Corseting The Earl

by Killarney Sheffield

  Her sigh lingered in the room. Her joyous evening at the theater ended in strain and worry.

  “You sound tired, miss.”

  She looked up at the maid’s reflection in the mirror. “’Tis just that the city is so exciting and stimulating when you are used to the quiet dullness of town life.”

  The maid smiled. “Yes, it must be. Do you require anything else tonight, Miss?”

  “No thank you.” Though Pippa dearly wanted someone else to attend Heath this night, she had no choice.

  “Pleasant dreams, miss.” With a bob the maid left, closing the door softly behind.

  After one last brush stroke through her hair, Pippa stood and went across the hall to Heath’s rooms. Upon opening the door she found him seated at the dressing table removing his makeup.

  She crossed to stand behind him and undo the buttons down the back of his gown, taking care not to meet his eye in the mirror.

  “It was quite a coincidence meeting with Mitchel tonight,” he mused.

  Ignoring his attempt to draw information, she finished with the buttons and set to work on his corset lacings.

  “It seems it is a remarkably small world, what with the squire’s son, the viscount, and you all familiar with each other.”

  “So it seems,” Pippa mumbled.

  “Is there anything you would like to confess?”

  Pippa scowled at him in the mirror. “Oh, so because Mitchel just happens to be at the theater I have something to hide?”

  Heath stood, clutching the sagging bodice to his chest in a way so comically feminine Pippa almost laughed. “It is quite the coincidence, and one you cannot deny looks mighty suspicious.”

  Arms crossed she stared him down. “So, now I am a suspect? Tell me, my lord, if I was some sort of political spy, or informant, or whoever it is you are trying to chase down in a petticoat and a wig, then why would I help you?”

  His eyes narrowed. “To throw me off the trail, that is why.”

  Rolling her eyes she stalked to the wardrobe and yanked out a night dress. “According to you, women are simply not intelligent enough to be a spy.”

  “I never actually said that,” he pointed out.

  She tossed the night dress at him which he caught in one hand. “You might as well have.”

  Heath let the gown puddle at his feet and stood there is his chemise, stockings and half pantaloons. “Why are you so angry?”

  With a sniff she turned away and busied herself tidying the dressing table. “I am not angry.”

  “Well, you are not exactly happy.”

  Material rustled and she tried to ignore the vision in her mind of his muscled chest sliding free of his women’s garments. Her hands shook at the remembrance of his bronzed physic complete with tiny patch of golden fuzz where his breast bones joined. When she went to line up the little bottles of fragrance, her twitching fingers fumbled with the smallest one and it tipped onto its side. The light scent of jasmine tickled her nose. In haste she set it back up right. “Oh, fie.”

  “See, I knew you were angry.”

  Pippa swung on him. “I am not! I simply knocked over the perfume bottle and made a mess.” Tears weld up in her eyes and she blinked them back and turned away lest he see.

  “Pippa.” Soft foot falls approached her and then a hand rested on her arm. “You are upset with me, why?”

  Her lips trembled at his gentle tone. “I am not. I am only tired.”

  His hand tugged her arm until she turned to him. When she would have stared at his now bare chest he raised her chin with strong fingers to look him in the eye. “Do you still have feelings for this Mitchel?”

  “No! Good Lord, no. I have only contempt for him.” She blinked at the sympathy she found in his blue-eyed stare. Why did he have to be so arrogant one moment and then understanding the next? Tears blurred her vision and she fought to keep them at bay.

  “Then if not him, tell me what I have done to dismay you so?” His gaze searched hers, soft and hot at the same time.

  “You….” A tear trickled down her cheek unbidden.

  His gaze followed the single drop until it reached his thumb, and he wiped it away. “I what?”

  She shuddered at the simple gesture. “You confuse me.”

  He frowned. “How so?”

  Unconsciously she licked her lips and his stare locked on them. “One moment you are a…a cad, and the next you are so…well, like the man every woman would want.”

  “Oh.” He released her chin and stepped back. “I do not mean to lead you on as Mitchel did. I am engaged.”

