The Best-Laid Plans

by Sarah M. Eden

  Ellie loved her sister; she truly did. But Lillian’s single-minded pursuit of an auspicious match was making her more and more difficult to live with.

  “I did not laugh as an intentional violation of propriety,” Ellie said. “My laughter caught me off guard, I assure you. Mr. Hughes said something quite diverting, and I couldn’t help myself.”

  Mother was not appeased by the explanation. “A lady with manners can always help herself.”

  “I am trying.” She suspected they would not believe her, but she had to at least attempt to defend herself. If only they knew how much she did keep back, how many things she didn’t say that would upset them. She was not an uncouth person. She didn’t do anything truly shocking, and even her minor missteps were unintentional. They simply had expectations that required her to be someone other than the person she actually was. Did they have any idea how exhausting that was?

  “I do not believe too much damage was done,” Father said. “Mr. Hughes did return and speak with us again that evening. Miss Lancaster returned again and again. Mr. Jonquil was also relatively solicitous. He is showing only the most impersonal interest in Ellie, though I cannot say I blame him.”

  Ellie bit back a response. Her father was again joining in the backhanded comments.

  “We might do best to abandon our ambitions where Mr. Jonquil is concerned.” Father tapped his chin with his fingers as he thought.

  Ellie inwardly sighed. They had managed one of their two goals. Charlie needn’t worry any longer about her family’s machinations. If only she could find a means of extricating Newton from Lillian’s increasingly talon-like grip.

  “Our only hope on that score,” Lillian said with clear bitterness in her voice, “is to rid ourselves of Ellie. Perhaps even send her home to Shropshire. Mr. Hughes spends more time speaking with her than he ought. And whenever they are in company, she never fails to do something to embarrass our family.”

  “I have heard all the finest families make a regular practice of ‘ridding themselves’ of their children,” Ellie said sarcastically. “Very refined of us.”

  Lillian shot her a look of frustrated disapproval.

  It was Mother, however, who spoke. “You have been the cause of enough difficulties, Elfrida. Do not add impertinence to your list of infractions.”

  When her family was put out with her, Ellie found it best to escape. Were she at home, she would simply go for a walk about the grounds or in the gardens. She hadn’t that luxury in Bath. Still, she knew how to make herself scarce.

  “Perhaps, Mother, you would feel it best if I go search up the ribbon you’ve been suggesting I get to retrim my bonnet. I would be out of your hair for a time, and you can discuss these important matters without me making them difficult.”

  “Take Molly with you,” Mother said. “A young lady wandering about on her own would cause even more whispers than we are already enduring.”

  Ellie nodded her agreement before taking her leave.

  Molly was always eager for any opportunity to be out of the house. Ellie couldn’t help thinking the chambermaid would have been happier at the country estate, where she would have far more opportunities for out of doors.

  Ellie had something in common with the soft-spoken maid, though different lives and experiences made it difficult to have a deep or personal conversation. They were limited to comments on the weather and observations about the fashions they saw around them.

  They reached the ribbon and trims shop. To Ellie’s great surprise, Artemis and the Huntresses were inside, perusing ribbons and laughing amongst themselves.

  Daria spotted her first. “Ellie.” She rushed over, followed quickly by Artemis and more sedately by Gillian. “We are well met.”

  “We are, indeed,” Ellie said. “Have you only just begun your shopping, or are you nearly done?”

  “This was our final stop,” Artemis said.

  “It is my only stop.”

  “Do join us,” Artemis said. “We’ll see you home again. And with all of us here, you won’t need a maid accompanying you.”

  Ellie looked to Molly. “You needn’t stay. When you return to the house, do kindly tell my parents that I’ve joined Miss Lancaster, Miss Mullins, and Miss Phelps?”

  The maid dipped a curtsy of acknowledgment. There was no missing the disappointment in her expression. Her escape hadn’t been long-lived.

  “If you’d care to make your way back slowly,” Ellie said conspiratorially, “I think that would be more than reasonable.”

