The Best-Laid Plans Page 9

  “Is it so pathetic that I just want them to . . . like me?” Ellie felt ridiculous speaking the words out loud.

  “I think that makes you very human and not at all pathetic.”

  Ellie let her head drop against the back of the sofa. “I should just pack up my things and return home.”

  “Now that would be pathetic.” Artemis took Ellie’s hand and pulled her up from the sofa. “I can see we have work to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Artemis grinned at her, then released Ellie’s hand and walked at her side, waving her along when Ellie fell behind. Their path took them to the guest bedchamber Ellie was using.

  A woman stood inside whom Ellie had never seen before. Her deep-brown hair was pulled up in a perfectly executed chignon with a bright-red ribbon threaded throughout and just the perfect number of loose tendrils allowed to frame her face. Her dress of deepest blue, with red embroidered flowers, was more fashionable than lady’s maids were generally known to wear. Ellie knew there were no other guests staying in the home, and she did not think Artemis had received a caller. Who, then, was this unknown woman?

  “Ellie, this is Rose,” Artemis said. “She is a genius in matters of fabrics, color combinations, and accessorizing.”

  “Is she one of the Huntresses?” Ellie asked.

  Rose twisted her mouth in disapproval. “Hardly.”

  Artemis laughed. “Rose is far closer to being Leto than one of Artemis’s band.”

  Ellie shook her head. “You will never convince me Rose is old enough to be your mother.”

  A slow smile spread over Rose’s face. “I like you, Miss Ellie. I like you very much indeed.”

  Though Ellie did not know many people from India and had only rarely heard their flavor of English, there was no mistaking Rose hailed from that area of the world.

  “Do you like Ellie enough to help me undo the damage her mother has done to her fashionability?” Artemis asked.

  “I am neither Leto nor a miracle worker,” Rose said. “What I am is exceptionally good at what I do.”

  Ellie knew her parents would reprimand her for being too outspoken, but she pushed ahead with the question she was desperate to have answered. “And what is it, precisely, that you do?”

  “I am Artemis’s lady’s maid.”

  Ellie’s surprise must have shown.

  Artemis grew a bit stiff. “Do you disapprove of a woman from India acting as a lady’s maid?”

  “Not at all.” Ellie looked to Rose, hoping she had not given offense. “I was surprised only because you are dressed so fashionably, and I do not believe I have ever encountered a lady’s maid who was so incredibly à la mode.”

  Rose acknowledged that with a dip of her head. “That is not the most common objection I hear, you understand.”

  “I can imagine,” Ellie said.

  Artemis relaxed, her expression turning a little less warrior-like. She had clearly been ready to do battle.

  Rose, apparently satisfied with Ellie’s explanation, crossed to the clothe press and pulled open the doors containing Ellie’s rather pathetic wardrobe. “This is what I have to work with, is it?”

  “Sadly, yes,” Artemis said. “And, of course, anything amongst my clothing that you think might be useful. Mrs. Lancaster has made the same offer.”

  “I don’t wish to take clothes from your sister-in-law,” Ellie objected.

  “It will give her an excuse to procure something new,” Artemis said. “My brother informs me she is forever insisting no money be spent on her. Breaks his heart. If we use anything of hers, she will not be able to deny him the opportunity to spoil her a little.”

  It was one of the most endearing things Ellie had ever heard said about a husband in regard to his wife. How could her parents not want her to marry someone who adored her that much? How different her life would be than the one she would live if married to a man who cared nothing for her.

  “What you selected for her yesterday was quite flattering,” Rose said. “Though I still maintain that more gold threading and a larger selection of bold colors would do English fashion a world of good.” She spoke in a tone that clearly indicated this was not the first time the topic had been raised between them.

  “I do not disagree with you, but we have to work within the confines we have been given.” Artemis pulled out an armful of Ellie’s dresses, which amounted to all of them, and laid them on the bed. “Undermining assumptions requires finesse.”

  “For some assumptions, there is not enough finesse in all the world,” Rose said.

  Artemis didn’t argue. She motioned to the pile of dresses. “Which of these is salvageable, do you think?”

  The two began evaluating every piece of outer clothing Ellie had. Realizing she was not necessary to the endeavor, Ellie lowered herself into the chair near the window and waited. Part of her felt a bit left out, but listening to these women who knew vastly more than she did on such a complicated topic was fascinating.

  They spoke of trims and necklines and silhouettes. They waxed long and deep about fabrics and patterns. The dresses were sorted into piles Artemis and Rose seemed to both understand but that were a complete mystery to Ellie.

  Rose stepped out of the room at one point. Artemis didn’t turn her attention to Ellie but kept up her examination and evaluation of the dresses on the bed before her.

  “My figure is not particularly suited to current fashions,” Ellie said. “That will likely present you significant difficulties.”

  “Is that something your mother has said to you?” Artemis asked, eyeing one of Ellie’s gowns closely.

  “Frequently.”

  Artemis looked over her shoulder at her. “The styles she has chosen for you are not the right ones for you. They do not flatter your figure.”

