How to Catch an Earl with Ten Lies: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Patricia Haverton

  “Miss Chapman!” he exclaimed, “Are you well? Is everything all right?”

  Miss Chapman extended her hand to him. “I am well. Just a trifle fatigued. I accompanied my sister this morning to visit her cat. It is some distance past the market, and then James and I walked back.”

  “Did your sister return alone then?” asked Benjamin, feeling some alarm.

  “No, no. She elected to stay a while longer. She and Lady Agatha have taken quite a shine to each other.”

  “Lady Agatha? The Lady Agatha Johnson who is friend to Lady Jersey?”

  “None other, it would seem. My sister and I were obliged to get rid of the cat. Our uncle is made extremely ill simply upon being in the presence of a cat, especially in an enclosed room. A friend of my sister’s recommended that we consult with Mrs. Albright to find someone willing to board the kitty.”

  “Mrs. Albright? The Mrs. Albright of Albright’s Agency and School of Refinement?”

  “The very one...” Miss Chapman glanced behind them. “Why don’t we find a place where your footman can put down that very large hamper, and I will tell you about our morning adventures.”

  They settled upon the secluded nook they had previously enjoyed. Benjamin’s footman opened the picnic hamper. With help from James, he spread the picnic blanket and even set out cushions. Then they unloaded the rest of the hamper. Miss Chapman obligingly exclaimed over each item, especially the cunning little marzipan unicorn.

  Benjamin and Penelope then each loaded their plates, and sent the two footmen off with the remains of the chicken.

  “Do you think they will be all right together?” Benjamin voiced a mild worry that the two footmen might somehow come to blows.

  “I’m sure they will,” Miss Chapman replied. “James has a lot of experience dealing with younger footmen. No doubt, he will regale the fellow with tales of his days as a horse jockey.”

  “So then, do tell me about your morning,” Benjamin said.

  “Really, it all began yesterday. After my chance meeting with you, I returned to the rooms my sister and I have in my uncle’s house, only to find that she was not there.” Miss Chapman then went on to outline the previous day’s misadventures, concluding with a description of their morning with Lady Agatha.

  “Miss Chapman, if you ever had any doubt about your reputation among the Ton, it is now made. Lady Agatha is a good friend of Lady Jersey, indeed of the elder Lady Jersey. Increasing her happiness will make you a favorite, even though I do not believe the lady herself goes about much these days.”

  “Indeed, no. She says that junketing about hurts her bones and that late-night parties are quite beyond her strength. She had retired to take a nap when I left, leaving my sister to entertain the cat. I do hope I made the right decision in leaving her there.”

  “I think you need have no fear of that. Nor was Mrs. Albright a bad choice for assistance. She supplies my house with serving people at all levels. Everyone wants servants supplied by Mrs. Albright. They are honest, properly ambitious, and inclined toward long-term employment.”

  “I’m glad to know that. The girls who served our tea were cheerful, helpful, and did not seem repressed in any way. She uses serving visitors as training?”

  “I believe so. It would certainly be in character for the lady I knew nine years ago.”

  “You knew her?”

  “I did. I was relieved to learn that she was well established.”

  “She apes quality well, but she didn’t start there,” Miss Chapman stated. It wasn’t quite a question.

  “No, she didn’t. But Cynthia was always Quality, in the best sense of the word. She also learned quickly.”

  “What was she, originally?

  “She was a dancer. The subject of my first attraction as a callow youth. I was quite relieved to learn that my father helped sponsor her, and that she married up. Mr. Albright was not a member of the gentry, but he did well enough in trade to leave her well provided for.”

  “She is a widow then?”

  “She is. She must make a profit from her small school, for his legacy would not be enough to fully provide all her needs. But I believe she is doing well. She provides the servitors for my household staff here in London.”

  Miss Chapman seemed to be making connections. “She is the widow of whom we spoke before!” she burst out.

  Benjamin smiled. “She is, indeed. I hope that does not trouble you. I do not normally have dealings with her directly. My butler or housekeeping hire most of the understaff.”

  “I own, I had not thought of things in that light. Of course you would not. No doubt you have many other things on your mind.”

  “Not so many as all that,” Benjamin assured her. “I do pay attention to what goes on in my house.”

  “What do you do when you are not busy paying attention to your house, My Lord?”

  “How neatly you phrased that, Miss Chapman. But it is a good question. When I was on the continent, I managed my father’s affairs abroad. I have had to hire a man to do that now, one that I hope will prove trustworthy. Here, I am still trying to get my feet under me and discover exactly what it was that my father was doing. But I’ll not be able to do that until I fulfill the conditions of his will.”

  “Which are?” she asked.

  “That I marry a young lady of the ton, or at least of the gentry. It is a line that is in the entailment, but I think my father was a little more specific. I believe he remembered my deep infatuation with Mrs. Albright.”

  “Do you still feel for her, My Lord?”

