The Wily Wastrel

by April Kihlstrom

  Indeed, the morning felt very much like a reenactment of the day before. Even the arrival of Emily seemed to prove it was so. She had to blink fiercely to contain the distress she felt at the sight of her new friend.

  “Are you abandoned again as well, this morning?” Juliet asked, unable to keep the bitterness entirely out of her voice.

  Emily tilted her head to one side. She glanced around to be certain that there were no servants about before she answered.

  “You must understand that my husband and yours and their brother Harry are remarkably close. I fear it will always be so. It is not that they do not care about us, but that they are sworn to one another whenever there is a need. And apparently there is a need. No doubt Philip will tell me in time what it is. Meanwhile, it gives us the chance to be alone together again and for me to share with you one of the books I found in Philip’s library. It is the oddest thing! There are pictures and such bound between the pages of otherwise entirely unexceptionable text.”

  Her worst fears momentarily forgotten, Juliet’s interest was caught and she leaned forward to see. As they turned the pages of the book Emily had brought, she shyly told Emily what she had attempted.

  “And I was certain he liked it,” Juliet said, a hint of desperation in her voice. “But still he was gone when I woke and he did not trouble to leave me word of when he would be back.”

  Emily patted her hand soothingly. “He is a man and men are, in general, remarkably thoughtless about such things. I daresay he has no notion you are even distressed. From what you have told me, he no doubt believes you are glad for the time to yourself.”

  “Well, I am not glad for it!” Juliet countered with patent annoyance.

  “Of course not,” Emily agreed, not troubling to hide her amusement. “I only meant that it is what he is likely to believe. He is, after all, a man.”

  That mollified Juliet a trifle. And besides, the pictures in the books were absolutely fascinating. At one point she and Emily turned the book first sideways and then the other way again. Then they looked at one another.

  “Do you really think such a position is possible?” Emily asked doubtfully.

  “I don’t know,” Juliet countered, “but wouldn’t it be interesting to try and find out?”

  That provoked such gales of laughter between the two ladies that Juliet’s maid nervously tapped on the door and then poked her head in to ask if there was anything her mistress required.

  Which only set off fresh gales of laughter and a fear, on Margaret’s part, that her mistress was in a fair way to losing her mind. And if she did, Margaret thought angrily, it would all be the master’s fault and serve him right for leaving her poor mistress alone like this!

  ———

  The Langford brothers, Harry and James, were bent over sketches that James was making. They were in Philip’s study, but he wasn’t there. He had a case before the bench today and Sir Thomas was hearing another.

  “I think I had best take you to my workshop,” James said at last. “It will be easier if I show you some of the lenses and lights I have been experimenting with, and by the time we return, Philip may be here and can tell us if he has spoken with his wife.”

  Harry nodded. “Excellent notion. Besides, I have long been curious to see this mysterious workshop of yours. Ever since Philip told me it existed.”

  Their plans were forestalled, however, by the sudden arrival of Lord Darton.

  “George!” both brothers said, with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

  “Harry. James. What the devil are you doing here? I came to see Philip and am told he is before the bar today and that the two of you are here. Why Philip must needs be a barrister is beyond me and that he actually wishes to work at the profession is completely absurd. I wish the two of you would tell him so! At least the two of you are gentlemen though, James, I wish you would gamble a trifle less and, Harry, I wish your profession less hazardous.”

  James and Harry looked at one another and schooled their expressions to innocence.

  “Yes, George,” they said meekly.

  But Lord Darton was not deceived. He snorted. “Neither of you shows the least respect toward me, even though I am head of the family. Very well, if Philip is not here, I shall have to come back later.”

  “Perhaps one of us could be of help?” James suggested.

  “No, no. It is merely some absurd rumor I heard that his wife is writing for a newspaper. Nonsense, of course! Still, I thought I ought to warn him.”

  “But why should anyone think she is?” James protested, careful not to catch Harry’s eye.

