“Do,” Artemis said, her tone conspiratorial. “We might cross paths with Mr. Hughes.”
That perked Lillian up on the instant. “Truly?”
Artemis gave her a cursory nod but kept her attention on Ellie. “He told me he enjoyed your brief conversation yesterday at the Pump Room.”
“I enjoyed his company as well.” It wasn’t a lie—he was amiable, and she hadn’t disliked their interaction. But it had been too brief for her to have truly formed an opinion of him. Still, she knew the role she was meant to play. “Will he be at the Dress Ball also, do you suppose?”
Miss Mullins nodded. “As will Mr. Charlie Jonquil.” She traded looks with Miss Phelps. “So, so handsome.”
Artemis held her peace because no one else shared her opinion of Mr. Jonquil.
“Have you ever seen all seven of the Jonquil brothers together?” Miss Mullins flipped open her fan and flicked it back and forth, creating a quick, utilitarian breeze. “No woman should be expected to form a coherent thought when faced with so overwhelmingly beautiful a sight as that.”
Mother found her voice at last. “Will he be on the Gravel Walk this afternoon, do you suppose? I have hoped our Ellie might make his better acquaintance.”
“He and Mr. Hughes are friends,” Artemis said. “They may very well be together.”
Ellie began to say something that might move her mother’s thoughts away from Mr. Jonquil, but a subtle shake of Artemis’s head told her not to.
“We had best make our way there,” Miss Mullins said. “Do come, Ellie.”
Ellie looked to her mother and received permission.
“Do not forget yourself and become disagreeable or forward,” Mother whispered as Ellie passed. “And do what you can to speak of your sister to Mr. Hughes without it seeming pointed or forced.”
Ellie nodded, though she didn’t intend to do any such thing.
“And attempt to claim at least a moment of Mr. Jonquil’s attention, despite his . . . options in this group.”
Ellie offered another disingenuous nod and hurried after her new friends, slipping happily from the house.
“How did we do, Artemis?” Miss Phelps asked.
“Brilliantly,” she said. “Even if you did go on and on in that ridiculous fashion about Charlie Jonquil.”
Miss Mullins and Miss Phelps exchanged delighted looks with Ellie. They obviously found Artemis’s enmity entertaining.
They walked in a clump in the direction of the Gravel Walk. It was a fashionable place to be seen. Ellie had been there once on this trip to Bath, but as she had undertaken the jaunt with her mother and sister, they had not precisely made a splash.
“Artemis told us about your scheme,” Miss Mullins said. “I do hope you will allow us to join in the diversion. I believe you will find we are excellent co-conspirators.”
“I would be delighted to have you join in, Miss Mullins. And you too, of course, Miss Phelps.”
Artemis laughed. “There’s none of that Miss So-and-So amongst us. The Huntresses are on a Christian-name basis.”
“Huntresses?”
Artemis nodded quite solemnly. “My ancient namesake had a band of huntresses, and they were absolutely everything young ladies ought to be permitted to be: fierce, strong, capable, and entirely in control of their own destinies. We mean to emulate them in every way possible.”
“Including the part where they murder people who sneak into their ranks unwelcome?” Ellie asked.
“Especially that part,” Artemis said with a grin.
Ellie did not actually think they meant to murder anyone. But their fearless leader clearly found the comparison entertaining.
“Miss Phelps is Gillian,” Artemis said. “And Miss Mullins is Daria.”
“Ellie,” she said to them both.
They walked on, reaching the Gravel Walk at last. The tree-strewn path was far from empty. Strolling about with these three fashionable young ladies made her far more the center of attention than she was accustomed to being.
Lillian would be in a fury if she could see her younger sister meandering along the shaded walk, being looked at with admiration while she herself had been denied the opportunity. When Lillian was denied the things she wished for, she could have something of a temper. Ellie didn’t wish for Mr. Hughes to be cornered into a match that would render him at the mercy of an unpredictable and, at times, unpleasant disposition. He was personable, kind, and so quiet. What a mismatch that would be.
“Now, our difficulty is attempting to spot the two gentlemen we are hoping to see,” Gillian said.
Daria had an easy answer for that. “We simply pay attention to which direction every lady’s eye turns. That would undoubtedly lead us to Mr. Jonquil, and Mr. Hughes will most certainly be with him. Easy as can be.”
Though Artemis appeared a bit annoyed at the rationale, she did not argue with the strategy. Mere moments later, it proved ingenious. Heads were indeed turning as Mr. Jonquil ambled along. Ellie had met only one of his older brothers—the earl—when he had come to the little neighborhood for Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster’s wedding. He was very fine looking as well. She could only imagine the effects of seven such attractive gentlemen all gathered together.
Mr. Hughes was perhaps not as stunningly handsome, but he was quite pleasant in his own way. Quiet, subdued, with the look of one who listened closely and pondered deeply. He was less stately than many gentlemen of the ton. He was also less overwhelming. That would make their ruse far easier to manage.
The two gentlemen greeted all four of them with the appropriate bows and words of welcome.
“I see the Huntresses have re-formed here in Bath.” Mr. Hughes looked to Charlie and explained. “Miss Lancaster and her cohorts are quite famous in Town.”
