What Would Jane Austen Do?

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What Would Jane Austen Do? Page 4

by Laurie Brown


  The girls reacted as if a rock star was walking up the drive. Their whispering and sighing prompted their mother to ask, “Whom are you talking about?”

  “Lord Shermont, of course,” Fiona said. After a lingering look out the window, she turned and flounced across the room to join the other women. “I do hope he asks me to dance.”

  “I think I’d faint if he asked me,” Hazel said, arriving on her sister’s heels.

  * * *

  “I’m disappointed we didn’t get a look at Huxley’s filly,” Shermont said as they reentered the manor.

  “Believe you me, you’re not missing much,” Digby responded, again handing his hat to the footman. “She’s not much to look at.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” Shermont considered himself a good judge of horseflesh and knew from experience speed and stamina did not always come in a pretty package.

  Digby waved off the words of wisdom. “Bit rude of Huxley to put the exercise of his mount over greeting his host, don’t you think?”

  “Not necessarily. Owning an animal carries responsibilities as well as joys.” If the horse had been kept tied to the back of the carriage the whole way over, the animal probably needed and deserved a good run.

  “That’s why we have grooms,” Digby said.

  Shermont understood not wanting a stranger on his favorite horse. “I don’t allow anyone else to ride my stallion. A heavy-handed groom would ruin his sensitive mouth.”

  Digby could not deny that, so he changed the subject. “I’d much rather spend time with the ladies. I intend to change and join them.” He started up the stairs.

  Shermont followed with a similar plan. He entered his room and threw off his coat. “Carl?”

  His valet appeared with a basin of hot water and fresh towels. “Yes, milord,” he answered in his somber tone. Dressed in his usual black, his demeanor was funereal except for his one vanity: an elaborate and ugly wig to hide his baldness and protruding ears.

  Born in the mews of London to an abusive father, Carl had left home at the age of eight after his mother died of consumption. Admitting only to being fifty years old, he’d had various careers: pickpocket, sailor, acrobat, jockey, cat burglar, to name a few. The previous Lord Shermont had recruited him straight out of Newgate to steal an incriminating document from a third-story bedroom. A patriot despite all, Carl had stayed on to help find and neutralize foreign agents who were selling information to the enemies of the crown. He could now add valet to his colorful resume. The bandy-legged little man had proven himself a worthy partner.

  “I wish to change and get back downstairs as quickly as possible,” Shermont said, stripping off his clothes.

  “Some men take as much as two or three hours to complete their toilettes,” Carl said with a hint of disapproval. “A gentleman is often judged by the care he takes with his appearance.”

  “Attention to detail is fine. Wasting time is not. We have another suspect. There is a new guest. A female.”

  Something about her—the way she talked, the way she acted—seemed familiar. Was it a memory from the past he couldn’t remember? As usual, thinking about his life before what he called the “accident” gave him an instant headache over his right eye, a stabbing pain that blurred his vision. He applied pressure on the scar and cleared his mind. The throbbing lessened to a manageable level.

  “The cousin from America,” Carl said with a nod. “She could well be a Napoleon supporter.”

  “Digby wasn’t acting very cousinly toward her.” Shermont dismissed the niggling jealousy, calling it excitement that their hunt for a foreign agent in the area was finally achieving results. He hoped that by changing clothes in record time he could get downstairs to question her before Digby arrived.

  “A distant cousin,” Carl clarified. “According to the servants, she’s a childhood friend of the sisters. Their uncle Huxley was married to a Roberta Donaldson, and her brother is Mrs. Pottinger’s father.”

  “Married to …”

  “Widowed eighteen months ago.”

  Shermont released a breath he wasn’t sure why he’d been holding. “The husband?”

  “No one seems to remember him. Only reference was to the Captain. They did say her husband was killed in battle,” Carl continued. “Another reason she would have no love for the English despite being born here.”

  “Send a message to our contact at the diplomatic corps, and see if they have any information on a Captain Pottinger. He could have been military or even a private ship’s captain. Did you find out why she’s here? Seems a dangerous time to make such a hazardous journey simply to visit old friends.”