  George sighed. “It seems someone has let slip that a female is writing for one of the papers, and since of late there have been some attacks on institutions Philip’s wife has been known to ring a peal about, she is suspect. Some of the words, it is said, sound remarkably like hers.”

  “Coincidence?” James suggested.

  “No doubt,” Darton agreed, “but a problem all the same. These rumors must be stopped!”

  “You are quite right,” Harry said soothingly. “When we see Philip we’ll tell him about this calumny. You’re quite right that he ought to know and ought to take steps to nip the rumor in the bud.”

  Darton looked at his younger brother with some surprise. “That’s very handsome of you, Harry. Very handsome indeed. Good. Well, then, I shall be going. Mind you don’t forget to tell him.”

  “We won’t!” Harry said fervently.

  When they were alone again, James eyed his brother and the major answered his unspoken question. “Of course we don’t want anyone to know Emily is writing for the paper. We don’t want anyone to make that sort of connection. Particularly not if she is going to be putting information into her writing for us.”

  “But how do we counter the rumors?” James asked.

  “I don’t know,” Harry replied. “But one way or another we must.”

  “Perhaps we should go and find Philip?” James suggested. “And tell him what George has said.’”

  Harry shook his head. “No, we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves in such a way. Time enough to tell him tonight, if he has not heard by then. In the mean time, why don’t you show me your workshop and the experiments you have been doing?”

  Nothing could have appealed to James more, and within minutes, they were on their way.

  ———

  Sir Thomas frowned, causing the counsel pleading the case before him to quake. Had he somehow offended the judge? Made a fatal error in his presentation?

  But Sir Thomas’s frown had nothing to do with the case in hand. Instead he was thinking of Frederick Baines again. There would be no better person to help with Major Langford’s project. If he would come. Sir Thomas wished it had been possible to convey more of the urgency of the matter in his letter and he found himself rewriting the blasted thing in his mind.

  “M’lud?”

  That brought Sir Thomas back to himself with a start. He must not let his attention wander! This was, as they all were, a case he took seriously. He made the counsel repeat his last few statements and then the case continued as it should. Despite his momentary lapse, Sir Thomas listened and dispensed justice with his usual care.

  Emily stared at Juliet’s wardrobe. “I think,” she said quietly, “I should take you shopping.”

  “We did remove many of the bows and ruffles and furbelows,” Juliet said timidly.

  “And that is a great improvement,” Emily agreed. “But the colors are still insipid. You would do better with bolder shades and with somewhat different lines in the cut of your clothes. I know a lady. She is not one of the popular modistes, but she is working to support herself and she has a wonderful eye. What do you think? Are you willing to let her try?”

  Juliet smiled and gave a great sigh of relief. “I should like it above all things!” she said. “I was used to be overwhelmed by the modiste Mama chose. She spoke as if I were a green girl without the slightest notion what would s
uit me. As if she were vastly superior to either Mama or myself. I think I should much prefer a woman who would listen to what I have to say.”

  Emily grinned. “Good! Let us go at once. I promise you shall like her and she shall like you. My carriage should be here by now and I shall direct the coachman to take us to her home, where she works.”

  It took only a few moments for Juliet to gather her spencer and bonnet and gloves and reticule. Once they were settled in the carriage and headed for a part of London few ladies visited, Emily spoke again.

  “I ought, perhaps, to tell you,” she said hesitantly, “that this woman is someone who used to be in Bedlam. Not because she was mad but because her husband was angry with her. I have helped her to get out and away from the brute. And I throw whatever business I can her way, but only with ladies whom I know will not betray her secret. And she hires young girls to help her who have nowhere else to go, no other way to support themselves save by taking to the streets. Some of them, I think, perhaps even did for a while. If you wish, we may turn around and go back home.”

  Juliet squeezed Emily’s hand. “Not for the world!” she said. “The poor woman! I should like to do something to help her. And if she is as good with a needle as you say, I shall be even more glad to give her my custom.”

