Too Clever by Half: A Harrow's Finest Five Novella

by Nancy Yeager

  “Yes, I am.” She narrowed her eyes. “I can spot an opportunist at fifty paces.”

  “I have no doubt you can.” Mr. Alcott smiled. His smile was more dangerous than his scowl. Did he see her as worse than an opportunist? Did he see her for the liar she was?

  Tessa fluttered her fan wildly as heat chased through her blood. The room must be overcrowded. But while she pondered it, Mr. Alcott re-engaged Captain Granville’s attention.

  “I’d hoped to hear how Swimmer fares, if you’ve heard from him.” Alcott’s voice seemed to come from afar and yet was too loud in her ear all at the same time.

  As the heat threatened to overcome her senses, Tessa cut the fan through the air, desperate for a cooling breeze.

  “Lady Tessa, might I request—” Mr. Alcott held out a hand to still her fan.

  Tessa snapped it toward her shoulder, pulling it out of his reach. It connected with something with a sickening thwack.

  Tessa turned in time to see a small red spot on Luci’s forehead the second before the startled woman, mouth agape and eyes tearing, covered the injury with her hand.

  “Dear Luci, I’m so sorry! It was an accident.”

  “I know it was.” Luci smiled, but she arched her eyebrow when she glanced at Tessa. “Perhaps I should leave you to chat with the captain, while I check on my father. I think the widow was making eyes at him. Mr. Alcott, would you mind helping me—”

  “Ah, I can spot him across the room.” The captain stepped between Luci and Mr. Alcott. “I haven’t seen Fairbank in ages. I’ll join you, if you don’t mind.”

  Luci widened her eyes at Tessa, but there was nothing either of them could do without being unforgivably rude. Her friend’s attempt to give Tessa time to speak to the captain without distractions had gone amiss, and now the captain bid Tessa and James adieu and steered Luci into the crowd.

  “I hope there won’t be a mark on the lovely lady’s face in the morning,” James said.

  Tessa clutched her fan tightly in her hand, too late for the precaution to do any good. “It was an accident. I feel dreadful about it.”

  “So does Fairbank, it appears.” James tilted his chin in the direction of Luci’s father, who’d left the side of widow in gold and was now making his toward his daughter and the captain.

  Given the concern on Fairbank’s face, it was quite probable he’d collect Luci and—as she was his guest this evening—Tessa and whisk them home. All because Mr. Alcott’s interruption had agitated her and made her careless.

  Tessa faced Alcott, her nostrils flaring in anger. Anger made her look ugly, as her older brothers had repeatedly told her for the past twenty-two years. But she was beyond caring about appearances. “You and your opportunism have ruined everything, Mr. Alcott.”

  He didn’t return her anger. Instead, he stared at her face with rapt attention, then grinned again. “My lady, I’m merely a student of poetry, taking the time to catch up with an old school friend. I can hardly be the one accused of opportunism. But shouldn’t you be focused on a lady’s noblest cause, following the romantic dream of finding a husband, at such an event as this?”

  “How dare you!” She shook with rage, and pulled back her fan with a thought to cuffing him with it. But remembering the awful sound the accidental slap had made, she rolled open the fan instead and waved it ever so gently in front of her face. “I, sir, am not a hopeless romantic, a state that no doubt afflicts you as it has every other male student of poetry I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

  His smile faded and his intense and inappropriate stare returned. “One who has not read great poetry is in no position to judge students of it.”

  Still waving her fan, she took a step closer. “Ah, but you see, Mr. Alcott, I have read great poetry. Everything from Shakespeare to John Donne to Lord Byron. My most recent favorite is the abolitionist poem “The Slaves of Martinique,” written by John Greenleaf Whittier. Surely a well-versed student of poetry such as yourself has read it. How did you find it?”

  Alcott paled ever so slightly and her heart raced. She knew she’d hit the mark.

  “I must confess, Lady Tessa, I’ve not taken to reading the American poets.”

  She raised an eyebrow and gave him the quick, assessing scrutiny that one gives a horse that’s been found lacking.

