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

by Patricia Haverton

  “It should not take you too long. I do need it by tomorrow, and it needs to be strictly confidential, if you take my meaning.”

  “I understand,” Alfred said woodenly. Clearly, something was not quite right here.

  “Just one moment,” Robert said. He went back into his office, and brought out a leather folder. “You will find the documents in here. Make three copies and place all of them back into this folder when you are finished. Don’t show them to anyone! This is a big assignment for me, and I don’t want to make a mull of it.”

  “One wonders, then,” Alfred said slowly, “why you do not do your own copying.”

  “Because I have an assignation with a sweet little thing in Covent Garden. One should never keep a ‘lady’ waiting. Someone else might snatch her up.”

  “Very well. Be it far from me to keep you from important business,” Alfred accepted the folder. He went on up the stairs, tucked the folder under the copying he was doing for his father, and thought no more of it until his stomach told him that it was time for a lunch break.

  He quickly ate his bread and cheese, washing it down with a bottle of tepid tea. It occurred to him, as he ate his frugal repast, that Robert had not offered to pay him for the copying. In typical Robert fashion he had simply threatened, and made the assumption that his status as senior clerk would make sure the threat would stick.

  When he had finished the last crumbs and last drop of tea, he put his lunch satchel away. He could have purchased a better luncheon. His stipend as clerk was enough for him to maintain a small room away from home, buy food, and keep his wardrobe in good order. He had good expectations of a better income later on, but he could sacrifice a bit now, he thought, because it allowed him to put a little aside each week toward renting a small apartment or perhaps even a cottage.

  Edith. His thoughts drifted toward the lady of his dreams. She was, he knew, more than a little above his touch, but . . .

  He shook himself. Enough of that. The sooner he got Robert’s mess out of his hair, the sooner he could go on with the copying for his father and the other senior partners.

  He opened the leather folder, and started reading in preparation for the copying. He had not read more than three lines before his mouth dropped open and his eyes popped wide. No wonder Bobby hadn’t wanted this noised about. It wasn’t quite treason, but it certainly was shady business. Not the proper way for a gentleman to conduct himself at all. More than that, it had bearing on that peer who had recently returned to England, the one who was courting the Chapman sister that he thought was Edith.

  No, best not to take this to his father who had been closeted with the other senior partners all day. But he needed to alert Edith and her sister right away. If either of them agreed to wed Steelfrost, the cat would be among the pigeons for sure! If he was reading this contract rightly, it would place Lord Newhorn in a vulnerable position, especially if Edith were to wed him, and Penelope to inherit as Steelfrost’s wife.

  Why Steelfrost would want to set up such an elaborate scheme, he had no idea. But he did know that if certain things came to pass, at least two peers and possibly more would tumble like a house of cards. Because there was a great deal more to this contract than two marriages and an inheritance, although those lay at the heart of the matter.

  Alfred closed his eyes for a moment, replaying his father’s words in his head as the elder Mr. Harrington had asked him if he would defend the lady, even if he could not have her. “Lord Newhorn is a gentleman,” he whispered to himself, “but if Steelfrost carries out his plan, neither Edith or Penelope will be safe. For it is as certain as taxes that he does run with the Prince’s cronies.”

  He thrust the incriminating document into his carrying satchel next to his lunch wallet, and grabbed his hat. At the exit to the building, he stopped to speak to the doddering doorkeeper. “I must go out on urgent client business,” he said to the old fellow.”

  The oldster opened his eyes, and peered at Alfred. “Business? Since when do copyboys have clients?”

  “It’s an errand. For…for my father.” It would be if Mr. Harrington knew about it. And he is going to know about it as soon as I am able to convey it to him. But first, I must let Edith and Penelope know what is going on.

  As the doorman looked at him, Alfred colored to the edges of his very fair hair. “Oh, like that, is it?” The old fellow gave him a knowing wink. “You’d best get a move on before the senior partners notice that all the juniors are junketing about the city.”

  Oh, Lord. That’s right. Robert is on an errand to Covent Garden. “Thank you, sir,” Alfred said, although he knew that the fellow rated no better than “father” or “brother” as an honorific. He then pressed a penny into the man’s hand. “Thank you kindly for making note of our absence.”

  “Heh, heh! Have fun, sonny.” He winked knowingly at Alfred and waved him out of sight.

  Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! Oh, keeper of fools and errant clerks. Don’t let my father notice until I can explain. Please let Edith and Penelope Chapman be at home, for I need to see them both right away.

  Chapter 40

  As soon as Penelope closed the door to the tea-room, Edith threw herself down on the sofa, and had a weeping fit that was very close to strong hysterics. Marpole offered tea, wine, and then brandy, all to no avail. After a couple of minutes, he sent James to obtain Miss Penelope or Stella.

  Stella came rushing down the stairs. “Miss Penelope has gone out. What is the matter?”

  “It is Miss Edith, Stella. She is crying and flailing around such as I’ve never seen her before. She keeps saying, ‘All my fault! My fault!’ and won’t offer a word of explanation.”

