“I cannot thank you enough for your help, Mr. Primble.” He shook the man’s hand. Then, turning to their hostess, he bowed over her hand. “Mrs. Primble, you have saved us a great deal of trouble with your candor.”
“I’ll add my thanks, as well,” Sophia said as she rose from the settee on her own power, but with Ben quickly offering a supporting arm. Really, she was much improved and didn’t need quite this much assistance. But she couldn’t help but admit it was no hardship to feel his strong arm beneath her fingertips.
“You are welcome, my dears.” Mrs. Primble beamed at them. “I detest it when a man attempts to silence a lady. Especially when he uses ridiculous charges of impropriety and obscenity to do it. I would venture to guess that a great deal of what men like that consider obscene are simply things that bother their conscience. If he gives you another bit of trouble you must come to me, Miss Hastings.”
“What will happen to Ryder?” asked Primble once they’d reached the entryway of the house. “If it is him, I mean? It’s entirely possible that there’s someone else in the area with a gift for copying. It’s not an unusual way for artists to learn. And the odds of him being the only one in the area to use it are slim.”
“I don’t know at this time,” Freddie responded. “But I must ask you to keep this conversation to yourselves. We do not wish Mr. Ryder or Morgan to learn that he’s a suspect now. If we are to catch him, we need him to remain unaware of our interest.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Primble assured him as he kissed her hand. “We will be silent as the grave. But you must let us know what happens, Miss Hastings. I expect a full report once the business is over.”
Since Sophia had no notion of when that would be, she made the promise easily. If she was, for some reason, gone from Beauchamp House by the time the business with the forger was resolved, then Mrs. Primble would simply have to understand.
Once they were outside, and Freddie’s horse and the curricle had been brought around, the brothers made arrangements to meet back of the vicarage once Ben had returned Sophia to Beauchamp House.
“Miss Hastings,” said Freddie with a crooked grin. “I leave for London this afternoon, so I shan’t see you again this visit. But I wish to say how pleased I am to have made your acquaintance. I feel sure we’ll see one another again, but in the meantime I hope you’ll take care of yourself.”
He bowed low over her hand and kissed it.
There was no denying that Lord Frederick Lisle was a charmer. And that he was as handsome a man as she’d ever seen. But Sophia found she much preferred the understated wit and easy-going nature of Ben. Even so, she was pleased to have met the sauciest Lisle brother.
“You take care yourself, my lord,” she said with a grin. “And please tell your wife she has several admirers in the village of Little Seaford.”
He nodded, and once he was in the saddle, gave a tip of his hat and was off.
Ben grasped Sophia by the waist and lifted her into the curricle. Had she imagined the spark when their eyes met? She resisted the urge to press her hand to her chest. By the time Ben was up on the seat beside her, she’d managed to regain her composure.
Once they were settled, he gave the horses a signal to move and they were off.
“You’ll miss him when he’s gone, I think,” Sophia said into the sound of the horses’ hooves on the gravel lined drive.
“Of course,” Ben said with a shrug. “He’s family. He might drive me mad at times, but he’s my brother.”
“I know too well how that feels,” Sophia laughed. “It’s a good thing Gemma and I spend so much time devoted to our own pursuits. For if we had to spend our days in one another’s pockets, I very much fear one of us would end up with severe bodily harm.”
They spent the rest of the drive back to Beauchamp House in a discussion of the various merits and drawbacks of siblings.
When they reached the circular drive before the tidy manor house, Sophia was surprised to see an unfamiliar gig being led to the stables.
“A visitor?” Ben asked as he noticed her frown.
“It would seem so,” she replied, trying to recall if anyone had mentioned expecting callers today.
He made quick work of lifting her from the curricle, and insisted on escorting her into the house, though Sophia was quite certain she could make it on her own.
“I took Mrs. Primble’s admonishment quite seriously,” he told her with a grin. “It’s not every day I’m raked over the coals for risking a young lady’s health. Not many people will dare question a vicar’s behavior. Unless he behaves very, very badly.”