  “God be praised for every instinct which rebels against a lot

  Where the brute survives the human, and man's upright form is not!

  “Perhaps one day, when you’ve finished pursuing your own romantic dreams, you’ll have time to learn more about the world around you, Mr. Alcott. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must check on my friend.”

  She swished her skirts as she turned and walked away from him. She resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder to see what must surely be the defeated look on his face, then wiped the grin off her own face as she approached her friend and prepared to explain the fan accident to Luci’s overprotective father.

  Chapter 2

  The next afternoon, James handed his calling card to the butler of the Earl of Limely, then removed his gloves as he followed the servant through the Mayfair townhouse and into the garden. Edward Radcliffe, Viscount Meriden, who was both James’s old schoolmate and the earl’s only son, entertained three ladies under the large umbrella that shaded the patio table. It came as no surprise to James. There was the duchess, of course, and Miss Lucinda Wagner, smiling prettily, a charming distraction. The mastermind herself, Lady Tessa, sat between them, positioned directly across from Edward, whom she was effectively charming with that dimpled smile of hers.

  Edward rose as James approached and held out his hand. “James Alcott. It’s so good to see you. Might I introduce you?”

  James bobbed his head as he shook Edward’s hand, then turned toward the ladies. “I made the acquaintance of these lovely ladies at Countess Bower’s ball.”

  A servant had brought another chair to go around the outdoor table and now placed it between the duchess and Lady Tessa. Lady Tessa smiled at him, her wide blue eyes so beguilingly innocent. If he’d had any doubt as to her purpose here – and in truth, he had not – that well-practiced smile would have driven it from his head.

  Though from those lips a kiss being taken

  Might tyrants melt, and Death awaken.

  He cleared his throat and took his seat, demanding his mind stop drifting to verse in the lady’s presence. For the life of him, he couldn’t even remember the poet who’d written those lines. One of the Caroline poets of the seventeenth century, but beyond that –

  “And so the duchess was disappointed to learn that my sister, Lady Emmeline, plans to remain in Spain with my aunt indefinitely.” Edward was looking straight at James.

  James nodded as though he’d heard and understood the entirety of Edward’s story, whatever it might have been. He latched onto the one piece of information that had reached him. “While the ladies are no doubt disappointed at Lady Emmeline’s absence, you and I are the beneficiaries of this unfortunate circumstance.”

  He glanced at Lady Tessa as he said the final two words. Her face remained impassive, revealing neither smile nor frown, but she did flutter her fan ever so slightly at her breast.

  Though that neck be whiter far

  Than towers of polished ivory are.

  The duchess reached for her parasol resting against her chair. “I’m afraid I must move these old bones a bit. Lucinda, would you care to join me for a stroll in the garden?”

  James and Edward rose with the two ladies.

  “It would be my pleasure to walk with you,” Edward said.

  “Thank you, my lord, but I don’t wish to take your attention away from your other guests for my constitutional. Perhaps you can give us a word or two about the various flowers, and then we’ll wander about on our own.”

  Edward bowed. “Of course. Lady Tessa, would you care to join us?”

  Lady Tessa fluttered her fan and, if James wasn’t mistaken, her eyelashes. “Oh,
thank you, sir, but I’m afraid I’m dreadfully dull when it comes to botany, and I’m more than a bit affected by lilies, of which there seem to be many.”

  As Edward walked the two ladies to the edge of the garden path, James sat beside Lady Tessa. “Miss Wagner seems to have recovered from her unfortunate run-in with your fan. I’m sorry to hear of your own affliction caused by lilies, although a walk through the garden probably wouldn’t bring you any closer to them than you are right now.”

  “Oh, but I can hardly take the chance. And as I said, I’m dreadfully dull in the subject of botany.”

  “There are those who might consider a garden stroll an aesthetic undertaking.”

  Lady Tessa snapped her fan closed and laid it in her lap. “There are those who can afford to choose the aesthetics of flowers and poetry over intellectual pursuits.”

