by Sue Barr
“Let me escort you inside. I insist on you buying anything you want.”
“We cannot infringe upon you, Lord Kerr.” Kitty protested. “You are neither a brother, nor other relation to us. It would seem most improper.”
“Miss Catherine. Consider this as recompense for nearly killing you with my horse. In fact, I insist.” He placed her gloved hand on his arm and proceeded to escort her and Mary into the shop. “One book for each of you.”
At first all Kitty and Mary could do was stand in awe. The scent of old leather and dusty pages reminded Kitty of her father’s book room. How he would love to wander the aisles and peruse the titles. She laughed softly. They’d never see their father at all if they brought him here.
“Is there anything special you would like, Miss Catherine?”
She gave a start when Lord George appeared by her side. Engrossed with the plethora of books around her, she’d almost forgotten about him. She cut a glance at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet, strangely pleased to find him close, his eyes twinkling as though he knew what a treat this was. His dimple appeared again as he smiled down at her. Really, he smiled too much. It was hard to read his character when he always appeared so congenial, much like Charles, Jane’s new husband.
“Oh no. I do not want anything for myself.”
“But, I insist. You cannot leave the store without a book in your hand.”
Kitty frowned. It was most improper for Lord George to purchase a book for an unmarried woman who was not family. She dared to look at him again and laughed softly.
Lord George was giving her a most mournful look, almost pleading.
“You look like one of Papa’s hounds when they want the juiciest bone to chew.”
“Are you saying I look like a dog?” Lord George stepped back in mock horror and Kitty laughed out loud when he clutched his heart.
“Stop. It is most unladylike to laugh in a bookstore.” She covered her mouth with her hand and turned to hide her smile.
“I am most wounded. I shall have to tell your father how you cut me through with your cruel words.”
“Papa would applaud my behavior. He is a great study of character and loves all things absurd.” Kitty sniffed and tilted her nose in a teasing manner. “No, if you truly wish to make me pay for bad behavior, you must tell Mama. She would have the appropriate fits and vapors to satisfy your ungentlemanlike behavior.”
Lord George drew near to her again and leaned in. “Very well, Miss Catherine,” he whispered in her ear, “You give me no choice. I ride to Longbourn tonight. What say you now?”
“You do that, Lord George.” She moved down the aisle, away from his disturbing presence. “Please give my parents my warmest regard.”
She met up with Mary who was perusing a slim volume of poems. Mary glanced past her shoulder, back to the area where she’d left Lord George standing.
“What did you say to Lord Kerr?” Mary whispered and turned her attention back to the book.
“Nothing much, really. He was being a pest.” She moved closer to Mary and whispered, “Why do you ask? What is he doing now?”
“I refuse to be drawn into childish parlor games being played out in a public venue.” At Kitty’s plea of, ‘Mary!’, she relented. “He watched you walk away with a look of admiration. Whatever you said pleased him.”
“May I help you ladies find a particular book?”
The clerk had approached them and Mary answered with a polite smile. “Yes, please. I am looking for the novel, Sense and Sensibility, written by A Lady.”
“I know exactly which book you speak of.” With a flourish of his arm, he bade Kitty and Mary to follow him.
Lord George approached again.
“Miss Catherine, are you sure I cannot entice you to buy something for yourself?”
“No, thank you.” She paused as an idea entered her mind. “Could I purchase something for my father? There is a book he has always wanted. He misses our sister Elizabeth so much, this might cheer him up.”
“Most assuredly. I think that is a wonderful idea.”
Kitty hurried to the counter, near the front of the store.
“Have you decided which book you would like, Miss?” the clerk queried.
“Yes. Do you have any first editions of Robinson Crusoe?”
“I might have one copy in the back.” He peered over the rim of his spectacles at her. “The weather has been fine this year.”