  “According to Twilla, the ladies’ maid, the sisters hope to foster a marital alliance with their brother. It would be an advantageous match for the American, as she has no fortune and no prospects. Other servants are quite sure Digby will marry Miss Holcum.”

  “What does his valet say?” Shermont asked, knowing a man could keep few secrets from his manservant.

  “His valet is closemouthed, as is proper.”

  Shermont had finished dressing and turned to the mirror to check his cravat. “Excellent.” He patted the elaborate knot Carl had tied. “Keep your ears open,” he encouraged as he headed for the door with a light step.

  “Yes, milord.”

  Chapter Three

  Interested in the topic of their conversation, Eleanor left her seat by the window in the parlor and joined the other women around the coffee table. She accepted a cup of tea from Deirdre.

  “Shermont will not ask either of you to dance if he has a lick of sense,” Mrs. Maxwell said to her daughters. “Your father would—”

  “It’s just a dance, Mother,” Fiona said.

  “No. It’s your reputation.”

  “What is it about that man young girls find so fascinating?” Mrs. Holcum asked. “Oh, I know he’s handsome, and titled, and—”

  “Now he has a title,” Mrs. Matthews interrupted. “But I heard …” She paused for effect, and the other chaperones leaned forward. “Five years ago, the elder Shermont found him on the roadside beaten near to death by brigands, as the story goes. He survived, but he has no memory of how he got there or any events before being found. He does not even remember his real name. Since the elderly Shermont’s sons had both been killed fighting Napoleon, he later named this stranger his heir.”

  “Can someone adopt a grown man?” Eleanor blurted out.

  “Not adopt,” Deirdre explained. “Named as his heir. Not unusual for a man without a son to name a nephew or cousin or distant relative—”

  “But a stranger?” Aunt Patience shook her head. “Who would have thought it possible?”

  “And most surprising, Prinny approved,” Mrs. Holcum said. “He missed an opportunity to have the sizable estate revert to the crown. Not that I would say anything bad about the Regent, but to elevate a man of uncertain breeding …”

  “I met Shermont several years ago,” Mrs. Matthews said. “He had an accent I couldn’t place, definitely unrefined. Perhaps he is a Colonial, like your cousin,” she added to Deirdre.

  Eleanor bristled and would have made a scathing comment about intentional rudeness, but Mina quickly remarked, “I find her accent charming.”

  “We are at war with the United States,” Mrs. Holcum said with a sniff.

  “I understand your concern for your brother serving in the Navy, but England is not at war with our cousin,” Deirdre said, putting deliberate emphasis on the last two words.

  Mrs. Holcum pressed her lips into a hard white line, saying no more along the ugly American theme. Eleanor decided to cut the woman some slack. She’d forgotten about the War of 1812, as it was known in America. Although the presence of men in uniform was mentioned several times in Jane Austen’s work, Eleanor had always assumed they were destined to fight Napoleon.

  “The Americans. The French. Is there anyone we’re not fighting?” Fiona sighed. “These wars have created a dearth of availa
ble young men, and any still in England speak of nothing else.” She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin in her hand. Her mother tutted her disapproval, so Fiona sat up as straight as a yardstick and folded her hands in her lap.

  “The Spanish are our allies,” Mrs. Holcum pointed out.

  “And if a Spaniard appears on our doorstep, we will offer him our hospitality,” Deirdre said. “Currently, Lord Shermont is our guest and as such can expect nothing less than appropriate civility.”

  “He seems quite proper,” Aunt Patience said. “He’s been here for several days, and his manners have been above reproach.”

  “Well, he has spent time in polite society,” Mrs. Matthews admitted. “Perhaps one should not be too hasty to judge a person solely by his antecedents. Other factors should be taken into account.”

  “Other assets aside, I hear he has a large … um … fortune,” Aunt Patience said.

  Mina and Hazel giggled and whispered and giggled more. Eleanor fought to keep from rolling her eyes.