  Turning away, she cursed her tongue for saying what she should not have. Now he would think she was throwing herself at him. “I did not mean that. I simply was pointing out how unreliable the male form is. I am not here for you to play with as a cat toys with a mouse, my lord.”

  “Indeed. I suppose you may go now, Miss Nickle.” When she swung a startled glance at him over her shoulder, he gave her a small smile. “Until morning, that is.”

  “Good night, my lord.” Pippa opened the door and slipped from the room.

  As she climbed between the covers of her own bed, her mind rolled with emotions. It was noddy to allow herself to be attracted to Heath. By his own admission he was engaged to another, one of better standing than she, no matter how boring she might be. And she herself was naught but a fallen woman, too dull of mind to realize Mitchel had only been after a tumble in the hay. She snorted and punched her pillow. As if a mere merchant’s daughter even had a chance with the esteemed Lord Sedgewick anyway, even if she were still pure. Rolling over she stared at the draping above the bed. No, these things she felt at the earl’s touch and kiss were merely figments of her imagination and wishes. Perhaps pregnancy made one’s emotions so fickle, so exposed. Yes, that was it. She was only attracted to his lordship because he was kind to her. Nothing more.

  * * *

  When Pippa and Heath entered the parlor late the next morning they found Lady Allan and Marcy going through a silver tray of calling cards.

  Marcy looked up with a smile. “Oh, Pippa, you and Mrs. Doyle have certainly made a splash here in London.”

  “We have?” Surprised, Pippa sank into the settee by the window, since it was the furthest away from Heath, who chose the chair by the empty fireplace.

  Lady Allan nodded to two large piles of invitations to the right of the dish as she set a third to the left. “Oh my, yes. It seems Percephany has caught Lord Atworthy’s eye, and he has left his calling card with a request to escort her to the park this afternoon, as well as an invite to a recital in his home this evening.”

  Despite the layers of face paint, Pippa could see Heath blanch. His discomfort cheered her. Serves him right for being such a cad. “How delightful for you, Percephany.” When he shot her an exasperated grimace, she smiled sweetly back.

  “And you, my dear Pippa, have not one, but seven invites to various afternoon and evening events today.”

  Pippa did her best to smile. Under normal circumstances she would be thrilled to have garnered such attention. Present condition considered, she was less than pleased. What if someone should offer for her? How was she to rebuff such a thing were it to happen? Even if she claimed no interest, it would be up to her aunt and uncle to dismiss or accept any courtship proposals in her parent’s stead, and she would have little say in the matter. “How lovely.”

  Lady Allan beamed. “It seems the chaperone is the one to be chaperoned this afternoon. I believe Lord Atworthy has requested a ride in the park this afternoon and tea at Covent Garden afterward. Please be sure you ladies are ready at half past one.” At Heath’s smothered groan, she frowned. “I beg your pardon, Percephany?”

  “Oh, ’twas nothing, my lady, simply my piles acting up again.”

  “Oh dear.” Lady Allan’s lips turned down further. “You are awfully young for such an infirmity.”

  “So I am told,” Heath grumbled, and then pasted a smile to his lips that could easil
y be taken as a grimace.

  “Marcy and I shall spend the afternoon in the shops picking up last minute decorations for her nuptials. I think we shall extend our stay until the end of the week. Hopefully both of you will be able to gain some courtship interest that will follow you back to Bracenville. It would be my pleasure to extend a wedding invitation to any you choose to pay court to you, of course.” Her eyes twinkled with glee at the idea.

  “Yes, Aunt Beth, that is most kind of you.” Pippa did her best to look happy about the situation.

  “Think nothing of it, my dear. Why, your mother would be so proud of you to have landed such interest, despite not even attending a full season. If only it were that easy, we would not even have need for a season.” Looking well pleased with herself, Lady Allan took a sip of her tea. “Marcy, Pippa, you may head above stairs to ready yourselves for an afternoon out. Mrs. Doyle, may I have a word with you in private?”