“If you were a duck, perhaps, but I prefer long sun-filled days.” Kitty bestowed a small smile upon the clerk, very aware Lord George lurked a few bookshelves away. “When I anticipate the warm months approaching I think of Shakespeare, who wrote, ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’
Would Lord George be impressed by her knowledge of the bard’s work? She cast a furtive glance at him and wondered at the dark scowl creasing his forehead. Stupid, stupid pride. What had she been thinking? She faced the clerk and clasped her shaking hands.
The clerk excused himself and disappeared behind a curtain. Within a few minutes he returned with a leather-bound edition of Robinson Crusoe. He began to wrap the book in plain brown paper while Mary came alongside and placed a few books on the counter.
“I see you have found some more novels. Will they fill the ‘hidden depths’ of your soul, dear sister?” Kitty teased, referencing the hollowed-out tome where Mary hid her books.
“There is so much to choose from, I can scarce bring myself to leave.” Mary graced her with a wide smile and opened her reticule in preparation to pay for her books. Kitty knew she’d earmarked this money for some new music sheets and felt a pang of regret at her sister having to choose one enjoyment over another. However, this wasn’t the first time a Bennet girl had sacrificed because of no money. With a mother who didn’t budget and always had a thin purse, they’d all, with the exception of Lydia, learned to economize.
She reached for her own reticule, determined to give Mary the money she’d won from Papa when Lord George stepped forward.
“Put your money away, Miss Bennet. Remember, I promised to pay for your purchases in recompense for my reckless behavior.” He glanced at the clerk and asked in what Kitty thought was a somewhat foppish voice. “How much for these young lady’s books?”
The clerk told him the amount and her stomach plummeted.
“Sir, I cannot have you spend such a large amount on my sister and me. This is beyond the pale.”
“Nonsense. I insist.” Lord George pulled out some bank notes and with a flourish counted off three. “There you are my good man. Can you please wrap up the other young lady’s books as well?”
While he tucked the remaining bank notes into his coat pocket, the clerk wrapped up Mary’s books. Within minutes the three of them were back on the street and Lord George returned to his normal, cheerful self.
“Now, I insist on treating you all to an iced treat at Gunter’s.”
He took each of them by the arm and strolled back toward the main road, stopping at a lively shop where customers sat at small tables, enjoying a multitude of treats. Kitty wondered why he had portrayed himself in such a silly manner inside the store. Instinctively she knew he’d behaved in that way so the clerk’s attention would be drawn to him and not her and Mary. Was that because he was ashamed of them?
Her head began to ache from the all the questions running around in her mind. Lord George was anything but dull. One minute flirtatious, the next scowling and the next a foppish fool. What was he like when he was alone and there was no one around to entertain? She shook her head. She’d never know. That privilege would belong to some other lady.
***
While Catherine and Miss Bennet enjoyed their iced treat, George analyzed the incident at the bookstore. Last night, prior to attending Lady Dalrymple’s ball, he’d spoken with his man Henry, who’d been tasked with keeping an eye on Stanhope while George was out of town. Henry informed him that Stanhope attended this particular bookstore several times during
the week, always leaving with a scowl upon his face.
Curious to the nature of Stanhope’s activities, George escorted the Miss Bennet’s there in hopes of uncovering something, without even knowing what exactly to look for. The exchange which transpired between Miss Catherine and the clerk came as a complete surprise. Having been in covert operations for over five years, he immediately recognized the gambit when the clerk asked Catherine about the weather.
If she answered correctly, he would pass information to her via the book. If incorrect, she would leave the store none the wiser, thinking there were no first edition books of Robinson Crusoe at this particular shop.
Obviously, quoting Shakespeare was the appropriate response. He already knew the Viscount was a traitor to England, but this new piece of evidence might lead him to Stanhope’s contact in France, or at least give him a working knowledge of how he passed information. When Stanhope realized someone other than himself was in possession of his book, he’d be relentless in his pursuit. It was imperative he re-visit Lord Grayson and fill him in on what he’d learned today.