  “Good heavens, Patience, don’t say such things in the presence of impressionable ears.” Mrs. Holcum gave her daughter a stern look. “My daughter will not dance with that man. For all we know he could be the son of a … a …”

  “Highwayman or pirate,” Mina supplied with a wistful smile.

  Eleanor shivered, but her reaction was not fear.

  “A rather fanciful notion,” a deep voice responded.

  Lord Shermont sauntered into the parlor, with Lord Digby on his heels.

  Deirdre jumped up and greeted the newcomers. She put her arm through Teddy’s and said, “Brother dear, do say something in defense of our guest.”

  “I might point out that ne’er-do-wells rarely speak several languages, quote classical literature, or understand scientific and mathematic principles,” Teddy said, almost hiding his reluctance at singing the other man’s praises.

  Mina stuck out her bottom lip. “There could be an educated pirate.”

  “Obviously my sister has been reading too many romantic novels,” Teddy said as he shook his head and spread his hands.

  Shermont stepped forward to execute a gallant bow in front of Mina. He raised her hand to the barest brush of his lips. “While I’m flattered to be compared to the hero of one of your books, I expect when the truth of my previous circumstances is known, my heritage will prove quite ordinary.”

  “I think not,” the entranced girl whispered.

  Eleanor changed her mind and decided Mina must be the one who was seduced. Shermont moved away from Mina and stood by the fireplace with one elbow on the mantle. Even though he appeared to ignore her, he was close enough for Eleanor to detect the spicy scent of his cologne.

  Teddy cleared his throat. “So where is the dancing master? You have here two gallantly agreeable partners. That is, at least in my case, if you’re willing to risk your toes in the pursuit of learning the latest fashionable steps.”

  “My dear, you are a marvelous dancer,” Aunt Patience said. “But poor Mr. Foucalt was so distressed by his arduous journey from town that I told him we would wait until tomorrow for our lesson. We can have the footman fetch him if you would prefer today.”

  “Not necessary,” Teddy said. “It is too nice to remain indoors anyway.”

  “Let’s go on an outing,” Mina suggested, clapping her hands. “To the ruins.”

  “Capital!” Teddy agreed. “Cook will pack a picnic, and you won’t have to return until late afternoon.” He yanked on the bellpull, and the butler appeared almost instantly. “The party will need transportation to the ruins. Both the carriage and the landau, I should think.”

  Tuttle bowed. “Yes, milord.”

  “I noticed you didn’t call for your horses. Won’t you gentlemen accompany us?” Mrs. Holcum asked Teddy.

  He laid his hand over his heart. “Unfortunately, duty takes precedence over pleasure. I must remain behind to welcome the other guests expected to arrive today.”

  Shermont wasn’t given a chance to reply before Mrs. Holcum spoke up.

  “Perhaps we should delay the picnic until tomorrow,” she suggested. “It looks as though it might rain this afternoon, and I’m sure your other guests will enjoy such an outing.”

  Eleanor deduced Beatrix’s mother didn’t want to wander too far away from the fish she thought her daughter had caught.

  “I agree,” Deirdre said. “I have had enough of the inside of a carriage for one day. We could play croquet.”

  “Excellent idea,” Aunt Patience said. “We will meet you gentlemen on the south lawn in half an hour. That should be time enough to fetch our bonnets and parasols. With your leave.”

  She stood and led the ladies from the room.

  A fraction of a second late in understanding she should tag along, Eleanor jumped up. Because she wasn’t used to wearing a long dress, she stepped on the hem of her skirt and lurched forward to catch her balance. Shermont caught her arm, preventing her from taking a header.

  “Once again, I’ve had the pleasure of rescuing you,” he said.

  Eleanor pulled free and avoided rubbing the tingling spot where he had touched her. “Thank you. I appreciate your saving my dignity again. I’m not usually so clumsy.”

  “That’s good. I believe it’s a rule that after three rescues you would be formally obligated to dance with me at the ball.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “Absolutely.” He leaned forward as if to confide a secret. “I am a terrible dancer. I tread on my partners’ feet and make wrong turns. I can’t make small talk because I’m counting the steps out loud. Deplorable.”