  A bit of a smile touched her face. “Yes, Miss Ellie.” She left the shop with a renewed bounce in her step.

  “I have often wondered how desperate the servants in our homes are to have time away from us,” Gillian said.

  “I am often desperate to get away from my family,” Daria said with a light laugh. “I cannot imagine our servants feel any differently.”

  “I have a confession,” Ellie said. “I am here strictly because I was desperate for some time away from my family.”

  She received words of support and empathy. What a difference it would have made to have had friends such as these during her difficult growing-up years. She might not have spent so much time hiding and pretending and wondering if she would ever get to be the person she was.

  Artemis ran her fingers over a length of ribbon hanging from a rack above their heads. She lowered her voice. “Are they being unkind to you, Ellie?”

  “A little. They have given up on Charlie developing a tendre for me. That is a positive development. But they are upset that Newton isn’t showing more interest in Lillian.”

  Artemis nodded. “Lillian is likely equally unhappy about that?”

  “She is.”

  “Are they blaming you?”

  Ellie sighed. “Yes. My ‘untoward’ behavior is driving him away, they say. I’ve embarrassed them and him and am ruining absolutely everything.”

  Artemis eyed her a bit narrowly. “They aren’t upset at the possibility that you are . . . stealing him away from your sister?”

  She snorted. “I don’t think they consider me capable of turning any gentleman’s head, especially if Lillian hasn’t managed it.”

  “For what it is worth,” Artemis said, “I believe you have turned Newton’s head a little. He likes your company; I can see that he does.”

  “Truly?”

  “I cannot say precisely the leaning of his regard, but he does like spending time with you, no matter your family’s skepticism.”

  Ellie took comfort in that. Artemis was an expert in being whoever and whatever a situation demanded. She was the epitome of sweetness at certain matrons’ at-homes, then something of a harmless flirt when participating in parlor games with gentlemen their age, then a bit of a dragon when determined to get her way. Yet Ellie had no reason not to believe her in this moment. Artemis had ever been honest with her, even when that honesty had been wrapped in dramatics.

  “I wish I could be hopeful that my family would take me to London when the Season arrives next year,” Ellie said. “But I am quite certain they won’t. They might take Lillian, but even that seems unlikely.”

  Artemis motioned to the shopkeeper that she was interested in a length of the deep-green ribbon hanging near Ellie. He dipped his head and moved to the wall full of drawers, where his goods were kept.

  “You have told your parents that I expressed a desire for you to be in London?” Artemis returned to the topic at hand.

  “I did.”

  Artemis shook her head. “With how much store they put by status and wealth, that ought to have convinced them to jump at the opportunity. As tiring as it is to be pretentious, it is useful at times. My brother-in-law taught me that.” Her terrifying, dictatorial brother-in-law, no doubt.

  “I am certain they would have seized the chance for such an important connection
, but my mother did not believe me when I told her of it.”

  A look of deepening understanding entered Artemis’s expression.

  “You aren’t coming to London, Ellie?” Gillian looked thoroughly disappointed. “You have to. The Huntresses won’t be complete without you. And you haven’t even met the others yet.”

  She’d known these ladies less than a fortnight, and they already considered her a crucial part of their group. She couldn’t possibly give that up and return to being the scolded and dismissed youngest daughter on an isolated estate in an isolated corner of the kingdom.

  “We will think of something,” Artemis said. “The Huntresses are not easily defeated.”

  “We are, however, easily soaked.” Daria motioned to the front windows.

  The skies had burst open. Rain pelted the glass, falling hard on the scrambling passersby.

  “Heavens,” Gillian said. “I did not even think to bring an umbrella.”

  “Perhaps it will not last long.” Ellie watched the downpour, her heart dropping. Had Molly managed to reach home or duck into a shop somewhere? If the rain lasted too long, she herself would have to brave it. Mother would be none too pleased if she ruined her dress. Their sojourn in Bath had not been without expense, and her parents were put out enough already without her adding to their displeasure.