  With the look of a cornered rabbit, Heath inclined his head. “As you wish, Lady Allan.”

  Pippa headed upstairs with Marcy. Halfway up she excused herself under the guise of retrieving a forgotten fan from the parlor and hurried back down. Once Marcy was out of sight Pippa peered both ways down the hall to be sure no one was witness and then pressed her ear to the parlor door.

  “Your maid has brought it to my attention that your stomach troubles have not lessened.”

  Heath’s reply was even higher pitched than usual, “No, but I assure you I am fine, ’tis nothing to worry about.”

  Lady Allan’s tone cooled, “My dear, Mrs. Doyle, I was not born yesterday. Do you think me a fool?”

  “A fool? Dear no, Lady Allan.”

  “It is obvious one of two things is going on here. Either you are gravely ill and in need of a doctor, covering up a terrible condition, or…and I hate to even think of the possibility, you are with child.”

  Pippa’s gasp mingled with that of Heath’s. Now everything would come out and she would be sent back to her parent’s in disgrace.

  “Lady Allan, I have no idea what to say. The idea I may be with child is just ludicrous to say the least!”

  “It is? And why is that?”

  “Well…it has been well over a year since my husband’s demise, you will remember.”

  Lady Allan’s voice softened, “Percephany, you would hardly be the first widow to make a mistake out of loneliness, you know. It is a terrible predicament to find yourself in, I am sure. Unfortunately it is impossible we may pass the child off as your dear departed husband’s to save face—”

  “Lady Allan,” Heath interrupted. “I assure you that I cannot possibly be with child, for I cannot conceive. It is absolutely impossible, short of Immaculate Conception, of which I do not believe in, and I am sure a wise woman, such as yourself, would not fall for either.”

  “I see. Then I shall send a note around to Doctor Willis immediately so that he may examine you and provide a tincture to aid you.”

  “That is hardly necessary, my lady, I should not want to be a bother.”

  “I will not take no for an answer, Mrs. Doyle, you are in my care and I insist. You can drop by the physician’s this afternoon on your outing with Lord Atworthy. You may go now.”

  Pippa jumped away from the door and ran upstairs. She reached her room as Heath’s heavy footfalls sounded on the stairway.

  Heath entered her room without knocking. “Well, that was close.”

  “What will happen when the doctor tells her you are fine and a man?”

  His look grew grim. “It will be a disaster. Somehow I have to avoid that appointment. You could go in my stead.”

  “And then what? Do you think my aunt would be any less upset when the doctor discovers I am with child and tells her you are?” Pippa shook her head. “Either way, we are going to be found out.”

  With a groan Heath flopped on the bed. “It is all over. I have failed to find the spy and the links to Charlotte’s supporters.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Doctor Willis was a not unhandsome man, with dark hair and a kind smile. He ushered them into his office with a harried smile. “Come in, come in, ladies, so sorry I am late. I tend to the orphans down at Heatherington House one morning a week, you see. ’Tis my good deed you know.” He sighed. “Though I fear my services will not be needed much longer. The poor children are to be sent to the workhouses by the end of the month since the money for their care is running out.”

  “The poor things,” Pippa sympathized, taking an immediate liking to one of his station who thought of those less fortunate. “Is there anything we could do to help?”

  “Not unless you have a great deal of blunt to give away, I am afraid.” The doctor hung up his coat. “Now, Lady Allan sent me a missive concerned with the state of Mrs. Doyle’s digestive system. Shall we have a look see?”

  Heath backed up a step. “It is nothing I assure you. I have no need of an exam.”

  Doctor Willis smiled. “Now, now, there is no need to be shy. I assure you I would endeavor to be very discreet, Mrs. Doyle. A simple listen to your stomach with my ear trumpet is all that is needed. Just lie back on my table now.” He advanced with his stethoscope drawn until the back of Heath’s legs bumped the table in retreat.

  “You do not understand—”

  “A simple listen is all, I assure you, I will not ask you to disrobe,” the good doctor cajoled.