At the twinkle in his eye, Sophia found herself imagining just the sort of situation in which Ben might do so. Perhaps Freddie wasn’t the only charming Lisle brother, she reflected.
Just then, as she handed her hat and gloves to a waiting Greaves, she heard raised voices from the front parlor just off the entry hall.
“Who’s visiting, Greaves?” she asked the butler, who looked none too pleased at the din in the next room.
“A gentleman came to see Miss Gemma,” he said with a moue of distaste. “Only he didn’t ask for Miss Gemma Hastings, but G.E. Hastings.”
Not waiting for further explanation, Sophia moved toward the parlor, followed closely by Ben. Greaves gave a sharp knock on the door before opening it on a tableau of a man and woman in combative stance.
Her sister, her arms akimbo, was scowling as if she’d like to toss the gentleman out on his ear.
While the gentleman, in travel-worn garments, and sporting a head of familiar-looking light brown curls, looked equally put out.
Behind her, she heard Ben give a groan. “Cam, what the devil are you doing here?”
* * *
Ben wasn’t sure who he’d expected to find exchanging heated words with Gemma Hastings, but it certainly wasn’t his brother Cameron.
But, rather than admit that, yes, it was unusual for him to be in Beauchamp House, let alone Little Seaford in general, Cam did what he always did and turned the question around. “I might ask you the same thing, Ben. Are you acquainted with this … this…” he gestured to Gemma with a rare bout of speechlessness then found the word he was looking for, “… harpy?”
Beside him, Ben felt Sophia stiffen, while Gemma made a noise that was something between a snort and a howl. “You, sirrah, are a boor and a scoundrel and I will thank you to take yourself out of this house at once!”
“How do you know this man?” Sophia asked both Gemma and Ben.
When it appeared that Gemma wasn’t ready to speak, Ben did so. “This rapscallion, who has clearly lost every bit of the social graces drilled into us at our mother’s knee, is my brother, Lord Cameron Lisle.”
Having calmed down a bit, Cameron had the good grace to look sheepish at Ben’s reminder of social niceties. Bowing prettily, he said to Sophia with a grin that was not unlike Freddie’s, “At your service, ma’am.”
“This is Miss Sophia Hastings,” Ben said tersely. “Miss Gemma Hastings’ sister.”
Cameron’s light blue eyes glanced from one sister to the other, then back again. Finally able to see the resemblance.
“Ah,” he said, infusing the syllable with a great deal of feeling.
Pulling away from Ben, Sophia limped over to her sister, brandishing her walking stick with a bit more force than he thought entirely necessary. Still, heeding the warning, Cameron stepped away from the sisters to stand near the window where he could see the room at large. He’d once told Ben it was a trick he’d picked up in his travels, to ensure that he could never be taken by surprise. Clearly he was more unnerved by the Hastings sisters than he was letting on.
“What made you think it was acceptable for you to upbraid my sister in her own home, my lord?” Displeasure dripped from her every word. Ben had never seen Sophia in protective mode, but he had a feeling that, if necessary, she’d toss his brother bodily from the room.
It was quite exhilarating.
He was p
repared to back up her question with one of his own if Cam proved recalcitrant, but to his secret amusement, his brother’s ears reddened under Sophia’s gimlet gaze and he looked as if his cravat had suddenly tightened itself.
“I … ah … it was badly done of me, Miss Hastings,” he said, flags of red in his cheeks. “I’m afraid I lost my temper and…”
He was interrupted by a lusty sigh from Gemma, who was also looking sheepish. “It wasn’t entirely his fault, Sophia. When I found out who he was I couldn’t contain my indignation and I’m afraid I let my temper get the best of me.”
Sophia’s reddish brows lowered. “Well, I wish you would inform us just who Lord Cameron is besides Lord Benedick’s brother, for I must confess, I find myself quite at a loss.”
Then, as if she could no longer stand to be on her feet, she moved to collapse into an overstuffed chair near the fireplace. When neither Gemma nor Cam spoke up, she said, “Well?”
