Charlie shrugged, apparently not overly worried about which game was chosen. Artemis’s suggestion was taken up by the others. Short answer was a relatively simply game but a challenging one, just the same. Each participant would, in turn, ask a question, and the person to his or her right would be required to answer it in a single syllable. No one was permitted to ask a question already posed nor choose an answer already given.
They were soon situated on one side of the drawing room, occupying chairs gathered in a circle. If not for the Mullins siblings—Tobias and Daria—they would never have managed to arrange the seven of them such that no one was seated beside the person who was being thrust upon them by well-meaning parents while still making certain Newton and Ellie sat beside one another. The arrangement would help with the impression they were trying to make, but Newton also looked forward to watching her play this fast-paced game of quick answers and witty questions. The Ellie he’d met at the Fancy Ball would have been rubbish at it. The Ellie who’d persuaded him to take part in her plot would likely triumph over them all.
“What will be the forfeit for a participant whose answer breaks the rules?” Miss Napper asked.
“Elimination,” Artemis said. “For that particular round, at least. We will narrow down the participants until we have a champion of each round. The person who is champion the most will be declared monarch of the evening.”
“Monarch?” Ellie grinned. “I hope that comes with an unhealthy degree of unmitigated power.”
“Ellie, do show some decorum,” Miss Napper said quietly but not quietly enough. The circle was small. No one was far from anyone else.
“I suggest Miss Lancaster begin,” Tobias said. “The game was her suggestion.”
Artemis accepted the invitation with an eager grace. She turned to Charlie. “Which county is your favorite?”
A difficult question to answer according to the rules. Were there any counties in the kingdom that had one-syllable names? Newton’s mind spun, trying to remember them all.
With no more than a moment’s thought, Charlie answered. “Kent.” He, then, turned to Daria. “What sort of evening are we having tonight?”
“Grand,” Daria answered quickly.
Charlie smiled at her, apparently pleased to have not bested her. Daria, blushing more than a little, turned her attention to Newton, who sat at her right. “When, sir, do you think is the best time to pose a difficult question?”
“Now.” He turned to Ellie with a grin. She, diverting lady that she was, made a show of being nervous. “Pray, Miss Ellie, how do you fare this evening?”
With an arching of her eyebrow, she said, “Fair.” Excellent wordplay.
She turned to her sister, the next to receive a question. “Which dance do you dance best?”
Lillian’s eyes darted about as she thought. She needed a few moments but managed an answer relatively quickly. “Reel.”
As Lillian turned to Tobias to pose her question, Ellie leaned toward Newton. “I was so hoping she would stumble on waltz first and blurt that out before she could stop herself.”
The waltz was quite new and, as it was danced with the gentleman’s arm wrapped rather intimately around the lady’s middle, was considered scandalous. Newton came surprisingly close to laughing, something he seldom did in company.
By the time the game had wound its way back to Newton, Daria had been eliminated.
Newton knew the perfect question to pose to Ellie. “Which dance would you be most likely to offer to teach a stranger?”
Charlie and Artemis laughed out loud. Ellie grinned. He had caught her in the very trap she’d set for her sister. This time, though, she could not give “reel” as an answer; that answer had already been used.
She, however, was not the least rattled. “None.”
Oh, she was clever.
Ellie turned to Lillian. “Which of the Jonquil brothers is the most handsome?”
Newton pressed his lips closed to hold back a grin. None of the brothers had a one-syllable name, and Lillian could not answer “None,” as Ellie had already used that response. “All” would be a workable answer, but Lillian would likely worry that she would give offense to Charlie. The answers were not meant to be necessarily correct, simply possible. And, of course, quite short.
Lillian’s expression turned quickly from ponderous to frustrated and defensive. “That is an unfair question. It cannot be answered, as you are well aware.”
“I believe you have exceeded the syllable limit.” Ellie’s tone was merry but not mocking.
Her sister only grew more upset.
Charlie jumped to the rescue. “You can rejoin in the next round,” he said kindly. “Perhaps we’ll ask questions in the other direction, and you can ask a question your sister cannot answer.”
Despite having been offered a means of keeping her dignity intact, Lillian simply sat in unhappy silence.
One by one, everyone was eliminated except for Newton and Ellie. For the first time, she posed a question to him. “If you hadn’t a rose near to hand, which flower would you offer a young lady?”
A one-syllable flower. But not a rose. He could think of any number of plants, even flowering trees, but no true flowers. He could not say “None” or “All,” both having been used already.
Ellie watched him with dancing, happy eyes. She was so clearly enjoying herself. This glimpse of the real Ellie was delightful. Utterly so.
If he hadn’t roses near to hand, which flower would he offer her?
“Whichever flower she prefers.”
Though the answer lost him the game, it gained him a sweet and appreciative smile, one he hoped to see again.
The evening continued on, and the group played game after game of short answer. The undertaking was filled with laughter and teasing, clever questions, and equally clever answers. Only once was Newton able to outwit Ellie, while she caught him out twice. More impressive still, she managed once to confound Charlie, and Newton had never met that man’s intellectual equal.