  Stella hastened into the little parlor where Edith was seated on the sofa, crying in great choking, gasping sobs. “Edith!” she said sharply. “You will stop that behavior right this minute.”

  Edith gulped down a sob, and turned a tear-stained face up to Stella. “Oh, Stella!” she wailed. “Penny has gone out to do something dreadful! I just know she has, and it is all my fault.”

  “Edith,” Stella said firmly, “No one can make any headway toward fixing the problem if you do not settle down and tell us what has happened.”

  “Oh, I cannot. I simply cannot! It is too dreadful, and far too embarrassing. Oh, Penny, if something has happened to you, I cannot bear it.” She clutched at her hair, and began to wail and weep again.

  She was making such a din that at first no one could hear the doorknocker, even though it was quite a fine one and made a thunderous peal throughout the house. At the third or fourth knock, Marpole shuffled his ponderous way down to the door. He opened it to behold a broad-shouldered young man wearing the garb of a law clerk and clutching a leather valise.

  “Please,” he said, “I need to speak to Edith or Penelope Chapman or both of them right away.”

  “Miss Penelope is out, and Miss Edith is indisposed. May I take a message?”

  “Yes, please do. Here is my card. Tell Miss Edith that Alfred is here to see her, and that it is a matter of some urgency. I’ll wait.”

  “Very well,” Marpole said. “Wait right there on the mat, and do not move from that spot. Jace, please keep an eye on him.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Marpole,” said the lanky footman who stood by the door.

  Marpole shuffled away as fast as his gouty old feet would carry him. “There’s a gentleman at the door to see you, Miss Edith,” Marpole said.

  “Oh, no, I cannot see anyone. I am distraught. I am dishabille. Please, Marpole, send him away. I have no heart for gentleman callers just now.” She took a deep breath, preparatory to beginning to sob again.

  “He sent up his card, and said that he would wait,” Marpole said, tendering the bit of pasteboard.

  Edith pushed her disheveled hair out of her face, and peered at the card. “Freddy? It’s Freddy? Why didn’t you say so! Oh, he is just the person I want. He will know precisely what to do.” She sniffled and sat up. “Oh, Stella, please
help. Please put me in order before he comes in. He mustn’t see me like this.”

  While Marpole could not think what a law clerk would know about how to fix whatever spat had taken place between the sisters, he highly favored anyone who, at that moment, could bring Miss Edith to order. Miss Penelope was very good at it, but if she had gone off in high dudgeon, there was no telling when she would be back. Hopefully, she had the good sense to take James with her.

  Marpole shuffled his way ponderously back down the stairs toward where Alfred stood on the mat. At the top of the stair, his gouty foot threatened to give way, so he intoned from there, “Miss Edith will see you. Jace will show you the way.” Marpole then made his way to the occasional chair that stood against the wall, overlooking the balcony and the foyer below.

  Jace rose to the occasion splendidly. “I’ll show you the way, sir . . .”

  “Mr.,” Alfred corrected. “Mr. Alfred Harrington. It is extremely important that I see Edith or her sister right away.”

  Jace led the way to the little parlor where Edith was trying to look decorous and welcoming, in spite of having a very pink nose, and being generally flushed from crying. Stella had managed to do a creditable job of tidying up her hair, and reorganizing her costume into some semblance of dignity.

  It was immediately clear to all the onlookers that young Mr. Harrington saw through her dissembling right away. “Edith!” he cried, going to her straightaway, “Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?”

  “Oh, Alfred! It is simply too dreadful,” she whimpered, extending her hand to him. “Lord Steelfrost came and declared for Penelope. She was so angry. She sent him away and told him she would give him an answer in two days’ time.”

  Steelfrost! Alfred felt his heart lurch as if it had skipped a beat. “Was that all of it, Edith?” Alfred went down on one knee before her, holding her hand. It wasn’t precisely proper, but under the circumstances, propriety could go hang.

  Edith sniffled and said, “No, oh, no that wasn’t all. Lord Newhorn had been here before, and Penelope told him…told him something he didn’t like. And when Lord Steelfrost came, he said I’d better marry Lord Newhorn. Only, Freddy, I don’t wish to marry Lord Newhorn. I think that he and Penny are in love with each other, but I asked Penny to …. to… do something, and now Lord Newhorn is angry with both of us.” And Edith began to cry again.

  “Steady now, m’lady,” Alfred said. “Steady now, that’s why I’m here. I’ve got something that will set all to rights, you just see if it doesn’t. But you’ve got to stop crying, love, and we need to find Miss Penelope before she does something she will regret later.”

  “You do? Oh, Freddy, you are so wonderful! I knew that if we could just find you, that you would make everything all right because you are so incredibly intelligent and you know everything about laws and such.” She clasped his hand with both of hers.

  “Now, that might be coming on too strong, Edith. But you’ve got to mop up and stop acting like a watering pot. Whatever will your people think? I’m nowhere near being able to ask for your hand, so you’ve got to be strong until we can make things right.”