Ben went to stand beside Sophia’s chair and watched as his brother and Gemma exchanged a series of looks that clearly were full of import. But it was in a language he had no idea how to translate. Finally, Gemma walked over to the chair beside Sophia’s and sat.
“You recall I told you about the article I submitted to the Annals of Natural History, the one that was rejected?” Gemma addressed her sister without looking at either of the men in the room.
“Oh,” Sophia said, almost without thinking. Then, understanding dawned and she said again, with a wide-eyed look toward her sister, “Oooooh!”
Next she turned her narrowed eyes on Cam, and unless Ben was very much mistaken, his brother had made an enemy of both Hastings sisters at this point. If looks could kill, Cam would, at the very least, be mortally wounded.
“So, this is the narrow minded cloth-head who refused to publish your findings?” she asked Gemma, aghast.
“I say,” Cameron objected. Though whether it was to being called narrow minded or a cloth-head, Ben couldn’t tell. “I gave it the same sort of evaluation as I give every submission. It was interesting, but not particularly groundbreaking.”
“Oh, I’m sure you gave it the same sort of evaluation as you give every article written by a female that crosses your desk,” Gemma said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you read only the first three paragraphs before tossing it aside.”
Before they could embark on another round of arguments over the paper, Ben broke in with the question that had been plaguing him. “We know now what set you at loggerheads, but why are you here, Cameron? In this house. Arguing with Gemma in person? Could this not have simply been settled by mail?”
At that, Gemma turned bright red.
Sophia turned to stare at her sister. “Gemma, what did you do?”
“You recall you told me I should write a letter to the editor who rejected me?” Gemma asked, looking as if she would rather be anywhere but in this room.
“Two letters,” Sophia said. “Yes. One saying how you really felt, and the other more calm and thoughtful.”
Gemma nodded and Ben saw dawning horror on Sophia’s face. “You sent him the angry one?!”
“I got them mixed up!” Gemma said heatedly. “This is what comes of listening to your advice about writing two letters! Any other sane person would write one angry letter, tear it up and then think about something else.”
“I was trying to help you make a case for yourself,” Sophia said, hectic color in her cheeks. “When ladies are attempting to enter fields that are traditionally male, it sometimes takes a bit of persuasion to convince the male establishment to accept them.”
“If my findings weren’t enough to make him accept me,” Gemma said tightly, “then maybe it’s not a field I want to be a part of.”
Not liking the sight of the two sisters, usually so supportive of one another, at odds, Ben asked tentatively, “Surely this letter can’t have been all that upsetting, Cameron. You’ve been to the ends of the earth, for heaven’s sake. You’ve been insulted by people all over the world.”
His brother raised a brow. “You make me sound like the most delightful fellow, Ben. But, to correct you, yes this letter was all that upsetting. Miss Hastings called into question everything from my virility to my intelligence to my ability to sit a horse. I came here because she signed it with her initials only so I thought she was a man. I came to challenge this G.E. Hastings.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “What?”
Sophia turned to her sister. “I thought you said he knew you were a lady when he rejected your paper.”
Gemma shrugged. “I send out papers under both my real name and with only my initials. I assumed this one was under my real name because it was a rejection.”
“Gemma.” The censure in Sophia’s voice couldn’t have been more shame-inducing if she’s been a fifty-year-old governess. “You called this poor man all manner of names without cause.”
“I’m not an imbecile.” Gemma said the words grudgingly. Then, to Cameron, she said, “It was badly done of me. I should have checked to see if you knew I was a lady or not. I realize now that my letter didn’t really state my reasons that the paper should be published, but was rather a series of insults and epithets loosely strung together.”
“How did he even receive it?” Sophia asked. “You only told me about the letter yesterday. It hasn’t had enough time to reach Oxford. Or Cambridge. Or wherever it is Lord Cameron resides.”
At that Cameron looked a bit rueful. “I’ve actually been in Lyme these past few months. That was the direction I gave on my letter to G.E. Hastings.”
“Mrs. Tompkins said she’d have her son deliver it since he had plans to go to Lyme this morning,” Gemma agreed stiffly.