  “Good, for we are here. Come, ignore the way this place appears and follow me. I assure you that Mrs. Wise will please you.”

  A word to the coachman and they made their way to a nearby building. Emily went up the stairs first, and while a number of the inhabitants of the building stared at them, no one tried to bar their way. Still, Juliet felt a trifle overwhelmed. Until, that is, a matronly woman opened her door at Emily’s knock.

  “Mrs. Langford! I didn’t look to see you back here again so soon!”

  “I’ve brought a customer for you,” Emily said, stepping back to introduce Juliet. “Another Mrs. Langford. Mrs. James Langford.”

  Mrs. Wise bobbed a curtsey and said, “You are most welcome, ma’am. If you will come in?”

  Juliet was relieved to see that despite the squalor of the neighborhood outside, the woman kept her own apartment as neat as a pin. And the three young women in the room were dressed neatly as well.

  Mrs. Wise regarded Juliet with a shrewd eye and asked, “How may I help you, ma’am?”

  Juliet looked down at her gown wryly. “My mother has dressed me in pale colors and insisted that every gown be covered with bows and furbelows. Now that I am married, I have done my best to remove the trim, but I think an even greater change is warranted.”

  “Bolder colors, I told her,” Emily chimed in.

  Mrs. Wise circled Juliet slowly. She studied her face. Finally, tapping her chin thoughtfully, she said, “Plain lines suit you. But not cut in quite this way. Deep, rich colors will bring out the color in your eyes.”

  Mrs. Wise drew out a sheaf of paper and began to sketch quickly. When she was done, she showed Juliet. “This for day, I think. And this, if you should be needing a ball gown. And this for a riding habit. This is what I should make, if I had the dressing of you.”

  Juliet let out the breath she didn’t even know she had been holding. The sketches seemed to come to life, despite how quickly they had been drawn, and she could imagine herself happily wearing any one of the dresses Mrs. Wise had sketched for her.

  “Oh, yes!” she said. “How soon can you begin?”

  Mrs. Wise looked at Emily. “For a friend of Mrs. Langford, I can begin today!” Then, a trifle diffidently she added, “I’m afraid I must ask for some funds in advance. To purchase the materials, you understand. I am still not as beforehand with the world as I should like.”

  It was clear how much it had cost Mrs. Wise to say those words. Impulsively Juliet opened her reticule and said, “Just tell me how much in funds you need to begin.”

  The matter was soon settled and Juliet and Emily in the carriage and on their way back to the hotel where Juliet and James were still staying.

  “I wonder if he will be back there yet,” Juliet said, more to herself than anyone else.

  Emily patted her hand. “If not, you must not fall prey to the megrims. You’ve a lifetime ahead to turn your husband’s attention to you. Contemplate instead your mama’s astonishment the first time she sees you in the gowns Mrs. Wise is making for you.”

  Juliet grinned. “She will be mad as fire! And for the first time in my life, I shall feel as if I am almost pretty. I am so glad you took me to see Mrs. Wise. She understands perfectly.”

  Her smile faltered, however, as she said, “Was she truly in Bedlam? I cannot think it right that she should have ever been, for she was not in the least wanting in wits.”

  “Unfortunately she was indeed there,” Emily said, her own expression grim. “And I, too, felt she was not wanting in wits. That was why I got her out. But as horrible as it was for her, at least in Bedlam she was safe from her beast of a husband. Too many women never are. ‘Tis one reason she rescues girls from the streets and tries to teach them to assist her. Most leave and the ones who stay are not always the most skilled with a needle, but she will not give up.”

  “I am glad she does so,” Juliet said with a fierceness that surprised both of them. “It is not right that men should have such power over us.”

  “No,” Emily agreed slowly. “But that is how it is. For now. We are fortunate in our husbands and ought to do what we can for those women we know who are not.”

  Chapter 14

  Philip and Emily and Sir Thomas and Harry and James and another gentleman bent over the newspaper. They carefully read her latest piece and then consulted the Latin Bible they had borrowed from Lord Darton’s library.