  “Not in the sense that you probably mean. I have fond memories of a callow youth and a beautiful young girl, but the woman she has become is a stranger to me.”

  Miss Chapman nodded and looked down at her hands for a moment. She seemed oddly relieved. “You asked me what I would do if I could do anything I wanted. What will you do, My Lord?”

  “I? Anything I wanted? I would put a manager in charge of the estates. I believe they have become shockingly run down. Then I would sail to Africa and check on my interests there. Once that is done, I would travel overland and take a good look at the pyramids, before going down to the end of the Red Sea and catching a ship to China. From China, I would go to Australia. I am told there are many strange creatures there. Once I have exhausted the hunting and gathered a great many trophies, I would travel to Canada, travel across it, and then sail back to England.”

  “You would not stay in any of these places?”

  “No, no. Foreign lands are great places to visit. I do not regret my time in Europe, but I would be quite glad to be back in England were the circumstances different.”

  “How likely is it that you will make this journey, Lord Newhorn?”

  “Highly unlikely, I should say. It would take a great deal of money. Money that I fear would be better spent at home, however much I might wish to circumnavigate the globe.”

  “It would be quite an adventure,” Miss Chapman remarked, almost wistfully, he thought.

  “It would. But also a risky one, especially since many parts of the journey would be through lands that are barely civilized, if at all. I have a responsibility to beget an heir before junketing about for my own pleasure.”

  “Ah, yes. The important reason for finding a wife.”

  “It does seem to be,” Benjamin said. “Since children adopted from outside the family line are not allowed to inherit, it is virtually imperative, since I have yet to learn of a gentleman who could give birth.”

  Miss Chapman had just taken a large drink of wine. As the last words left his mouth, she clapped a napkin to her face and made a strangled coughing noise. Benjamin was just about to offer assistance, when she put the napkin, now stained with wine, aside and withdrew a handkerchief from her reticule.

  “Oh, dear!” she said, wiping her streaming eyes with the handkerchief. “I am afraid I have ruined this napkin. But the thought . . . although I must say it might save a great deal of trouble in the world i
f gentlemen had that capability.”

  Now it was Benjamin’s turn to laugh. “No doubt it would. I am told in the world of natural science that there are species where the male takes care of the young.”

  “Sea horses, I think,” Miss Chapman said. “One of my cousins tried keeping some in a tank. But he had great difficulty keeping it warm.”

  “Perhaps he would have better luck with penguins,” Benjamin suggested. “They seem relatively untroubled by the cold. By all accounts, it is the males who protect the egg until it hatches.”

  “Eggs would be a convenient way of hatching children,” Miss Chapman observed.

  Benjamin laughed at that, and Miss Chapman laughed right along with him. She had a genuine laugh, not a titter or a giggle. It was a pleasant, mellow sound. Would she always laugh at his jokes? Was she truly amused, or was this part of her courtship strategy? No matter. It was pleasant, and it warmed him in places that he had not realized were cold and frozen.

  At length they both calmed down to mere chuckles. “Perhaps one day the learned physicians of the world will discover a way to make that happen,” Benjamin said.

  “Now that is a scary thought,” Miss Chapman replied. “It reminds me of that book from the publisher Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mayor & Jones where a patchwork man is brought to life.”

  “Would that be Frankenstein: A Modern Prometheus by Mrs. Shelley?” Benjamin enquired.

  “Yes! The very one. My sister and I had it from the Lending Library. We had to hide it from my uncle, who thought it would prostrate both of us.”

  “Did it?”

  “Oh, dear, no. Although I will admit that Vampyre, which was published in April by another one of Lord Byron’s friends, was even more terrifying.”

  “Why was it so much more frightening?”

  “Because, My Lord,” Miss Chapman said, raising her eyes to his, “It seems a metaphor for the power any man has to destroy the females of his company. It is said that Lord Byron, himself, is the model for the main character.”

  Benjamin regarded her soberly for a moment. “That is a sobering thought. I shall now have to read it so that I know how not to behave.”

  “Oh, my, Lord Newhorn, had I thought that you were molded of the same clay, we would not be sitting here, were there ever so many Jameses sitting sentinel on the path.”

  “I am glad to know that,” said Benjamin. Good lack. Is that how women see us? As predators? It is no wonder she is shy in company. I shall have to be very careful to guard my behavior around her lest she bolt. And I am beginning to think that would make me very sad.

  “Did it?”

  “Did it what?” she asked.

  “Prostrate either of you?”

  “Not a bit,” Miss Chapman asserted. “A nightmare or two, and a few days where we were both checking out the windows to see if there were crowds of peasants waving pitchforks, but nothing to signify.”

  And now I know that I must convince you that I am not a monster. I think I need to read those books.

  Chapter 23

  Penelope felt the change in Lord Newhorn’s attitude. “I am sorry, My Lord. I did not mean to imply that you would ever be less than courteous.”