“Infamous?” Charlie spoke the incorrect echo with a look of feigned innocence.
Artemis did not rise to the bait but simply stood and waited.
Charlie turned his attention to Ellie. “Have you been conscripted, Miss Ellie?”
“I have joined the brigade willingly,” she said. “Unlike Mr. Hughes, who was most certainly conscripted.”
Newton smiled a little, more than he usually did but less obviously than most people. “My participation is entirely willing as well.”
“And are you terrified?” She allowed her enjoyment of their slightly absurd conversation to show, something she never permitted. Something her mother never permitted.
“On the contrary,” he said. “I find myself increasingly delighted.”
Ellie enjoyed being able to speak so openly and genuinely with someone without having to hide behind the facade her mother had invented for her. During the time she spent with Newton, she would be permitted the freedom to be herself in a way she seldom was.
The group continued on, Daria walking beside Charlie, Artemis and Gillian forming a second grouping, and Ellie and Newton walking side-by-side.
“If we are to make our scheme believable,” Newton said, “we would be well advised to learn a little about each other.”
“I agree,” Ellie said.
“What would you like to know about me?” he asked.
Ellie didn’t have a ready answer. Young ladies were not permitted to be so forward as that. Mother’s warning echoed in her ears, but she pushed it aside. Worrying about disobeying Mother on that matter seemed rather ridiculous when she was disobeying in a much larger way.
“Allow me to begin,” Newton said. “It may be easier that way.”
Ellie nodded her agreement. They passed under a particularly large tree, its expansive branches creating a pattern of dappled light on everything beneath it.
“How old are you?” Newton asked.
Ellie found she could almost laugh. It was such basic information, yet they didn’t know that about each other. “I am nearly nineteen.�
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“I am recently turned twenty-one,” he said. “I have also recently finished my time in Cambridge.”
“I am afraid I cannot claim an alma mater,” Ellie said. “I did attempt to slip past the gates of Oxford and gain entry, but it seems my dress and bonnet gave me away. I was tossed out quite unceremoniously.”
Far from being horrified at her ridiculousness, Newton laughed. The laughter did her a world of good. Comments such as the one she had just made had earned her any number of punishments and lectures from her parents. He, however, seemed to appreciate her.
“And what do you mean to do now that you have finished your time at University?” Ellie asked.
“That depends entirely upon whom you ask.”
“Do you always answer questions with riddles?”
He smiled, again that barely discernible smile. “The sad result of not enough practice, I suppose.”
“I have noticed your tendency to keep your peace,” she said.
A little hesitation entered his expression. “Do you consider such to be a failing?”
She adjusted her arm, set in the crook of his, so she walked a touch closer. “Not a failing at all.”
He did not speak again for several long moments, but it was not an uncomfortable silence nor an offended one. Though nothing about him changed outwardly, Ellie felt certain he was more relaxed, more at ease.
“What are these varying views on your post-University pursuits?” she asked.
“My father is determined that I will be a gentleman of leisure, whiling away my life with overtly gentlemanly pursuits and living off the wealth he has so carefully guarded and accumulated.”
There was one opinion from one parent. “And according to your mother?”
“I will marry a young lady of tremendous standing in Society—at the moment, she is in agreement with my father’s choice of Miss Lancaster—and then proceed to those very gentlemanly pursuits.”
Ellie stepped carefully around a partially protruding tree root in the path. “Your mother will realize my family claims an insignificant place in Society, and with a little effort, she will come to know just how minuscule my dowry is. Will this ruse we are enacting cause you a great deal of difficulty?”
“I am not inexperienced with the ‘difficulty’ inherent in being lectured by my parents. I assure you, I can endure it again.”
“My mother is fond of lecturing as well,” she said. “While my father doesn’t participate, he also does not ever defend me.”
Newton set his hand atop hers. “I am sorry to hear that.”
She didn’t know how much of the kind gesture was sincere and how much was for the benefit of those watching—they were co-conspirators in a plot, after all—but she was grateful, just the same. Enduring her mother’s dictates and demands and her father’s complacency had been a lonely burden.
“You have not addressed the matter of what you wish to do with your life now that you’ve finished at Cambridge.” What would his thoughts on the matter be?
“If I had my way, I would immediately attach myself to an Inn of Court and study the law in order to pursue a career as a barrister.”
She could easily picture him acting in that role. His appeared to be a methodical mind, and heaven knew he possessed a calm and deliberate demeanor. “Your parents object to this plan?”
“Quite vociferously.”
“Parents are such a painful form of torture at times,” she said. “They are forever placing a person in the untenable position of deciding between being true to oneself and keeping the peace.”
“And it is an uncomfortable outcome either way.”
They walked on awhile. He did not demand conversation nor agreement. He did not look down on her for behaving in a more forceful manner than her parents were comfortable with. And he was kind. Of all the people Artemis might’ve suggested she could pretend to be courted by, he was proving a good choice.
She began to believe she just might survive this stay in Bath.
Barely.