  The bell over the shop door rang, accompanying the sound of scrambling feet. People were escaping the deluge, taking refuge where they could find it.

  “A ribbon shop?” A gentleman objected with a laugh. “Could you not have suggested we duck into a tobacconist’s or a bootmaker’s?”

  Ellie felt certain she knew the voice. She looked to her companions, curious if they, too, found the voice familiar. One glance at Artemis sorted the mystery. She had a particular expression of ruffled feathers and prim propriety reserved exclusively for this one person: Charlie Jonquil.

  “If your sense of manhood cannot survive a momentary sojourn in a ribbon shop, then you have more significant troubles than this rainfall.” That, Ellie knew immediately, was Newton. He spoke more with Charlie than anyone else and showed himself quite clever and funny, though he had begun to open up with her as well.

  That Charlie immediately laughed spoke well of his sense of humor. Ellie was grateful to have come to know both gentlemen better.

  The two came around a corner and spotted the Huntresses standing near the window. All exchanged bows and curtsies. Charlie’s smile set Daria and Gillian a little aflutter but without any of the silliness too many young ladies employed. They found him handsome but refused to be ridiculous.

  “I see the lot of you managed to be indoors when the heavens burst into tears,” Charlie said.

  “What do you suppose they’re crying about?” Artemis asked a touch too innocently. “Something you ought not to have done?”

  “Not I,” Charlie said. “I’ve been a saint.”

  Artemis’s mouth twisted tightly to one side. She returned her gaze to the rain-pelted window.

  “Have you been a saint as well, Mr. Hughes?” Ellie felt a bit odd addressing him so formally, but she didn’t dare make use of his Christian name in public.

  “Always.”

  Charlie shook his head in obvious amusement. “Fortunately for you, my friend, we aren’t terribly near a church. You’d be struck by lightning on the instant.”

  “Only if I were standing too close to you.”

  Their banter marked a long and friendly association. Ellie would have loved to have a friendship like that. She felt the beginnings of it with Artemis and the Huntresses. If she could only get to London, their friendship would grow and deepen. If only.

  “The skies are quite leaden,” Artemis said. “We might be prisoners here for hours and hours.”

  Charlie pulled in a tense breath through flared nostrils. He crossed to her and gave her an umbrella.

  She eyed it, confused. “You wish to be rid of me?”

  “My father’s hair had a good bit of curl in it. I don’t remember much about him, but I do recall what a mess it became in the rain.” Charlie eyed Artemis’s curls. “Yours would be a disaster.”

  Ellie fully expected Artemis to scoff or ruffle up. She didn’t. “Rain is my greatest nemesis.”

  A hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I thought I was your greatest nemesis.”

  “You have your moments.”

  With a silent laugh, Charlie turned back toward Newton. The two exchanged looks of laughing weariness.

  “Have you umbrellas for all of us?” Ellie asked. “You will find yourself the greatest nemesis of three additional people otherwise.”

  Charlie appeared both diverted and repentant. “Newton has one. But I am afraid, between us, we have only the two.”

  Newton looked over the group, thinking. “Two of you could share an umbrella; that would allow all four of you to escape drier than you would otherwise.”

  “What of you and Charlie?” Ellie didn’t care for the idea of either of them being left a cold, sodden mess.

  “We, it seems, are the ones who will be prisoners in this ribbon shop.”

  Charlie leaned a shoulder against the nearby wall, arms folded casually across his chest. “Rather inconsiderate of your parents to live so far from this establishment, Newton. They ought to have thought that through better.”

  Newton nodded solemnly.

  Daria chimed in. “Artemis’s brother lives near here. I’d wager we could hurry there without being entirely drenched if we put our minds to it.”

  They all looked to Artemis. Would she object to the idea of offering Charlie refuge?

  “I daresay my brother would be pleased to see the gentlemen.” Artemis shrugged. “He is inexplicably fond of Charlie.”