  “All right, I will, Freddy. Just for you,” Edith said, straightening up and accepting the snowy white handkerchief he handed her.

  Marpole had managed to make it to the door just in time to witness this miracle. He traded looks with Stella, who was looking on as if she had just seen a snake walk on water, such was the mixture of disbelief and horror on her face.

  “Miss Edith,” she said, “This is not at all seemly.”

  “There, now, you see?” Alfred said. “You are upsetting your maid.” Then he looked up at Stella, “Never fear, Ma’am. I hold her in far too high a regard to do anything to hurt her in any way. But truly, I need to speak with Miss Penelope. None of this is going to make sense until I can put all the bits together, and I think that she is a vital part of it.”

  Edith sniffled a little, and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “She said she was going to go talk to Lady Agatha.”

  “Excellent!” Alfred said. “It will not be difficult to retrieve her from there. Is there someone you can send?”

  “James,” Stella said. “I saw him down in the kitchen fussin’ and frettin’ cause she didn’t wait for him, but took off on her own.”

  Chapter 41

  Benjamin walked slowly toward Lady Agatha’s stately home. The dowager lived in what had once been a generously sized gatehouse. It had been years since he had been there, and he really should have come to pay his respects sooner. He had been here often with his mother when all of them were younger. He remembered being somewhat in awe of the lady.

  The lawn and exterior of the house were neatly kept, if not spectacular. As he approached the tidy fence around the lawn, a grounds keeper stood up from where he was weeding the beds. “G’day to you,” he said, “are you lost?”

  “No, no, I used to come here long ago, when I was younger. Lady Agatha and my mother were friends. I have come to pay my respects, if she is at home to visitors today.”

  “If you will step up on the veranda, I will check. Who should I say is calling?”

  Benjamin pulled a card from his case. “Tell her that little Benny would like to come play with her kitties,” he said. “She always had cats when I was younger, and I always spent time with them. I’m more of a dog man, but she did have a wonderful way with the little beasts.”

  “If you don’t mind to wait here, My Lord,” the groundskeeper said. “She has good days and bad days. I’ll just see if she’s up to receiving.”

  “Of course. I will be happy to wait.”

  Benjamin wasn’t all that happy to be kept cooling his heels on the veranda, but in all fairness it had been more than a decade since he had been there last. Fortunately, his patience was rewarded, and a truly venerable butler came to show him in.

  “She’s havin’ a good day,” that worthy confided. “It was a stroke of genius to send in her pet name for you. She remembers how you were always good with her kitties.”

  “Does she still have cats?” Benjamin asked.

  “Just one. Her beloved old moggy passed on, and three lovely young ladies brought her a kitten they had rescued. It seems that neither family was very accepting of cats, so they brought the kitten here. Seems like it was the idea of one young fella, Alfred Harrington by name.”

  “Lady Agatha is well?”

  “Most days. She’s a might forgetful, but that little monster perked her right up. Now, right through here, My Lord. Lady Agatha, here is your Benny, all grown up.”

  “Why so he should be. I’m not in my dotage, you know. Well, perhaps I am, but I know very well that kittens grow up to be cats, and little boys become grown gentlemen. Come in, come in, and sit on the stool beside me as you used to do.”

  Benjamin came in, but after one look at the rickety old stool, he went down on one knee before Lady Agatha. “How good it is to see you, Lady Agatha.”

  “And to see you, Lord Newhorn. Oh, do not look so surprised, dear boy. You’ve made quite a stir coming back as you have. I’m just sorry it could not have been better circumstances. Your dear mother had been to see me just shortly before they took that ill-fated sleigh ride. Sleigh riding in early May! Whatever is the world coming to?”

  “It was very cold. I believe they were taking advantage of the last snow before it melted completely away.”

  “Dear, dear,” the elderly lady clucked. “Such a shame. But I am still very glad to see you looking so well. Come, I can see that you are much too tall for the stool. Please, someone set a chair for Lord Newhorn.”

  “I can bring one over for myself,” he said. “And I can put it back when I am done. There is no need to trouble your staff.”

  Benjamin was just placing a chair when the butler came in.

  “Mr. Alfred Harrington to see you, Lady Agatha. He says he is looking for Miss Penelope.”

  “Penelope? Is she supposed to be here?”

&
nbsp; “Not that I know of. But she might have planned to come calling. I’ll bring him in.”

  The butler showed a young gentleman into the room.

  “Greetings, Alfred. Come in, sit down and make yourself at home. Do you know Lord Newhorn?”

  “I’ve heard of him,” the young clerk. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, My Lord.”

  “And I yours. Who might you be, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

  “Alfred Harrington, My Lord.”

  “Can’t say that I have heard of you.”

  “There, now, Benny, don’t have such a stiff neck. He’s my solicitor’s youngest son, bent on earning his own knighthood, aren’t you Freddy? And I just told you about him, for it was his idea for the young ladies to bring to me the kitten.”