While the Misses Bennet enjoyed their ices, he took time to appraise them both. Although in a much lighter mood than he’d observed at Longbourn, Miss Bennet continued to be more reserved than her sister. Her eyes remained lowered and she didn’t attempt to look around and watch the other patrons. Catherine on the other hand continually twisted in her seat. She had an eye for fashion and when a lady went by wearing an outrageous hat, her eyes lit up and she raised a gloved hand to hide a smile. She then leaned toward Miss Bennet and soon her sister’s eye followed the bobbing ostrich feather which adorned the monstrous bonnet.
“Who is wearing who?” she asked Catherine.
That was when he knew Miss Mary Bennet had a hidden intelligence and was not the quiet mouse everyone assumed. Catherine smothered a laugh and glanced in his direction. Her bright eyes danced with amusement and she tried valiantly to maintain calm and composure, but her lips kept twitching.
It was then the hat changed direction, came into the shop and toward their table. The two girls’ eyes widened in horror when they realized the woman was almost upon them. Miss Bennet and Catherine exchanged glances, most likely fearing the woman heard Miss Bennet’s comment. He noted they held hands beneath the table and was warmed by their act of solidarity.
He didn’t fear for the Bennet sisters as he knew to whom the hat belonged – Evangeline in all her glory – accompanied by her companion, Miss Bledsoe. He was a bit surprised to see the young woman as George could not recall when, if ever, he’d seen her outside of Evangeline’s home.
George stood, in anticipation of introducing the Countess and her companion to the two young ladies from Hertfordshire. However, neither of them anticipated Catherine’s reaction, who rose to her feet and smiled at Miss Bledsoe walking a few paces behind Evangeline.
“Lady Harriet!” she exclaimed.
All color fled from Miss Bledsoe’s face and she stopped cold in her tracks. Names, faces and information George had gleaned over the past week began to click into place.
“Lord George.” Evangeline cried out and surged forward, concealing her companion who turned and fled the shop. “I am pleased to see you.”
Catherine’s gaze rose upward to the bobbing ostrich feather. Familiar with Evangeline’s foibles and eccentricities, he knew beyond a shadow of doubt her goal was to divert Catherine’s attention from Miss Bledsoe to herself. He steeled himself to remain calm at her subterfuge as Evangeline would know immediately if something was amiss, but his pulse raced and his thoughts shot off like a startled horse.
Had Catherine inadvertently stumbled upon a connection between Stanhope and the botched burglary? Everything in him clamored to follow Miss Bledsoe as she slipped across the street and melted into the shadows between shops. Instead he gave Evangeline a small bow of his head.
“May I introduce Miss Bennet and Miss Catherine Bennet of Longbourn. And this is my good friend, Lady Evangeline Cavendish, Countess of Anstruther.”
Miss Bennet gave a polite nod.
“Good afternoon, Countess.” Catherine said and performed a quick curtsy. “I apologize for my atrocious manners. For a brief moment I thought your companion was a childhood friend, Lady Harriet Jacobson. Someone I have not seen in ten years.”
“Impossible. Miss Bledsoe has been my companion for over five years,” Evangeline pronounced in a firm voice. “I know everything there is about her background and heritage. However, everyone has a doppelganger, and she must be your friend’s.”
Evangeline turned her attention back to George, all charm and good humor, but he knew Catherine’s observation had rattled her. He pulled out the remaining chair and the Countess sat down with a much grace. Catherine seated herself at a much slower pace, her countenance still revealing confusion.
“Lord George, have you spoken with our mutual acquaintance and been successful in your…” She paused for a dramatic moment, fluttering her hand back and forth in front of her face as though searching for the word. “Ah, yes. Success in you quest?”
George did not answer right away. Several avenues of thought raced through his brain as he continued to piece together disjointed information and scenes. The peculiar sense that he’d recognized Stanhope’s daughter from the miniature became clear. One, she’d been considerably younger and didn’t have her disfiguring scar at the time the portrait had been painted, and two, no one expected to find a Viscount’s only daughter employed as a paid companion to the eccentric Countess of Anstruther.