  “No, no. I had simply never thought of relations between men and women in those terms. My mother would have been appalled had I behaved in an ungentlemanly manner toward any woman.”

  “You are a credit to your upbringing, My Lord.”

  “Thank you, Miss Chapman. I have not read Vampyre. Now, I believe I must do so, that I may understand your point of view.’

  “I believe the author is a learned physician and a particular friend of Lord Byron. Rumor has it that he and Mrs. Shelley, as well as her husband, were all at a party a couple of years ago.”

  “I had heard that also,” Lord Newhorn replied. “And that several works came out of the challenge Lord Byron extended to his guests.”

  “Truly?” Penelope felt a flutter of anticipation in her breast. “I must find out what they are. While perhaps not comfortable topics, they challenge the mind. I do believe that the best books make one think.”

  “Now that I can whole-heartedly agree with,” Lord Newhorn nodded. “It has been some months since I read Mrs. Shelley’s book. Who did you say was the author of Vampyre?”

  “A Doctor Polidori. If Miss Harrington is correct, and she very frequently is, he practiced medicine in Norwich for a little while, but is currently living in London and reading for the bar.”

  “Well! That’s an abrupt change of career,” Lord Newhorn observed.

  “Isn’t it? It does make one wonder what sort of physician he was. The scuttle butt has it that Mrs. Shelley determined upon the subject of her book after listening to Dr. Polidori and her husband, Mr. Shelley, discussing the galvanization of frogs and something about souls? I’m sorry, I don’t quite remember how it was all supposed to go.”

  “It is more than I recall. What is galvanization, anyway?”

  “I’m not quite sure. I think it had something to do with lightning, which is why the monster in Mrs. Shelley’s book is brought to life by Dr. Frankenstein attracting lighting to the corpse pieces he stitched together.”

  “That seems rather…indelicate,” Lord Newhorn observed, giving a little shudder.

  Penelope laughed. “That is exactly what Uncle Horace said. Only he said a great deal more besides, and threatened to make us read a collection of sermons instead. Which would have been a great bore.”

  “I’m glad to know that I am not the only gentleman to feel a bit squeamish about such things.”

  “Your sensibility does you credit, My Lord. I will admit that the thought of exhuming and cutting up human bodies does not seem like a very desirable thing to do. But I must own that it certainly lends an element of terror to the book.”

  “Quite so. Which, I believe, was the intent upon writing it.”

  “Perhaps. Mrs. Shelley has several things to say in it about who was the real monster. I think she was thinking about how it is very difficult to identify real life monsters until it is too late.”

  “Sad, but too frequently true, Miss Chapman. What other authors do you enjoy reading?”

  “My sister and I are currently reading Waverly. But I cannot but feel that the main character is something of a fribble.”

  “Oh? And what makes you say that?”

  “He believes one thing, then he believes another. It all seems very silly to me.”

  “Politics are frequently very silly, I fear. What books have you enjoyed, Miss Chapman? I might have occasion to travel and I could pick up something for you if I know what you like.”

  “Oh, Lord Newhorn. You need not go to such trouble.”

  “It would be no trouble at all, Miss Chapman. I would be glad to do it. But I would need to know what you like, so that I do not bring a book that you would not find pleasing.”

  “I do like a number of different things. Mrs. Shelley’s book, of course. I am also fond of Mr. Shelley’s poetry, although I cannot say that they are very practical. The books by that anonymous author, A. Lady. And the Mirror of Graces was amusing, especially if you don’t plan to follow its directions. Almost anything about herbs and natural sciences is quite fascinating. Should I go on, Lord Newhorn?”

  “That should be enough of a list for me to watch out for something similar. I shall try to find something that you would find amusing.”

  “And get a copy for yourself as well?”

  “Of course, so that we may both read it.”

  “That would be quite amenable,” Penelope said. “I think I should enjoy it.”

  “Excellent!” said Lord Newhorn. “The only thing that could perhaps be better would be to explore book selections together.”

  Penelope felt herself blush, then she felt her heart sink to her toes. How can I let this go on? When he finally learns of the deception, he will hate me for it. I will have to tell him soon, but not quite yet. This is too pleasant.

  While th
ey talked, the shadows had crept long across the grass. “Goodness!” Penelope said. “Look how late it is. I should be getting back.”

  “So should I,” Lord Newhorn admitted. “Can we do this again? I find it very pleasant to be able to chat without having to worry about others listening in.”

  “It is refreshing, isn’t it? I’m afraid our conversation today might not have been considered quite proper for drawing rooms.”

  “Whatever would have given you that idea?”

  “Oh, galvanized frogs and body parts. Especially body parts.” Miss Chapman rose and shook out her skirts. “But I do so enjoy being able to talk about books, and not flirting in the silly way that is supposed to happen in ball rooms and drawing rooms.”