Chapter Six
“Unfortunately, my sister-in-law is a decent person.” Artemis rolled her eyes with the theatrical air that Newton had discovered was near constant with her. She turned to Charlie standing nearby and held up a single finger as if to scold him. “Not a word from you, Charles.”
Charlie held up his hands in a show of feigned innocence. These two never stopped nipping at each other. Newton found it simultaneously entertaining and a little tiring.
Artemis continued. “Despite my pleadings, my uncooperative family has invited the Nappers to this evening’s gathering. I, being the intelligent one, suggested we limit the invitation to only Ellie.”
The two young ladies had become fast friends. Newton could understand why. Artemis was a lark. Ellie was a joy.
“Lillian will be here,” Artemis said, “which will likely make things a little uncomfortable for you, Newton. I don’t doubt you know how to navigate this particular quagmire, but I regret that you have to.”
“Is that not the reason for our scheme?”
Artemis smiled mischievously. “Oh yes. I haven’t the least doubt it will help, but we are so early in our plan that the scheme will not do you as much good as it will in a few more weeks.”
Newton nodded, not overly worried.
“Mr. Napper is relatively harmless but only because he is relatively uninvolved this time. He had plenty to say when Lillian was pursuing”—her eyes darted to Charlie—“less exalted options.”
“No argument from me,” Charlie said. “Newton’s a far better catch than I’ll ever be.”
“Truer words were never spoken.” Artemis turned once more to Newton. “Mr. Napper will cause you few headaches. Mrs. Napper is another matter entirely.”
“She’s not likely to be put off the scent?”
Artemis shook her head. “We can certainly outsmart her on that score. I worry far more about her treatment of Ellie. Mrs. Napper is not kind to her. And when Ellie is in company with her mother, she’s a different person: coerced into near silence, withdrawn in a way that speaks of duress.”
“Is that why she was so different during our promenade yesterday than she was at the Fancy Ball?” Charlie asked. “I found the change in her confusing.”
Artemis sighed. “The Nappers were our neighbors when I still lived in the Lancaster family home. I didn’t know Lillian and Ellie well then—I moved away when I was still quite young—but on all of my visits since, I have found myself utterly exasperated with Mrs. Napper. Parents ought not despise the person their child is, but she has always seemed to dislike Ellie, or at least disapprove of her.”
“That is, unfortunately, not an uncommon affliction.” Newton knew all too well how it felt to have one’s parents wish he were different than he actually was.
“Would we do best to speak on her behalf or ignore it?” Charlie asked. “I wouldn’t wish to make things worse for Miss Ellie. But listening to a lady being harangued and not stepping in goes entirely against my nature.”
Newton smiled at his friend. “You Jonquils never can resist helping someone in need.”
“A trait I inherited from my father.”
“I’ve met your mother,” Newton said. “I can say with absolute certainty that you inherited that from her as well.”
Charlie smiled fondly and, if Newton didn’t miss his mark, a little sadly. Charlie longed for his mother’s company when he was away from home, though he had been loath to admit it while they were still at school. The other boys had taken great delight in teasing him over his deep attachment to his mother during their years at Eton. However, few of them understood the enormous pain he felt at having lost his father before he’d even begun his first year there.
Artemis’s expression had also softened. She knew Charlie’s mother, after all. No one who had ever me
t the Dowager Countess of Lampton felt anything but deep admiration for her, and she treated everyone with sincere kindness.
Mr. Lancaster stepped into the drawing room. He bore a striking resemblance to his younger sister, both boasting golden curls and startlingly green eyes. He was also every bit as witty and quick with a jest as she was. Newton had enjoyed coming to know them both. He enjoyed their company better than his own parents’.
“Henson tells me our guests are beginning to arrive,” Mr. Lancaster said.
“Oh, how I wish I’d been present to hear how he told you,” Artemis said.
Mr. Lancaster laughed. “He regularly sends my Arabella into fits of laughter, though I suspect he doesn’t mean to. I’ll keep him on forever if it means seeing her so happy.”
Newton dreamed of a marriage like theirs, built on love and adoration and mutual happiness. How could his parents not want that for him?
Newton’s parents arrived within the next few minutes, followed by the Nappers and the Mullins. That, as it turned out, was the extent of the guest list. Mother was quite felicitous toward Artemis. Mrs. Napper worked herself into something of a frenzy attempting to show equal attention to both Charlie and Newton. The elder Miss Napper never seemed more than a few feet away from him. And Artemis did her utmost to slip free of his mother and pull him and Ellie near enough for conversation and interaction.
It was the most ridiculous dance.
Charlie, of all people, proved the most adept. After nearly an hour, he announced to the gathering “an excellent idea” for making the most of the evening. “Those of us unattached and without wisdom wrought from life experience”—he motioned subtly with his head toward the older, married set—“would feel simply awful if we disrupted the, no doubt, important conversations occurring around us. Might I suggest that Miss Lancaster, Mr. Hughes, the Misses Napper, the younger Mr. Mullins, Miss Mullins, and I form our own little party and take up a parlor game?”
An excellent idea, indeed.
Artemis wasted not a moment grasping the opportunity. “Oh, please, could we play short answer?”
The Best-Laid Plans Page 4
