The Best-Laid Plans Read online

  Charlie snorted. “Church minded is hardly the right description for me.”

  “Especially in the matter of Miss Sham-caster.”

  The only time Newton’s friend audibly sighed, and not in jest, was when the topic of a certain young lady arose between them. Her name, of course, was not Sham-caster, but Lancaster. And, further, she was the youngest sister of the same Mr. Lancaster they were on their way to visit.

  Newton knew he shouldn’t tease his friend on this topic, but he couldn’t help himself. “Miss Lancaster is an unrivaled diamond in Society. A shame she is your sworn enemy.”

  “Not a shame,” Charlie muttered. “An inevitability.”

  Newton laughed ever harder. Charlie had told him endless stories of his frustrating and annoying encounters with Miss Lancaster.

  “I had opportunity to interact with Miss Lancaster a few times during my brief weeks in London after Lent term. She was in Town for the Season.”

  “I wish you had told me of this acute and horrific suffering,” Charlie said. “I would have sent you my deepest, most heartfelt sympathy, perhaps offered you safe haven with my mother.”

  Another laugh burst from Newton. He laughed more with Charlie than with anyone else he knew. “While I would have enjoyed spending time in your mother’s company, I was not so miserable as you insist. I found Miss Lancaster far more endurable than you convinced me I would.”

  “Have you suffered a blow to the head?” Charlie pretended to be deeply concerned, though no one would have actually believed he was in earnest. “I can think of no other explanation for this nonsense.”

  Miss “Sham-caster” ruffled his even-tempered friend. How could Newton be expected not to poke at that particular nerve?

  “Perhaps she has come to Bath.” Newton mused over the possibility in as casual a tone as he could manage, all the while watching Charlie for a reaction.

  “Bite your tongue, Hughes.”

  Newton laughed quietly. After a moment, Charlie laughed as well.

  “Admit it,” Newton said. “She’s not so terrible as you describe her.”

  “She’s not.” An unexpected answer. “She’s worse.” Still, Charlie smiled. He didn’t like Miss Lancaster—there was no doubt about that—but he was too contented a person to be truly aggravated for long.

  They reached Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster’s house on Lansdown Crescent. Their knock was answered quickly by a young, enthusiastic butler. The man, whose name they had learned on their first visit was Henson, was clearly new to his position and anxious to learn the way of it. Newton liked him. He was far more welcoming than the austere, staid butlers one usually encountered.

  “Get on in.” Henson waved them into the entryway. He caught himself. “Please come inside, gentlemen.”

  “Very good, man.” Charlie allowed a breach of etiquette as well, slapping a hand on Henson’s shoulder. “Make certain you ask for our cards.”

  Henson nodded. “Your cards, gentlemen?”

  They handed them over.

  After thinking for the length of a breath, Henson motioned to the small sitting room. “You can wait in there, I s’pose.” He shook his head. “Please wait in here, gentlemen, while I see if the family is at home.”

  Not badly done. Henson would sort himself out soon enough. And he wasn’t doing terribly, truth be told.

  “Oh.” Henson stopped with one foot on the staircase. “There’s someone in that room. That’s permissible, isn’t it?”

  Charlie nodded. Henson breathed a sigh of obvious relief, then hurried on his way.

  Alone again, Newton spoke up, keeping his tone neutral and his laughter tucked away. “I, for one, am hoping the ‘someone in this room’ is a member of the extended Lancaster family.”

  Charlie tossed him a felling look. “Don’t even joke about that.”

  They stepped into the room. Sitting with unmistakable grace and elegance was a young lady Newton remembered well—one did not forget a diamond of the first water.

  “Mr. Jonquil,” she said, her tone both painfully proper and amusingly superior. “What a . . . pleasant surprise.”

  “Ah, lud,” Charlie muttered.

  “And Mr. Hughes.” She turned to him. “An actual pleasure to see you.”

  Newton dipped his head. “Miss Lancaster,” he greeted quietly.

  “My brother told me the two of you were in Bath and had called.” Miss Lancaster motioned them farther into the room. Her manners could certainly not be faulted. “I had hoped you would call again.”