More disturbing thoughts filled him with unease. Had Evangeline killed the valet in order to silence him? Was she a double agent, equally exposing English secrets to France, to the point of jeopardizing the safety of her own husband? Was Stanhope’s daughter the hidden connection? Even more disconcerting was the fact that Miss Catherine Bennet knew Miss Bledsoe, or rather, Lady Harriet by sight.
As much as he’d like to analyze all aspects of what just occurred, this was neither the time nor place. His only solution was to slip into the persona of a carefree man in the delightful company of three ladies. However, until he knew exactly where Evangeline fit into all of this, and because of the presence of two young ladies from Hertfordshire, he’d couch his replies in general terms. As far as he knew, Evangeline had no knowledge of his trip to Cambridgeshire.
“My quest never bore fruit, I’m afraid. Instead, I traveled to Cambridgeshire, which has been sadly neglected and have begun making amends to the staff by hiring a new housekeeper. I’m sure she shall have Keswick Manor up and running within the month.”
Evangeline tinkled out a light laugh. “Lord George, I cannot imagine you living the life of a country gentleman. However, you have surprised me more than once in all the years we have known each other.”
“How long have you known each other, Countess Anstruther?”
Miss Bennet’s quiet voice carried over the din in the shop. Evangeline twisted a bit on her chair and smiled at her.
“I have known Lord George for many years but we only recently reconnected when I returned to England from the Continent at one of Lady Miranda Blake’s afternoon soirees. He was there with his lovely mother, the Dowager Duchess, and quickly became a friendly face in the crowd.”
“How frightening that must have been, to be on the Continent during these dangerous times.” Catherine clasped Mary’s hand again. “You are so brave.”
Evangeline reached out and placed her gloved hand over the two sister’s hands.
“We must pray hard for England’s shores to remain safe. I have many friends who are still trapped in France and until that little man is removed, I will have no rest.” She released their hands and dug out a lacy handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed gently around her eyes. Once they were dried she rose to her feet and George quickly stood.
“Enough tears over my heartache. No more.” She tucked the handkerchief back into her bag and faced him. “I have many more engagements before th
e day ends. It was lovely to meet such fine young ladies from Hertfordshire, and also to see you again, Lord George.”
He took her hand and bowed low. Upon him releasing her fingers, she turned and with a lilting ‘Good day’, exited the shop. He watched her cross the street toward a carriage stopped in front of a milliner’s shop. Miss Bledsoe slipped out of the alleyway and quickly ascended into its interior after Evangeline.
It was only after he dropped off the Bennet sisters at their Aunt and Uncle’s home in Cheapside and was alone in his carriage that he opened the note Evangeline pressed into his hand before taking her leave.
Chapter Ten
“Who is Lady Harriet?” Mary asked once she and Kitty returned to their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner’s home and were alone in Kitty’s room.
“Lady Harriet is the only daughter of Viscount Stanhope.”
“Are you positive it was her? It must have been over ten years since you visited with Papa. I remember as it was the year Lydia had those dreadful spots and fever and Mama insisted he take you with him.”
“It was ten years ago, and yes, the Countess’ maid is Lady Harriet. Although much altered, I would recognize those green eyes anywhere, plus she has a scar at the top of her lip. I remember it being quite ugly and raw when I last saw her.” Kitty shuddered at the memory and sat on the edge of her bed. “Why would she pretend to be a companion? She is an English lady, born and bred and her family is not destitute. Her father is very much alive.”
“She must have her reasons and it is not our secret to give away.”
“Oh, Mary, I am tired of keeping so many secrets.”
“Other than Lydia’s previous behavior and Janes’ suspected pregnancy, what secrets do you harbor, Kitty?”
Ice cold fear sliced through Kitty’s veins. How could she have slipped up like that? No one, other than Papa knew of her secret. Seeing Lady Harriet brought back a lot of memories she’d rather not dwell upon. Memories which would awaken her in the night and she’d not experienced those night horrors in many years.
