The Best-Laid Plans Read online

  “I only wish I didn’t have to be one of the performers,” Ellie said.

  “Stick close to me. I’ll do what I can to extricate you.”

  It was, quite possibly, the most generous and welcome offer she had received in years. “Thank you, Miss Lancaster.”

  “Call me Artemis,” she said. “We cannot be allies if we aren’t friends.”

  “I would be honored to be either one.”

  “Why not both?” So many of the fashionable and sought-after young ladies in Society were rumored to be quite above their company, looking down their noses at those who did not claim the standing and wealth they did. Artemis was proving quite the opposite.

  They were soon standing before Mr. Hughes and Mr. Jonquil. Bows and curtsies and words of delighted welcome were exchanged, the more effusive of it coming from Mother and Lillian.

  “A delight to see you again, Miss Lancaster.” Mr. Jonquil’s greeting was not impolite, but neither did it seem entirely sincere. They neither of them seemed overly fond of the other, yet there was no real animosity apparent.

  “Of course it is.” She shrugged a shoulder, then turned with cool confidence to the other gentleman. “You have had my deepest empathy these past days, Mr. Hughes.”

  “Why is that?” He spoke as quietly as he had the day before, not in a tone of true bashfulness but as someone who was simply more contemplative and reserved.

  “One cannot be subjected to Mr. Jonquil’s company without suffering greatly in the enduring of it.”

  Mr. Hughes did not appear to take her entirely seriously. Mr. Jonquil looked as though he very much wished to object to Artemis’s declaration but didn’t care to make a scene.

  Mother opened her mouth, no doubt wishing to direct the conversation, but Artemis spoke too quickly.

  “Miss Ellie and I have been enjoying a very convivial conversation, but I have learned that she has not yet been engaged for the next set.”

  Like a magpie in pursuit of the next shiny treasure, Mother seized the moment. “Lillian is not yet engaged either. Mr. Hughes, would you be so good as to fill the gap?”

  If he was overly shocked at the breach of etiquette—gentlemen were seldom pressed so directly—he did not indicate as much. He simply dipped his head without the slightest change to his expression. Ellie hadn’t the first idea whether he was humorless or stern. Perhaps both. She didn’t dislike him; she simply didn’t know what to make of him.

  “And, Mr. Jonquil,” Mother pressed forward. “Elfrida is unlikely to secure a partner if you do not show her a degree of compassion.” She had secured Lillian a partner without actually insulting her. Ellie never did seem to warrant consideration.

  “I doubt she could be here long without being quite in demand.” Mr. Jonquil turned to Ellie. “Might I secure your company for the next set before someone else swoops in and snatches you away?”

  Though she did not intend to cooperate enough with her parents’ dictates to actually try ensnaring Mr. Jonquil, she was deeply grateful to him for that moment of kindness. He had salvaged her dignity and had done so without drawing undue attention.

  Ample time remained before the next set would begin for all the parties involved to spend a little more time interacting with others. The gentlemen, no doubt, planned on doing precisely that. But Lillian kept close to Mr. Hughes’s side, not so subtly reaching for his arm and all but forcing him to offer it to her. She smiled up at him, not in pleasure but in something far more like victory.

  “I cannot imagine you do not remember that look,” Ellie said quietly to Mr. Jonquil.

  “It haunts my dreams.” His tone was teasing, but his words were sincere. “I will drop a word of warning into my friend’s ear, assuming he is able to eventually slip free.”

  She offered him an apologetic glance. “I hope he will not think too poorly of my family. I also hope he will take your warning seriously.”

  “His is a compassionate nature and a remarkable intellect,” Mr. Jonquil said. “He’ll be wise in both regards.”

  Ellie remained in the grouping, knowing her mother would allow nothing else. As dictated by her family, she kept very quiet. As dictated by her own integrity, she kept a physical distance from the gentleman they meant for her to pursue.

  Lillian offered Mr. Hughes no such reprieve. By the time the next set was over and the two gentlemen returned them to their parents, the poor soul looked ready to run for his life. What little subtlety Lillian had employed during their efforts in Shropshire had yet to make an appearance here.

  If they were not all very careful, Lillian’s efforts might just prove successful. And if she managed to ensnare her chosen prey, Ellie would be under increasing pressure to capture the quarry chosen for her.

  And they would all live unhappily ever after.

  Chapter Four

  If not for the very real possibility that Miss Napper would drag him quite literally to the altar should he offer her even the tiniest encouragement, Newton would have faced the remainder of his time in Bath with equanimity. The Nappers were not objectionable by Society’s standards, but Newton had no desire to entangle himself. He already felt trapped enough by his parents’ dictates and demands.

  “We have been invited to take supper and spend an evening with Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster,” Mother said. The three of them—Newton and both of his parents—were making what was proving to be a biweekly visit to the Grand Pump Room to walk and, in Mother’s case, to take the waters. Charlie, intelligent chap that he was, never joined them.

  “An excellent connection, there,” Father said. “And that Miss Lancaster would be quite a feather in your quiver.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Father quickly realized the potential insult in the metaphor. “I hadn’t meant to be demeaning. Her standing in Society is second to none. That you can claim her as a friend will serve to elevate your standing. The possibility of something more is quite encouraging.”