The more he learned of Ellie Napper, the more he liked her.
Chapter Seven
“While I hate to admit that Artemis is correct about anything,” Charlie said, “her strategy for today is bang on. We’d do best to stick to it.”
Newton nodded. They were on their way to call on the Napper sisters. Charlie, who had been designated by Ellie’s parents as their choice for her, would show equal and neutral attention to both ladies. Newton, who had been selected for Lillian, would give notably more attention to Ellie while not giving the impression of an active, determined courtship. It was a narrow ledge to navigate but one that would save all of them a great deal of misery if they managed it.
Their knock was answered by a staid and respectable butler. Today was the Napper ladies’ at-home day, and thus, Charlie and Newton were not required to wait to see how their cards were received. They were ushered into the drawing room, where a small gathering of ladies—young, old, and otherwise—were conversing reservedly.
Mrs. Napper welcomed them with a mixture of enthusiasm and almost painful decorum. “Do come sit with the girls.” She motioned the both of them to chairs near her daughters.
Newton moved directly to the one nearest Ellie, but Mrs. Napper stopped him.
“You are welcome to sit here, Mr. Hughes.” She indicated a seat closer to Lillian.
“I thank you,” he said, “but I would not wish to give Miss Ellie the impression that I do not wish to take the seat I was aiming for, as that would seem a slight against her. No gentleman would wish to so mistreat a lady.”
Her mother clearly wasn’t certain how to contradict that.
Ellie spoke up. “You are so kind, Mr. Hughes. Thank you for sparing my feelings. I would, of course, be honored to have you sit near me.”
He dipped his head. “The honor is all mi
ne, Miss Ellie.”
Newton caught Charlie’s eye as he lowered himself into the chair. Had he done too much? Ought he not to have offered so much praise or been so vocal about sitting next to her in particular? But Charlie nodded subtly, encouragingly.
They were all situated, and the conversations around the room resumed. Ellie turned to Newton almost immediately. “I’ve thought of an answer to the one question you baffled me with during the games of short answer.”
She had stumbled over only one of the questions he’d asked her during that game: Which of the King’s children is most pleasant? It had been both a bit tongue-in-cheek, requiring that she imply the other princes and princesses were poor company, and all but impossible to answer. “George” had been given as an answer already in that round, and none of the others had one-syllable Christian names. “Kent” and “York” had also been used, eliminating her ability to refer to those of the children whose titles were but one syllable. The usual fallbacks—“none,” “all,” etc.—had also been unavailable.
“And what answer have you to give now?” he asked, truly intrigued.
“Tous.”
For just a moment, he wasn’t certain what she’d said. But then the genius of it became clear. “Tous,” he repeated. “French for ‘all.’”
She smiled broadly, a laugh in her eyes. “Once I realized we had not specifically barred answers already given in English if given in another language, the answer became clear.”
“You’ve been pondering this ever since being denied victory?”
“I’m not Napoleon; I do not surrender.”
It was all he could do not to laugh out loud in such a sedate and quiet gathering as this.
“Do you not agree, Mr. Hughes?” Lillian addressed her question to him without the slightest context.
He looked to her, confused. The expectation in her expression told him quite clearly that she was attempting to draw him into her conversation and felt quite certain of her success despite his currently being engaged in a conversation with her sister.
“Agree with what, precisely, Miss Napper?”
She gave him the same coy smile she had again and again. “You never do listen, do you?”
“On the contrary, I am generally considered a good listener.”
Ellie leaned forward, joining the discussion. “I have found you to be precisely that, Mr. Hughes.”
Lillian shot her sister a look that sent the younger lady scooting back and abandoning the conversation.
“We were saying that at-home hours are not always enjoyable for those of us in the younger set,” Lillian said. “Civility, of course, requires us to behave and not make our displeasure apparent, but I am certain each of us would far rather promenade on the Gravel Walk at the moment than sit here pretending to not be utterly bored.”
“I cannot argue with that,” Newton said.
“I have an excellent idea.” Lillian looked from Newton to Charlie and back again several times. “We should promenade. I am certain my mother will not object, and it would be a lovely way to pass the afternoon. The weather is fine, and I am certain many of our friends will be out doing precisely that.”
Newton looked to Ellie, intending to defer to her. Lillian, however, jumped ahead.
“Mother,” she said, interrupting, apparently without concern, the conversation occurring just beyond their little circle. “These kind gentlemen have invited us to promenade along the Gravel Walk with them. May we, please?”
That was not at all an accurate recounting of things.
Charlie quickly salvaged the situation. “It is the hour when most people meander. We would be honored to accompany your daughters, if that is what they wish.”
Perfectly managed, that. He’d offered no insult and no direct contradiction while still making it clear that they had not, in fact, proposed the idea and nor were they the ones who fancied the arrangement. Brilliant. Newton wished he had even half Charlie Jonquil’s social prowess.
“As we would not wish to cast any aspersions on your daughters’ characters,” Charlie continued, “I would request that a maid be provided.”