  Charlie didn’t say anything. He simply stood rooted to the spot, a look of exhausted displeasure on his usually jovial face.

  Newton could keep up a conversation when civility required it. “How long have you been in Bath, Miss Lancaster?”

  “I arrived yesterday.”

  That explained why they had not yet seen her.

  “When are you leaving?” Charlie muttered under his breath.

  Miss Lancaster appeared to be holding back a laugh as she lowered herself into a chair. She reminded Newton of . . . well, of Charlie when he wasn’t around Miss Lancaster. “My brother and his wife mean to spend another month in Bath,” she said. “They have invited me to remain with them throughout their sojourn here. I intend to accept their offer.”

  “How fortunate for all of us,” Newton said, sitting.

  Miss Lancaster eyed Charlie. “Do you find it fortunate, Mr. Jonquil?”

  Charlie sat as well, assuming a posture of casual disapproval. “I’d answer, but I promised my brother I wouldn’t insult you anymore.” He needed a moment to regain his equilibrium enough to keep that promise.

  Newton far preferred silence when amongst people he did not know well, but he was not so painfully reserved as to be unable to spring to his friend’s rescue. “I understand your eldest sister welcomed a new arrival a few months ago.”

  Miss Lancaster allowed her attention to shift to him. “She did. I have a new niece, Lady Hestia. She promises to be quite the heartbreaker, in large part because I intend to teach her well.”

  The amusing lady might drive Charlie rather mad, but Newton enjoyed her company. She was quick-witted and self-assured enough to not demur her way into the posture of feebleness too many young ladies were trained to assume.

  Henson returned again but without the master or mistress of the house. “More visitors is about to come inside,” he said.

  In a quiet voice entirely lacking in mockery or jesting, Miss Lancaster said, “You simply tell us who it is by saying their names before stepping aside to allow them in.”

  He nodded, looking both disappointed in himself and a touch embarrassed.

  “And I fear you may have forgotten to let Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster know of these gentlemen’s arrival.”

  Henson’s shoulders dropped. “I’m going to get myself tossed out of my position.”

  Miss Lancaster shook her head with a kind smile. “Mr. Lancaster enjoys having someone around to swap stories of the war with.”

  “I like that too,” Henson said.

  “And he has told me that he appreciates how welcome you make everyone who comes to the door.”

  Henson took a deep breath. “I am trying, Miss Lancaster.”

  “I know. And we are all so pleased.”

  Newton glanced at Charlie and saw precisely what he’d expected: confusion and surprise. He’d so often described Miss Sham-caster as ceaselessly shallow and self-absorbed. That description did not at all fit with the kindness she had just shown a servant who had inarguably made a mull of his most basic duties.

  A knock sounded at the door. The new visitors.

  Henson jumped into action, spinning about and rushing out of the sitting room.

  Miss Lancaster laughed but not in derision. “He tries so very hard.”

  “Where did your br
other find him?” Charlie asked.

  She quite notably did not look at him. “Mrs. Jason Jonquil is quite an advocate for our returning war veterans. She found Henson struggling to stay afloat in the mires of London and suggested he might make a good addition to this household. Have you heard of her?”

  Far from being ruffled by her teasing, fondness touched Charlie’s expression. “Mariposa has single-handedly filled the staff of most London homes with one-time soldiers and sailors.”

  One of those former sailors popped inside a moment later and announced the newest arrivals. “Mrs. Napper.” He actually counted them off on his fingers. “Miss Napper. Miss Elfrida Napper.”

  Charlie rose, along with Newton, as was expected, but there was exasperation in his eyes, this time not directed at Miss Lancaster.

  “You are acquainted with the Nappers?” Newton asked under his breath.

  “The reason I tossed myself off a roof.”

  Charlie had, in fact, accidentally fallen off a roof the year before while visiting Mr. Lancaster in Shropshire. His injuries hadn’t been minor, but neither had his life been in true danger.

  “You insisted Miss Lancaster was the reason you flung yourself from the vicarage.”