  Light spilled in through the windows, brightly illuminating the space, in stark contrast to Newton’s dark and dreary mood as he discussed the current matter. His parents understood so little of what he wished for in life. “I am not interested in ‘something more.’”

  Mother patted his arm. “Perhaps not at this exact moment. But do keep your mind open to the possibility. She is a lovely young lady and precisely the sort we would wish for you.”

  Countless arguments immediately rose to mind. He knew better than to voice them. His parents had set their sights on more than just his future occupation—or the blocking of it, more accurately. They were also being dictatorial in the matter of his future spouse. It was a difficult thing to be so little understood.

  “If I will not be needed,” he said, “I believe I will take a turn about the room on my own. The space is a peaceful one.”

  That was something of a lie. Though Bath was not as highly sought-after a city as it had been mere years earlier, it was still popular enough for the Grand Pump Room to be fuller than Newton would have preferred. In that moment, though, he knew himself more equal to enduring the press of strangers than his parents’ intrusion.

  Mother nodded. “Take a turn, Newton. I mean to make slow work of the waters today.”

  He did not need to be told twice.

  A half circuit of the long, high-ceilinged room brought him, to his great surprise, face-to-face with Miss Lancaster and Miss Ellie Napper. He attempted to offer a quick nod and be on his way, but it was not to be.

  “We’d hoped to find you here,” Miss Lancaster said. “We are hatching a wonderfully clever scheme, and we need you to join in our conspiracy if we are to have any hope of success.”

  He was at an utter loss for a reply. They wished him to join in a plot? He hadn’t a long-standing association with either young lady, and neither did he suspect he’d given either one the impression that he was a
likely candidate for group mischief.

  “At least hear us out,” Miss Lancaster pleaded.

  He could see no means of escaping their explanation. It might even prove a little diverting. The heavens knew he could use a bit of lightening after his difficult interactions with his parents.

  He gave a slight nod.

  A grin spread across Miss Lancaster’s face. “Excellent.”

  Newton took a moment to study Miss Ellie. He couldn’t imagine her undertaking anything remotely likely to raise eyebrows. To his utter shock, he saw as much mischief in her eyes as he did in her companion’s. Entirely unexpected.

  “Let us continue our walk around the room,” Miss Lancaster suggested. “We will make you privy to the details of our plot.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, not requiring him to offer it. He did, however, undertake the niceties with Miss Ellie and, in the length of a breath, had a young lady on each arm as he resumed his walk around the Pump Room. It was an odd posture for one who tended toward quiet solitude or membership in the crowd of onlookers rather than the out-and-outers. Still, he was not complaining.

  “Here is our situation.” It was Miss Ellie and not Miss Lancaster who began the telling. “My parents are single-mindedly determined to see me make a match with Mr. Jonquil, which I don’t particularly care to pursue.”

  “No intelligent person would,” Miss Lancaster tossed in.

  “And my sister is equally determined to pursue you, Mr. Hughes,” Miss Ellie said. “Unless I entirely misread the situation, you are not particularly keen on that.”

  This was not the demure, quiet miss he’d interacted with thus far. There was a boldness to her no one would predict.

  “Have I misunderstood your feelings for my sister?” Miss Ellie pressed.

  “You have not.”

  Far from offended on her sister’s behalf, Miss Ellie nodded. “I suspected as much. It seems the four of us are in something of a bind.”

  “The five of us,” Newton corrected, drawing both their attention fully to him. “My father has latched on to the idea that Miss Lancaster would make me an excellent wife.”

  Miss Lancaster snorted. “We would be terribly ill-suited.”

  Indeed, they would. Newton enjoyed what he knew of Miss Lancaster, but he knew he would find her utterly exhausting were they to attempt to build any sort of life together.

  “Our plan is even more ingenious than we realized.” Miss Ellie leaned the tiniest bit forward and addressed her remark across him to Miss Lancaster. “It will rescue you as well.”

  His curiosity was thoroughly piqued but not the least satisfied. Part of him wondered how essential he actually was to this plan if they had already declared it a roaring success without informing him of any part of it.

  “We would like to recruit you for a vague and entirely fabricated courtship.” Miss Ellie’s eyes shone with merriment and mischief. “Nothing pointed, nothing that would cause whispers or raise expectations, but enough time and attention that my parents would not push me to throw myself at Charlie and my sister would relax her efforts in your direction.”

  That would certainly be an improvement.

  “And, Mr. Hughes,” Miss Lancaster joined the explanation, “seeing your interest directed elsewhere might convince your parents not to push you to pursue anything but a friendly connection to me.”

  He did like the escape they were offering, but his misgivings were plentiful. “This would require remarkable care. Should expectations be raised . . .”

  “We have thought of that,” Miss Ellie said. Heavens, she was actually bouncing a little. The humdrum young lady he’d encountered at the ball had disappeared entirely, replaced by, if he did not miss his mark, one as capable of legendary mischief as Charlie in his Eton days. “If most of our time together, the two of us, is spent in the company of both Artemis and Mr. Jonquil, then people will never be entirely certain if our connection is truly a budding courtship or simply an extension of the four of us being friends.”