  Heath wobbled and then tipped backward, landing with an, “oomph” on the table. He fixed Pippa with a pleading look.

  Before she could intervene the doctor had his stethoscope to Heath’s chest. His brows furrowed a moment and then he moved the scope to the other side. His frown deepened and he dropped it lower. With a puzzled look he lowered it to the abdomen. After listening for a moment he straightened. “I could not find a heartbeat, but your guttural sounds are normal. Lie back please.”

  Heath darted an anxious look at the door and then opened his mouth to protest, but the doctor pushed him back with a firm hand.

  Pippa bit her lip and steeled herself for the doctor’s outrage when he undid the top two buttons on the gown, peeled away the high lace collar and came face to face with Heath’s Adams apple.

  “What the devil?” The doctor stumbled back as if he’d been burned. “What is the meaning of this jest?”

  “I can explain.” Heath scrambled from the table, the rounds of material making up his artificial breasts falling out of the gap in his dress and to the floor. His voice took on its natural tone rather than Percephany’s high pitch, “I am on a covert mission, sir, and…well, did not intend to be sent to see a physician, you see—”

  “What kind of trick is this to dress as a woman? Are you making a jest of me?” The doctor stared at him wide-eyed.

  “Oh no, sir,” Pippa interjected. “He was only trying to protect me, sir, and the maid told Lady Allan about the chamber pot and, well, she would not take Heath’s explanation of a simple stomach ailment as truth.”

  Heath added, “She thought I was with child you see, but ’tis not me with child and I did not want to betray Miss Nickle’s confidence, you see—”

  “Wait, hold up there.” Doctor Willis held up his hand. “Perhaps you both best start at the beginning.”

  The doctor was not much happier when they explained the whole sordid story. “Now what do you suppose I do? I cannot very well lie to Lady Allan.”

  “Perhaps a generous donation to keep the orphanage running and cover your expenses for say, one year, would be enough to omit the whole truth?” Heath offered.

  The doctor contemplated the idea in silence for a moment. “If you have such blunt it would, I suppose.”

  Heath pulled a visiting card from his reticule with his name engraved. “How does a thousand pounds sound?”

  “Quite…quite, well, my l-lord,” the doctor stammered when he read the name on the card. “Lord Sedgewick, I am so sorry to have not recognized you, please forgive me.”

  “That is quite all righ
t, sir.” Heath crossed to the desk, wrote the sum on the back, along with a note to his solicitor, and then handed it to Doctor Willis. “Now we shall simply tell Lady Allan I am in good health and am to stay away from creams and desserts for my digestive health, all right?”

  “Yes, very good, my lord, I shall write her as such right away.”

  “Good.” Heath re-stuffed his bodice, fastened his buttons and straightened his wig. “Good day, doctor.”

  The young man stared as they left with the strangest, bewildered expression on his face. Pippa couldn’t help laughing.

  Heath raised a brow. “What?”

  “That poor doctor is about as flabbergasted as they come.”

  “I should think so. Percephany has that effect on people, me thinks.” He grinned and then handed her up into the viscount’s waiting carriage.

  The viscount tipped his head at the unusual sight. “So…how did the doctor’s appointment go?”

  “Very well, actually, my lord. There is nothing amiss that a little plainer food will not fix.” Heath settled on the velvet forward facing bench beside Pippa.

  “Wonderful,” the viscount mumbled, looking far less pleased than he should have at the news. “On to the tea house then, I suppose.”

  “Great. I should have said I needed immediate bed rest,” Heath snipped under his breath.

  “What is that, Mrs. Doyle?” The viscount leaned closer.

  Heath cleared his throat. “I say just saying an absence of sweets will not hurt my figure.”

  The viscount blinked. “Most certainly…ah…not…um, oh look, there is Lord Atworthy’s coach and four now.”

  When the viscount turned to point out the window Heath stuck out his tongue. Pippa elbowed him. With a grunt, he looked out the window. “Yes, how lovely. What woman does not adore a prompt and timely man?”