  Charlie shrugged. “I had a preponderance of reasons.”

  Quick introductions were exchanged as well as the requisite bows and curtsies.

  Mrs. Napper’s focus turned immediately to Charlie. “Mr. Jonquil. What a pleasure. You remember Lillian, of course.” She pushed one of her daughters forward. “We were, of course, so honored at the friendship you two formed.”

  Anyone looking at Charlie could tell there was no actual friendship behind his kind, civil, silent greeting. He didn’t appear to actually dislike Miss Napper, but theirs was clearly not the close connection Mrs. Napper insisted existed.

  “I suspect you don’t remember my younger daughter quite as well.” Miss Napper pushed forward her other daughter. The older sister was all narrow lines and angles; the younger was her utter opposite. Her more curved and rounded figure softened her in a way her sister entirely lacked. “Elfrida is much quieter, much more withdrawn. A dear girl, of course, quite sweet. All the Society hostesses just adore her. But she is so demure and sweet natured that she is overlooked, I fear.” Another push at the young lady’s back nearly sent her tumbling to the ground. “She remembers you, of course.”

  “A pleasure to see you again, Miss Ellie,” Charlie said.

  She smiled briefly. “You remembered my preferred name.”

  “Of course.” Charlie chose the word Mrs. Napper had used over and over again since her arrival. The Jonquils were rather famous for their wit, and the youngest of them was no different.

  Mrs. Napper all but elbowed Miss Ellie toward Charlie while, in the same movement, she nudged her older daughter in Newton’s direction. “Mr. Hughes, I don’t believe you have met my daughter, Lillian.”

  Oh, lud. He was to be drawn into this? Social chatter was far from his specialty. “I have not.” He dipped his head. “A pleasure, Miss Napper.”

  “The pleasure, I assure you, is all mine.” She held his gaze a bit too anxiously.

  When all the ladies were seated, Miss Napper motioned for Newton to sit beside her. Mrs. Napper repeatedly called for Charlie to sit near Miss Ellie. The young ladies’ mother bore the expression of a terrier in fox-hunting season.

  Charlie met Newton’s eye. He raised a brow and motioned to their visitors with a look that said, “This is what I was telling you about.”

  Any gentleman in possession of an income and familial connections learned early how to undermine unwanted matrimonial efforts without rudeness and how to tiptoe around traps and snares. Between the unexpected presence of Charlie’s sworn enemy and the pointed pursuit of the Nappers, this promised to be a most unusual sojourn in Bath.

  Chapter Three

  The Upper Assembly Rooms in Bath held two balls each week: a Dress Ball on Monday nights and a Fancy Ball on Thursdays. Those wishing to attend could either pay for entry upon their arrival or could purchase a subscription to the Dress Balls or the Fancy Balls or both, allowing them to attend week after week. As Ellie’s family could afford subscriptions to only one of the two, her parents chose the Fancy Balls, believing the addition of two cotillions to the list of dances made those gatherings more dignified.

  Stepping inside the grand ballroom for their first Fancy Ball since their arrival, Ellie could not help thinking they ought to have chosen the purportedly less stately weekly gathering. Lillian’s remade gowns were not in the first stare of fashion. And the gowns Mother had reluctantly agreed to have made for Ellie were rather countrified, no matter that they’d been sewn by a Bath seamstress. Their simplicity spoke not of elegance but frugality, and the indifferent workmanship rendered Ellie’s appearance almost dowdy. Her appearance was hardly her only concern.

  All day, all evening, all the way from their rented house to the Assembly Rooms, Ellie had been regaled with warnings and dire pronouncements regarding her expected misbehavior and embarrassments.

  Do not make any of your usual impertinent remarks.

  Do not be as disgracefully forward as you too often are.

  Mr. Jonquil is the only prospect you have. Do not turn him away with your forwardness.

  For heaven’s sake, keep your peace while we are in company. Young ladies with too much to say will never be considered good company.

  The list went on and on. She was fully expected to be a failure, a disgrace, an embarrassment. Her family demanded silent obedience, and she had found it best over the years to simply comply.