  The four of us? Newton looked to Miss Lancaster. “Charlie has agreed to participate?”

  “He has.”

  “And does he know that—?” A careful tone seemed best when on such thin ice. “Is he aware you are part of the scheme?”

  She grinned. “That did give him pause. But in the end, his wish to not see you miserable outweighed his utterly nonsensical animosity toward me.”

  “You do enjoy poking at him,” Newton pointed out.

  She pressed her free hand to her heart in a show of feigned innocence. “I would never do any such thing.”

  “That is precisely the expert acting we will need if we are to be successful in this scheme,” Miss Ellie said.

  “I am ready to dedicate myself to this absurdly entertaining venture,” Miss Lancaster said. “Will you take up the cause, Mr. Hughes?”

  With this scheme, he could avoid Miss Napper’s trap, assist in Charlie’s escape from a similar situation, and perhaps loosen his parents’ grip on his future. “I believe I shall.”

  “Excellent.” Miss Lancaster pulled her arm from his. “I am going to go speak a moment with Miss Carlton—she is a dear friend, one of a few here in Bath just now. The two of you continue your circuit of the room, and I will rejoin you after a time.”

  Newton understood the strategy: he and Miss Ellie would be seen in each other’s company—exclusive company for a brief time—which would begin to lay the foundation of the ruse they were enacting without being the least shocking or inappropriate.

  Miss Lancaster slipped away.

  “She is a whirlwind, is she not?” Miss Ellie said.

  Newton kept an eye on the crowd around them, not wishing to cause a collision, but also watched Miss Ellie more closely. There was a time for silence and a time for speaking up. The current moment called for the latter. “Please be fully honest with me, Miss Ellie. Do you truly wish to undertake this campaign? I would not want you to be bullied into anything of which you are not truly in favor.”

  “I assure you, I am not being pressured into participation. Artemis and I hatched this scheme together.”

  She was quite full of surprises. Newton’s interactions with her up until this one had given the impression of an almost excessively prim young lady, one who would most certainly not whip up a plan for a feigned courtship. “And you are not bothered by the deception, Miss Ellie?”

  “Is not Society’s matrimonial dance one of deception?” she asked. “We are, at least, choosing to be honest with each other, something few would-be couples bother with.”

  There was a great deal of truth in that.

  “If we are to be co-conspirators,” she continued on, “I would welcome your use of my Christian name. Perhaps not in public—a scandal being a vastly different thing than a mere distraction—but at least when we are scheming together.”

  He sketched the tiniest bow, one likely a bit too formal for the decidedly informal conversation they were undertaking. “Very well, Ellie.”

  “I do not know your Christian name,” she said.

  He was agreeing to a most unusual arrangement with a young lady he knew so little that even his given name was a mystery to her. It was utterly out of character for him. Yet, he pressed on. “Newton.”

  “I do not believe I’ve known anyone whose given name was Newton. It is unique without being . . . odd.”

  He nodded. “I am not displeased with it.”

  “I do not feel that way about my Christian name, I assure you. It is both unusual and strange, and I do not like it at all.”

  “Hence your preference for Ellie.”

  “More than preference. Insistence.” She looked up at him.

  He had always liked brown eyes; he liked hers. “I will, of course, make certain to abide by that insistence.”

  She bit back a grin. “I cannot
imagine you did not notice how frequently my mother employs that phrase.”

  “Of course I did.”

  Her smile blossomed, her eyes dancing and sparkling. He had not expected to form an alliance with any young lady, but he was actually looking forward to the diversion this would no doubt prove to be: an unpredictable and excessively interesting lark.

  Chapter Five

  To Ellie’s delight, Artemis called the next day. She did not arrive alone but with two fashionable, distinguished young ladies their same age. Mother was too in awe to do anything but sit and watch them wide-eyed. Lillian sat among them as well, inserting herself into the conversation as often as possible. None of their visitors was the least bit rude or unkind, but no one could possibly think Lillian was the reason they had come to call.

  “Do say you will join our little band for the Dress Ball at the Upper Assembly Rooms on Monday,” Miss Mullins said. “We have such larks when we are together at Society functions.”

  The offer was directed to Ellie, exclusively to Ellie. Lillian was clearly not pleased. Mother, however, watched and listened with delight.

  “Might I attend with them?” Ellie asked, having maintained the demure aura her mother required, all the while nearly overwhelmed with excitement. She had longed for friends. Dreamed of having them. And here they were.

  “We only have a subscription to the Fancy Balls,” Mother reminded her in a tight whisper.

  “That is an easily rectified impediment.” Artemis spoke with the confidence only Society’s sweetheart could claim. “I have a subscription to both, and my Dress Ball subscription includes two transferable tickets. My brother allows me the choosing of who receives those.”

  “Two?” Lillian asked, her tone both pointed and excessively innocent.

  “That is the established number.” Artemis left her explanation at that, avoiding the invitation everyone must have known Lillian was angling for.

  “We mean to promenade along the Gravel Walk,” Miss Phelps said. She was quieter than her two friends but just as personable. “Will you come with us?”