  “Did I get it right?” Emily asked anxiously.

  It took another ten minutes and then Sir Thomas and Harry grinned at one another.

  “Perfect!” Harry said. “Absolutely perfect! And no one, reading it, could think anything amiss.”

  “Yes, but now you shall have to carry that heavy Latin Bible about,” Philip said doubtfully.

  Harry shrugged, his devil-may-care eyes dancing with amusement. “A good many men carry Bibles into battle,” he said. “But if need be, perhaps I shall become a wandering priest, or something of the sort. I shall pretend that my whole life revolves around this Bible. Which, in a sense, it will.”

  James snorted. “As though anyone would believe such a thing of you!” he said.

  Sir Thomas, however, eyed Harry thoughtfully. “That might not be such a bad notion,” he said.

  Harry rolled his eyes. “I was jesting,” he said. “No more than James do I think anyone would believe me in such a role! Nor that Wellington would spare me from the fighting for such a purpose.”

  Now it was Sir Thomas who shrugged. “Perhaps. But should it ever come to that, it would make an excellent disguise. No one pays any attention to priests in wartime. What do you think, Baines?” he asked the other gentleman.

  Frederick Baines smiled lazily. “I think young Harry would make an interesting priest but I am more concerned with this code you’ve come up with. And how to protect Mrs. Langford from discovery. You said there had been rumors that she is the author of several columns. How is her writing being delivered to the paper?”

  Sir Thomas looked at Philip and Emily and quirked an eyebrow enquiringly.

  “I send it with a footman to the paper,” he said blankly. “But the fellow is never in livery when he goes.”

  “No, but perhaps he talks,” Baines pointed out, with a deceptively careless air. “If you gave it instead to Sir Thomas and he chose, quite at random of course, a street urchin to send it with, that might be safer.”

  “But how can we be certain it will get there, then?” Emily blurted out.

  “Oh, I think perhaps Harry could arrange that the right sort of urchin would be hanging about at the right time,” Baines said blandly. “Couldn’t you, Major Langford?”

  Harry nodded slowly. A grin spread across his face. “Yes,
I believe I could,” he agreed.

  “And then we must hint that another lady is responsible,” Baines persisted. “I know one or two who might be amenable to being thought the author of Mrs. Langford’s fiery pieces demanding reform.”

  There were a few more details to be worked out, but by the time the clock struck the hour, it was done.

  “When will you return to the continent?” Philip asked.

  “Very soon,” Harry replied. “There is a great deal to do and not much time to do it in. James, you must be in place as soon as possible. Establish yourself and your wife as a newlywed pair absorbed entirely in one another. An eccentric who likes to tramp around the tops of cliffs and explore towers. All sorts of towers. There should also soon be a man in place in France. With luck you will both be able to do what you must without arousing local suspicion. Once I have word of success, I shall be off.”

  “And if this invention does not work?” Frederick Baines hazarded lightly.

  Harry, Philip, and Sir Thomas smiled as one. James looked affronted. He would have protested but Sir Thomas forestalled him, “Oh, it will, Freddy. Trust me, or rather, trust James to see to that.”

  The men all rose to their feet and prepared to take their leave of one another. Frederick Baines promised to provide further advice at any time it was needed. Only he and Major Langford and James knew what else he was going to do. They all agreed that the fewer who knew the entire plan, the better it would be.

  “Thank you, sir,” Harry said, regarding the older man steadily. “They still speak of your exploits in the Mediterranean, you know, and have the highest regard for your abilities. They say it is a pity you chose to retire. I am grateful for the assistance you have given me.”

  Sir Thomas and Baines exchanged a look. Baines shrugged. “Life does not always turn out as one wishes. Remember that when you are on one of your own missions, m’boy!”

  “I shall.”

  “Enough!” Sir Thomas said. “We must be going. And not all at once. We shall leave by different doors and at different times.”

  “Is that really necessary?” James asked. “Juliet will be anxious, wondering where I am.”