The Wicked Baron

Carlotta agreed and hurried downstairs to join her aunt and uncle in the carriage that would take them to the river. They found the rest of the party waiting from them on the quay and they all set off in high good humour for Vauxhall.

‘This is your first visit to the gardens, Miss Rivington?’ asked Mr Woollatt as they alighted on the far side of the river.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then I think you will enjoy the spectacle. The Grove, you see, is before us—that large rectangle, enclosed by trees and colonnades. Mr Price has hired a supper box for us on the far side, I believe, from where you will be able to watch and listen to the orchestra while we eat. Before that, of course, there is the cascade to be seen, and later, we have the funambulist.’ He smiled at her look of surprise. ‘Madame Saqui, the tight-rope walker—more properly called a funambulist.’

‘Oh,’ said Carlotta.

His smile widened. ‘You see, Miss Rivington,’ he continued, ‘I will endeavour to fill your evening with education as well as entertainment.’

‘Oh,’ she said again.

‘For example, did you know that there are over one hundred supper boxes in these gardens?’

‘Yes, so shall we find ours?’ put in Mrs Price, coming up. ‘It is far too bright yet to see the walks at their best. Instead, we shall all enjoy a cup of arrack punch.’

Carlotta made haste to agree, thinking she would need something if she was to endure Mr Woollatt’s rather pompous lectures for the whole evening.

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