  James grinned. “The lady bites.”

  She picked up her teacup between two fingers and took a delicate sip. “You misunderstand me, Mr. Alcott. I merely state a fact. Though I will concede there are those who have the luxury of mixing the aesthetic with the intellectual. Unfortunately, as a lady in this day and age, I am not one of those lucky few.”

  James took a measured sip of his own tea. “Even we lucky few have our worries.”

  She set aside her cup and folded both hands over her fan in her lap. “I’m sure Harrow thanks you for your dogged worry, even if it comes at the expense of educating England’s women.”

  “I assure you, that’s not my intention.” James leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Lady Tessa, I agree young women should be educated. But right now, the world is changing. Throughout Europe, everything’s moving faster. Information, people, society. Railroads are covering the continent. The first transatlantic cable has been laid. And as our country’s future leaders, our young men must have an education that prepares them to adapt to all of it. I’ve met so many intelligent, studious boys who will thrive in this new world to the benefit of us all, if only we can give them the education to do so.”

  Her lips quirked into a slight frown and when she glanced at him, her eyes drooped ever so slightly, giving the impression of exhaustion. “Indeed, the world is changing, Mr. Alcott. But society is hardly allowing women to change with it, even though our very survival might depend upon it.”

  Lady Tessa had a quick tongue and a keen wit. A man with such assets, combined with a worthy education, might accomplish great things. James sat back in his seat and pondered her face, now stripped of its artifice, and considered for the first time in his twenty-seven years what it might mean to be a woman in British Society, where her quick tongue and keen wit might get her little more than spinsterhood and obscurity. And he began to dimly understand how much worse it would be as a woman without access to wealth, like the mothers and sisters of the boys he hoped to help.

  “The ladies are enjoying my mother’s collection of roses,” Edward said as he returned. “Lady Tessa, will you have more tea?” He glanced at a nearby maid who was ready to refill their cups

  “Yes, please.” The fluttering eyelashes and coquettish smile, complete with one lovely dimple, returned. “Mr. Alcott and I were having the most interesting discussion.”

  James perched on the edge of his seat. “Were we?”

  “You see, sir, Mr. Alcott and I have a dilemma.”

  When Edward glanced at him, James could scarcely imagine what his old friend might be thinking.

  “We both have a bit of business to discuss with you, regarding the Wrexham Charitable Trust.” The lady took a sip of her tea, again moving daintily. “We simply can’t come to an agreement regarding who should speak first.”

  So that was her game: win Edward over to her cause with her laments about changing times and preparing the country for the future before James could use those same arguments for his own cause.

  From the rapt attention he paid her, it was clear Edward wasn’t immune to her feminine charms. “If this is to be a private discussion,” Edward glanced at the two women wandering through the garden, “it’s doubtful there’s time for both of you to make your cases before the other ladies return.”

  “Then perhaps neither of us should speak of it,” James said.

  “Or…” Lady Tessa set her cup on the table and smiled beatifically at Edward.

  James was sunk. What poor sod could resist that one-dimpled grin?

  “Perhaps the victor of a smaller contest should win the right to bend your ear this afternoon,” Lady Tessa finished.

  Edward tented his fingers together in front of him. “Really? What do you have in mind?”

  “Perhaps a turn at poetry.” James turned toward Lady Tessa. “The lady considers herself a bit of an expert.”

  “Oh, that hardly seems fair.” The lady blushed. How did she manage it?

  “But you do consider yourself an expert, don’t you, my lady?”

  She met his stare. “Just an avid admirer, but still, that hardly makes it fair to you. After all, last time we crossed swords over poetry, I fear I made a spectacle of it.” She dropped her voice to a whisper and addressed Edward. “I’m sorry to say, I wasn’t a gracious winner.”

  Edward’s deep, genuine laugh confirmed James’s suspicion: the minx had him in the palm of her hand. Two could play at that and so many other games. The games he could teach her...

  James jumped to his feet. “Perhaps botany then? Edward can vouch for my lack of knowledge of such things.”