Ben turned to his brother in astonishment. “You’ve been living just down the coast for months and never once came to see me?”
“I’m here now,” Cameron said with a shrug. “Besides, you know how village life gets under my skin. I know hardly anyone in Lyme aside from the people I employ to help me search for fossils. If I came here you’d have me introduced to the entire village within a few days and I’d have no peace.”
Despite his annoyance at his brother’s avoidance of him, Ben couldn’t help but admit that he had a good point. It was a vicar’s job, in part, to know his parish. And he would very likely have had Cameron meeting and greeting the whole of the village if given the chance. He also had to admit that he would have done so in part to take some of the pressure off himself from the local matchmaking mamas.
“Fine,” he said with a shake of his head.
“So, you came here to confront G.E. Hastings?” Sophia asked, a glint of amusement in her eyes now. It was, after one got past the initial alarm of the scene they’d walked in on, an amusing scenario.
“Yes,” said Cameron with a grin. “And not only was G.E. a lady, but she’s got a sharper tongue than a Billingsgate fishwife.”
“Gemma.” Sophia’s sigh this time was exasperated.
“I was angry, Soph,” her sister responded. “You know how I get when I’m angry.”
Seeing that the worst of the storm had passed, Ben turned to Sophia. “Perhaps some tea?”
With a sigh that was half exhaustion half amusement, she gestured to the bell pull. “By all means.”
Chapter 13
The Lisle brothers did not stay for luncheon, given that Lord Cameron and Gemma were still at odds, their tacit agreement to stop shouting notwithstanding.
Unfortunately for Sophia, this meant that much of the discussion amongst the Beauchamp heiresses—Kerr and Maitland having left that morning for London to take care of business matters—was of the sudden abundance of Lisles in their small part of the county. Not that she was an authority on the subject. It was just that her friends seemed to see her as some sort of window into the minds of the Lisles.
“I suppose it’s not that unusual for the vicar’s brothers to visit him,” Ivy said as she picked up her soup spoon. “It’s
just the appearance of two of them separately at around the same time. Don’t you agree, Sophia? What does Benedick say?”
“I am hardly the man’s confidante,” Sophia said with frown. “We are working together on the matter of a possible forger, and he was kind enough to take my side against Mr. Morgan, but it’s not as if we have spent hours together discussing our feelings.”
“You must have talked about something on the drive to and from Primrose Green this morning,” Daphne said, tilting her blond head in that questioning way she had. Normally Sophia found it endearing, but today it had the opposite effect.
“You seemed quite friendly when you burst in on Lord Cameron and me,” Gemma offered with a shrug.
She wasn’t sure why, but Sophia felt cornered, and she didn’t care for it at all.
“I wasn’t expecting the Spanish Inquisition,” she said tartly. “Would you like to go get the thumbscrews, Daphne? I’ll wait.”
Ivy bit back a laugh. “My goodness, it would appear that someone is sensitive over the subject of our handsome vicar.”
“I am nothing of the sort,” Sophia said crossly. “I simply do not enjoy being interrogated by my friends. And my sister. We didn’t quiz you when you were suddenly going off with Lord Kerr on various errands alone.”
“But that implies that your errands with the vicar are of a similar nature,” Daphne said triumphantly. At Sophia’s scowl, she added with a shrug, “It’s logic. You cannot argue with logic, Sophia.”
“Can we not just enjoy our meal without discussing the vicar, or his brothers, or your sudden baseless speculations about the nature of my friendship with him?” It was odd even to Sophia that she was so overset by their teasing. She only knew that whatever it was she had with Ben was new enough to be fragile and might not stand up to the harsh light of day. And aside from that, she had other things to worry about. Ensuring that the most important work of her life was part of the exhibition. Perhaps then she would think about whatever it was she and the vicar had been tiptoeing around.
Besides. She’d seen enough infatuations of a few days’ duration to know that it was far too soon to think about Ben in those terms. For all she knew, he’d meet the love of his life when he was paying calls in the village and not give her a second thought.
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