Lillian objected, leaning a bit toward Newton as she did. “I am certain that is not necessary. You are gentlemen in every sense, and I feel quite safe with both of you.”
“We insist,” Newton said.
For just a moment, Lillian seemed speechless. She finally settled on, “How considerate.”
Through it all, Ellie didn’t say a word. The moment her sister had interrupted, she’d grown quiet. Once her mother had been pulled into the discussion, Ellie’s eyes had dropped to her clasped hands, a shrinking posture not unlike her display at the first ball they’d both attended.
“Allow us a moment to fetch our wraps,” Lillian said.
Apparently, the excursion was moving forward despite Mrs. Napper’s not having actually given her approval. Ellie, Newton, and Charlie were meant to participate, but not one of them had shown any enthusiasm. Lillian was not one to be distracted from her purpose.
“Ellie.” Lillian pushed her sister’s whispered name through clenched teeth. “We need to fetch our wraps.”
“Oh, am I invited on your promenade?” Though she asked the question demurely, there was a hint of cheek in the question.
“Elfrida.” Mrs. Napper’s tone was not the least subtle or gentle.
Even that tiny hint of fire Ellie had shown when addressing her sister disappeared. She rose, eyes still a bit lowered, and slipped from the room.
Newton and Charlie offered their hostess a quick farewell, indicating they would bring the sisters home after the outing.
They made their way to the front vestibule to wait for the young ladies’ return and stood in pointedly awkward silence. Charlie never had objected to Newton’s preference for quiet. The discomfort in that moment grew, rather, out of displeasure over the task forced upon them and, at least on Newton’s part, irritation with Mrs. Napper’s treatment of Ellie.
The sisters returned quickly, their wool wraps around their shoulders and bonnets atop their heads.
“One of the maids has received leave from the housekeeper to accompany us.” Lillian made the declaration with the authority of the mistress of the house rather than the daughter of the estate. One could not argue against her sense of confidence.
“Her name is Molly,” Ellie said. “She has a reliable sense of propriety but isn’t overly meddling. She’ll be just perfect.”
“Ellie, you mustn’t bore the gentlemen with details about the servants, for heaven’s sake.”
A war played out in Ellie’s expression. She clearly wished to rise to her own defense but was reluctant to do so.
“For my part, Miss Ellie,” Newton said, “I have never been bored by any conversation I have had with you.”
Her smile blossomed into a look of gratitude. “What a kind thing to say.”
“I am sincere. You are excellent company.” Newton offered her his arm as they moved toward the door. He was not merely playing a role; he genuinely looked forward to spending the length of the promenade with her.
Lillian eyed him as he passed with her sister. The lady was clearly not pleased. Charlie motioned her through the door. Manners would require him to, at some point, make the expected offering of his arm, but his slight delay would make certain Lillian didn’t simply switch targets.
By the time they reached the Gravel Walk, Charlie had maneuvered a four-wide arrangement, with Ellie between the two of them and Lillian on his other side. With a degree of acumen that was almost shocking, Charlie managed to pay equal attention to both sisters without giving even the tiniest hint of a preference. Newton was far enough removed from Lillian to prevent conversation, which was preferable.
“Miss Lancaster has insisted that I am to be numbered amongst the Huntresses when they descend upon London for
the Season.” Ellie grinned up at him. Utter joyfulness emanated from her. “I know you have spent a little time in Town for the social whirl. Are the Huntresses as mischievous in London as they have proven in Bath?”
“More so,” Newton said. “They turn heads, I will say that. And there are three you have not yet met.”
“Truly?” Eagerness grew in her expression. “Three more.” She blinked and shook her head. “But they aren’t actually scandalous?”
It was not a simple question to answer. “They earn a few tsks and raised eyebrows here and there, but none of them causes too much consternation. They are mostly viewed as amusingly unique.”
“They sound delightful,” Ellie said.
“They sound like trouble.” Lillian had, apparently, overheard.
“Like I said,” Ellie muttered under her breath.
Newton held back a laugh but only just.
“You should smile more often, Mr. Hughes,” Ellie said. “You are quite handsome when you do.”
“Ellie, do have some decorum.” Lillian sounded entirely horrified. “A lady simply does not say such things to a gentleman.”
“Decorum requires me to lie?”
Through tight lips, Lillian countered, “Decorum requires you to behave.”
Newton lowered his head a bit and his voice a lot. “Please don’t. I enjoy when you make a bit merry.”
She beamed once more. “No one has ever said that to me before.”
They kept their conversation quiet so as not to be overheard by Lillian.
“I’d wager our friend Miss Lancaster would agree that you are an enjoyable companion.”
Ellie took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I do hope I am able to join her in London. I’m not certain my parents will allow it. I am the youngest, after all.”
“If you are able to be in Town for the Season, I hope you will allow me to call on you and request that you stand up with me at any balls we might both attend. I would enjoy being granted your company again.”
She set her free hand on his arm, looking up at him with such a kind and pleased expression. “I do believe that is the most words I have heard from you at one time.”
The Best-Laid Plans Page 5
