stealing a bite before returning it to her friend.
"I don't tattle on friends. And I know you don't, but perhaps you can give me some information. I met someone yesterday and I've developed a curiosity. Since you know everyone..." she trailed off.
"Who?" Cat asked quickly, shifting forward on the bed. "Who is he?"
"Lord Jason Ashington," Alyssa said, her voice lowering to a whisper. "What do you know of him?"
"Handsome, intelligent, witty, and a confirmed bachelor." Cat sighed dramatically.
"How did you meet him? He's definitely not interested in unsophisticated debutantes."
"I almost ran him down in the park. He was bent over, picking up his hat when Vixen and I rode by." A chuckle escaped her as she remembered the look upon his face. "He thought Vixen was running away with me and charged to my rescue."
"He caught Vixen?" Cat asked, her eyes huge. Alyssa's big brute of a horse was more than even she wanted to tackle. Vixen refused to let anyone near him except his handler and Alyssa.
"Don't sound so shocked. It wasn't as if I were racing him. I didn't know he was chasing me until he pulled me from the saddle."
"He unhorsed you? This is an event to mark on the calendar." Cat laughed as Alyssa threw her napkin at her. "Jason Ashington, and you got that close to him," she sighed. "I know dozens of girls who would kill to exchange places with you. So what happened when he realized his mistake?"
Alyssa felt her cheeks warm and cursed her fair skin.
"Ah ha, I knew something happened. Now you have to tell me," Cat said, spying that telltale blush.
"I bit him."
"You what?" Cat asked, sitting back with her small fingers covering her mouth.
"I bit him. He had me across his lap in the most demeaning of fashions and I had no idea who he was. So...I bit him."
"Where?"
"In the park, silly. I told you that's where I met him."