CHAPTER FOURIt was not yet five minutes to seven when Sandra reached the stables to find that the Earl was already there.
She had intended to be earlier still, but it had taken her a little time to dress herself in the new habit her stepmother had bought for her in London and which she had not yet worn.
It was very becoming in the same blue as her eyes, and while extremely smart and up to date, it was not in the least flamboyant.
She had seen some of the women riding in Rotten Row and thought that they were definitely overdressed and, although their habits fitted to perfection, they were in bad taste.
She was too inexperienced to realise that these were the ‘Cyprians’, the ‘bits o’ muslin’ whom no lady would notice and she merely thought that pretty though they were, she did not wish t