  “Excellent.” Daria slipped up beside Artemis. “Shall we?”

  Newton held his umbrella out to Ellie.

  “But you will be soaked through,” she said.

  He smiled gently. “I won’t be felled by a bit of rain.”

  “This is far more than ‘a bit.’”

  He held the umbrella closer still, indicating he fully intended for her to take it.

  She hesitated.

  “I do not shrivel in the rain, Miss Ellie. But I would be horrified to see you pelted by the downpour. I would not wish to see you miserable.”

  Kind and thoughtful, as always. “Thank you.”

  Artemis was given her length of green ribbon. She thanked the shopkeeper, then motioned for them all to be on their way.

  The four ladies, protected by the two umbrellas, and the two gentlemen, far less protected by the brims of their tall hats, rushed from the shop and into the rain. The cloudburst had lightened a little from what it had been. They were still getting wet but not as much as they would have mere minutes earlier, though the journey to the Lancasters’ home was long enough to see their gowns caked in the muck and dirt of the city and dripping with rain. The gentlemen were in even worse shape.

  They were let into the house by a confused and overwhelmed Henson. He didn’t seem to have the least idea what to do.

  Artemis, as was usual for her, took immediate charge of the situation. “Henson, do show the gentlemen to the guest bedchamber, and ask Mr. Lancaster if he can provide them with a change of clothing.” She eyed Charlie. “You are taller than he is, so I cannot speak to the fit of anything he has to offer.”

  “At this point, I am not particular.” Indeed, the poor gentleman was shivering.

  They both were.

  “Huntresses”—Artemis motioned them onward—“follow me, and I will see all of you warm and changed into dry clothes in no time.”

  Borrowing clothes from Artemis? Ellie was several inches shorter than her friend and several inches more . . . expansive, as it were. If Artemis could find a single thing in her wardrobe that fit
Ellie, she would be more than justified in claiming “worker of miracles” amongst her accomplishments.

  For Ellie’s part, she resigned herself to being relegated to a private bedchamber to dry off in a blanket, wishing she’d simply stayed home.

  Chapter Ten

  Neither Newton nor Charlie was built much like Mr. Lancaster. Charlie was taller and more slender. Newton was a touch shorter than either of them and not nearly as broad shouldered as their host. The former lieutenant’s clothes—his blessedly dry clothes—were an odd fit on both of them. Yet, they were both remarkably grateful to no longer be dripping and shivering with cold.

  Mrs. Lancaster invited all of her soggy guests to the sitting room once they were dry. Upon entering, Newton and Charlie found themselves the recipients of hot tea and hot soup. A low fire was burning, and heavy throws were passed around to provide added warmth and comfort.

  Charlie had spoken often about Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster. He’d spoken in such glowing terms, Newton hadn’t truly believed it was possible for the actual people behind the praise to live up to his description. If anything, Charlie had not been effusive enough.

  The young ladies had not yet joined them. There were more of them, after all, and, at least to his minute understanding of such things, had more complicated clothing. It likely would take them a while. So he and Charlie sat quietly, waiting. It was a warm and comfortable arrangement.

  After a time, Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster joined them as well.

  “Thank you for your generous hospitality,” Newton said. “We descended upon you without warning.”

  Mr. Lancaster waved that off. “I’m pleased you thought to come here. Being caught in a downpour such as we have just had would be miserable even for the hardiest of people. Being a former navy man myself, I know what it is to be soaked to the bones. I’m grateful you did not have to endure that for long.”

  “You are always welcome here,” Mrs. Lancaster said.

  One often encountered marriages in which the wife was quite silent and the husband spoke on behalf of them both. Far too often the arrangement appeared to be a forced one. That was not the case here. Mrs. Lancaster gave the clear impression of preferring to be quiet and even seemed grateful when her husband filled in the gaps. Whether she was simply shy amongst people she didn’t know well or shy in general, he could not yet say. Whatever the case might be, he found no reason to be worried for her.