  His rakish smile told her his self-depreciation was charming nonsense. Teddy’s snort of disbelief reinforced her intuition.

  She pasted an innocent look on her face and batted her eyelashes a little. “In that case, should the possibility arise, I will be sure to wear my steel-toed dancing slippers.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Then I hope you won’t step on my feet.”

  The tone of his teasing contained an unspoken challenge she found stimulating. “I would hate to make a promise so easily broken.”

  “Then maybe we should substitute another activity for the obligatory dance. May I suggest a walk in the garden?” His deep blue eyes suggested she’d discover more than scented pathways.

  His charm was made all the more dangerous by her physical reaction to his nearness. She forced herself to remember what had happened to Deirdre and Mina. “Perhaps next time you should just let me fall on my face.”

  He gave her a wounded look that was plainly a sham. “As a gentleman, I could never stand by and allow such a catastrophe to happen.”

  “Nor would I,” Teddy said, stepping between them. “My duty is to look after you, and with that in mind, I shall endeavor to be by your side the next time you need rescuing.”

  Eleanor tipped her head in what she hoped was a gracious nod. “I’ll try to remain solidly on my feet in the future.”

  “Then I shall have to find some other means to be of service to you. For the nonce, may I escort you to your room to fetch your bonnet and shawl before we go outside?”

  Teddy offered his arm, his expression smug, almost as if he expected her to respond to his mild flattery with fawning adoration. Despite his angelic looks and charming manner, his attentions made her uncomfortable.

  “Thank you, but I’m sure you should be making arrangements for the croquet game. I can find my way upstairs without assistance.” She sidled out of his reach and left the room as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.

  Shermont’s knowing chuckle followed her up the stairs.

  Was he laughing at her hasty flight or the fact that Teddy’s offer had been refused? Either way, she would be in trouble. Good thing she planned on going home as soon as she could find those pesky ghosts and convince them to send her back. And the best place for that would be the bedroom where they’d met.

  She pushed aside a
tiny bubble of regret. It could have been interesting to … no, she wouldn’t think about that.

  Eleanor ran to the room where her adventure had started. She called out to the ghosts as soon as she entered the sitting room.

  Deirdre came out of Mina’s bedroom. “I’m surprised to see you so quickly.”

  Within a heartbeat, Eleanor realized the speaker was the live girl and not one of the ghosts she was hoping to see.

  Mina stuck her head around the doorjamb. “For heaven’s sake, Ellen—”

  “Eleanor,” she responded absently. How could she get rid of the live girls so she could talk to the ghosts?

  “As you wish, Eleanor.” Mina marched into the room and stood with her hands on her hips. “Although you needn’t put on airs with us.”

  “We left you downstairs so you could speak to Teddy alone,” Deirdre said.

  “Did you flatter him?” Mina asked. “Let him know how happy you are to be back at the source of so many happy memories? You know, set the plan in motion?”

  Eleanor was confused. What plan was she talking about? “Uh … not exactly. I guess I’m still a bit overwhelmed.”

  Mina raised her hands in exasperation.

  “Never mind her theatrics,” Deirdre said. “We’ll have time to talk about your marriage later. Hurry and put on your bonnet. We don’t want to keep Shermont … I mean, our brother waiting.”

  Now Eleanor understood why the girls had invited poor Ellen to visit. If their friend married Teddy, they would have an ally in the matter of getting to London for the Season. But that subject would have to wait. Eleanor still needed to talk to the ghosts about sending her home. “Why don’t you two go on ahead? I … I think I need a few minutes alone to gather my thoughts. Everything is happening so fast.”

  “Fast? You were on the boat for six weeks,” Mina said.

  “I guess the fact that I am really here is still so unbelievable. I never expected to—”

  “See, that premonition of the ship sinking that you mentioned in your last letter was only your imagination. You were merely worried about the drastic changes you’re making,” Deirdre said. “Just remember, it’s all for the better.”

 

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