  Her parents had enough acquaintances in Bath to be kept occupied with greetings and words of reunion for quite some time after their arrival at the ball. As this was Ellie’s first time joining them, she was introduced to more people than she could possibly remember.

  Their path soon crossed with the Lancasters’. The greetings were effusive on the part of Ellie’s family, subdued but cordial on the part of the Lancasters. Miss Lancaster, dressed elegantly without being gaudy, offered a small smile to both Lillian and Ellie. Their acquaintance was not truly a deep one; Miss Lancaster had not lived near them for more than a decade. She traveled in much more exalted circles now.

  “We were so delighted to have called yesterday and found Mr. Hughes and Mr. Jonquil there as well,” Lillian said to Miss Lancaster. “They seem quite exceptional gentlemen.”

  “You knew Mr. Jonquil already, from his visit to Shropshire last year,” Miss Lancaster said.

  Lillian stumbled only a tiny bit over having been caught out pushing the topic of conversation by means of a slight misrepresentation. “Well, yes, but as he spent a vast portion of that visit convalescing, we did not spend as much time in his company as we had anticipated.”

  “How fortunate for you.”

  Only by sheer force of will did Ellie keep her amusement hidden—her family wouldn’t approve of the show of levity. Miss Lancaster was clearly under no expectation of keeping quiet and outwardly reserved.

  Lillian smiled conspiratorially, as if she and Miss Lancaster were the very best of friends. “You always have been so droll.”

  “Have I?” Miss Lancaster looked to Ellie. “Do you concur with your sister’s evaluation?”

  “At the moment, I find you more candid than comical.”

  That earned her a light laugh of what she felt certain was approval. Not everyone found a bit of wordplay off-putting.

  Lillian watched them both with an expression of confusion. As she did more often than not, she turned the topic once more to the one she preferred: her interests. “I should very much like to make Mr. Hughes’s better acquaintance. His manners yesterday were beyond reproach. His family, I understand, are the very cream of Society. One could not do better than to claim him as an acquaintance or friend.”

 
Or more. Ellie was not unaware of her sister’s ambitions.

  “The Hugheses hold subscriptions to both balls,” Miss Lancaster said. “I suspect he and Mr. Jonquil will both be in attendance tonight.”

  “Excellent.” Lillian turned to Mother, the two of them conversing in low whispers.

  “Has her focus shifted, then?” Miss Lancaster asked Ellie. “Mr. Jonquil seemed to be the one she had her eye on before. The one both of you were focused on, truth be told.”

  With her family’s attention momentarily diverted, Ellie threw caution entirely to the wind and answered with as much candor as Miss Lancaster had earlier. “That was my parents’ focus. Lillian shared the ambition. I had no choice but to act as though I did as well.”

  “Ah.” The empathy in Miss Lancaster’s expression made her less intimidating. “I did wonder why you hardly ever spoke. And if I am remembering correctly, when you did, it was mostly to echo something your sister said.”

  “It seemed the safest approach.”

  Miss Lancaster nodded. “Is that to be your approach in Bath as well?”

  “In Shropshire, I had my sister’s more ambitious efforts to hide behind. Here, I alone am meant to make a good showing where Mr. Jonquil is concerned.” Her mother and sister were finishing their conversation, her father having stepped away, and they turned back in her direction once more. Ellie pressed her lips together and resumed her silence.

  “We have just seen Mr. Hughes and Mr. Jonquil step inside,” Mother said. “Come, Ellie. We must go offer our greetings.”

  Objections would be futile. She simply dipped her head in resignation.

  To her surprise, Miss Lancaster hooked her arm through Ellie’s. “Do allow me to go with you.”

  Lillian looked surprised. Mother could not have appeared more ecstatic.

  “If I am not mistaken,” Ellie said, “you do not overly care for Mr. Jonquil.”

  “No, but I am terribly fond of the theatre, and we are about to be treated to quite a performance.”

  Again, Ellie barely managed to hold back her amusement. If Mother’s gaze had not been unwaveringly focused on the gentlemen ahead of them, she would have scolded Ellie to no end.