  Edward laughed again. “That’s true. Our good friend Harry is a bit of a genius when it comes to plants, and even he found it nearly hopeless to help James through the exams.”

  James would let that exaggeration stand, and he would never admit that he’d developed a keen interest in the treatises Harry had sent to Harrow from the jungles of South America. “As I recall, Lady Tessa, you admitted your own shortcomings in the field, so perhaps we’re evenly matched.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. She would be a good sport about it. It would have made James feel a bit of a lout if she hadn’t been so obstinate in the first place. He crossed to the edge of the patio, where more than a dozen lily plants grew tall and strong, their striped purple petals rioting over each other. He looked over his shoulder at Edward. “May I?”

  Edward approved, and James pinched one lovely flower from its plant and returned to his seat. He held the bloom in his hand on the table between the lady and himself. Her real reason for avoiding a turn around the garden had to be her fear that James would use the time alone with Edward to win him over to the Harrow scholarship cause. But since she’d admitted her purpose for being there, he couldn’t imagine why she’d fabricated a lily allergy. Perhaps to play on Edward’s sympathies. Regardless, he’d reveal her deception in front of Edward and put them on a level playing field.

  “Perhaps we can discuss something about the lilies that vex you so. Although…” James inspected her face, “No watering eyes. No sneezing. It’s as though this pretty little flower has no effect on you whatsoever.”

  Lady Tessa took the flower from his hand, her eyes meeting his as their hands touched. He would have thought her unmoved if not for the slightest hint of crimson in her cheeks as she pulled the flower close to her. She held the bloom to her nose, breathing in the scent of it. “You are correct, Mr. Alcott. This flower does not cause a reaction from me.”

  “Did I misunderstand? Are your allergies limited to certain lily species? You spoke so strongly, I assumed you could be felled by any one of the lovely little beasts.”

  “You understood correctly. I’m allergic to all lilies, sad to say.” She and Edward exchanged a knowing look.

  Edward grinned. “These plants were a gift from Harry to my mother, from South America.”

  Something niggled at the back of James’s mind, something Harry had written about lilies, specifically about Peruvian lilies.

  “Alstroemeria pelegrina, if I’m not mistaken.” Lady Tessa sniffed the flower again. �
�It smells nothing like a lily, of course, being of an entirely different plant genus.”

  Harry’s passage about alstroemeria pelegrina, a plant that looked much like England’s lilies and yet was unrelated, now returned to James’s addled brain.

  “It would seem the lady has bested you once again.” Edward clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry, James, but I believe she’s won my undivided attention.”

  Lady Tessa held out the flower to James, who returned her smile and took great pains to touch her hand as long as possible while he retrieved the traitorous bloom.

  Victory had never felt so hollow. As Tessa perched on the plush green velvet seat in Lord Fairbank’s carriage and waited for Luci and the duchess to be handed up into the cab, she ruminated over Meriden’s reaction to her request for him to voice his support of women’s education to the members of the Wrexham’s Trust board. The Radcliffe men were notorious sticks in the mud. Even Meriden’s own sister sometimes called him by his school days nickname: Steady Eddie, who would never veer from the path of tradition and decorum. Still, he was young and kind, and she’d held out hope, which had been met with some non-committal platitudes before Fairbank had arrived to collect them.

  And then there was Mr. Alcott. Scheming, treacherous Mr. Alcott. Her pulse raced. She put it down to anger. What else could it be? He’d managed to snatch his own victory from the jaws of defeat. As they’d all said their farewells, Meriden had invited Mr. Alcott to visit him at his club the next day. There Mr. Alcott would get all the time for an audience he could possibly need, and no doubt Meriden would pledge his undying support for the boys of Harrow.

  The duchess sat beside Tessa, while Luci and her father occupied the opposite bench. As the carriage lurched forward, the duchess patted Tessa’s hand, then titled her head in Lord Fairbank’s direction.

  Tessa smoothed her skirt with the edge of her fan, then smiled at Luci’s father. “My lord, might I discuss something with you?”