  “Can anything?” Ellie tried not to be overly sensitive about her more ample proportions, but she was not unaware of them.

  That brought Artemis around fully, looking at her as if she’d just grown a second nose. “Of course. Oh, Ellie, any number of fashionable silhouettes and cuts would look marvelous on you.”

  “I’m not exactly slender. And I’m rather short. That combination is not one likely to earn me any accolades.”

  “You wait until Rose and I have your dresses sorted,” Artemis said, turning back to the dresses on the bed. “You’ll realize that height and slimness do not define beauty. The right clothing makes a world of difference.”

  Ellie felt a little better. “You enjoy this.”

  A satisfied smile spread across Artemis’s face. “I enjoy few things more than designing and creating a wardrobe. Sadly, it is not a profession open to a lady. Though I would dearly love to do it more, I dare not press my luck too far.”

  “Because ‘undermining assumptions requires finesse’?”

  Artemis’s expression turned quieter and a little wearier. “And more patience than I fear I have.”

  Rose returned in the next moment, three gowns hung over one arm and several lengths of ribbon, lace, and other trims draped over the other. “If you have any patience, I would be quite surprised.”

  Artemis exchanged an amused look with Ellie. “Do you see why I think of her as Leto? Only a mother would dare be so blunt.”

  “She’s far kinder than my mother,” Ellie said. “Would you consider adopting me, Rose? Or taking on the role of older sister? I also have a less-than-ideal one of those.”

  “Promise you will be better behaved than Artemis, and I will accept.”

  The two women were soon fully engrossed once more in the matter of Ellie’s wardrobe. They worked remarkably well together, both quickly understanding each other’s ideas and visions. How long had Rose been acting in the capacity of Artemis’s lady’s maid? Either they had known each other a long time to allow such familiarity, or they were simp
ly remarkably well-matched.

  Whatever the history there, Ellie was grateful for the two of them. Though she couldn’t be certain they were motivated by concern for her more than their love of fashion, she was still unspeakably happy they were helping her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Newton had laughed out loud when Charlie had read him the summons he had received from Artemis. “Summons” truly was the only way to describe the letter. Artemis Lancaster never did do things by half. Their presence, the note said, was required at the Lancaster house for a clandestine venture of utmost importance. Seeing as the last plot he’d been invited to join had been the courtship with Ellie, he was beside himself with anticipation about what this latest development would be.

  Henson answered the door with as little pomposity as ever. Perhaps someday when Newton had a place of his own, he would find himself a butler exactly like this ragamuffin one.

  How odd it was that he found himself so delighted to be in this house when he severely disliked being in his parents’ house. Family ought to be the people with whom one was the most at ease, the most happy. Based on Ellie’s explanation of her own family as well as his observations of them, he suspected she would not have found that to be true either. He worried about her, especially after the note she had received from her parents. Artemis had promised to prevent Ellie’s required return home, and Newton hoped Ellie was happy as a permanent guest in someone else’s home.

  They were deposited in the usual sitting room with the usual lack of explanation. They knew from experience that Henson understood what came next, but he didn’t always acknowledge that he knew. He would learn in time.

  “What do you think this latest scheme is?” Charlie asked. “Considering Artemis appears to be at the helm of it, I find myself rather terrified.”

  “And yet you came so willingly,” Newton said. “You make quite a show of disliking her, but I find myself beginning to suspect that Miss Sham-caster does not meet with your disapproval as much as you have indicated she has.”

  “I do not wholly disapprove of her,” Charlie said. “I simply do not mindlessly admire her as so many do.”

  “When one considers the kindness she has shown our new friend Ellie and her sincere embracing of the Huntresses—young ladies often in difficult circumstances—then, no matter that she is a bit bold and brash in her approach, one cannot genuinely argue that she is not worthy of admiration.”

  Charlie sighed. “I am not unaware of her good qualities.”

  Interesting. “Then why do you feel such animosity toward her?”

  “Because she is disingenuous. She’s playing a part, and in a way one does not generally see in Society. Most people assume more stiff and unyielding manners when mingling with the ton, but she takes the role-playing much further than that. Her mask is more than mere politeness; it is deceptive, intentionally and unnecessarily so. I can’t like that.”

  Newton kept his peace. Charlie’s oldest brother played a role as well, that of a dandy. Some of the persona seemed quite real. He clearly had a flair for fashion and had a remarkable sense of humor. He seemed to take great delight in absurdity. But there was an aspect of it that even a minimally discerning eye would recognize as being assumed. It seemed best, though, not to point that out. Charlie had a bit of a difficult connection with his family, a tension despite his very real love of them. It was possible that struggle influenced his reaction to their mutual friend.

  The lady herself arrived in the room in the next moment. As usual, she wore an expression of such deep-seated mischief Newton couldn’t help but smile. He’d done that more and more often the past weeks. It was a change in him, a change that he liked.

  Charlie stood quietly, watching Artemis with an expression Newton at first interpreted as unmitigated disapproval. But looking more closely, evaluating more deeply, he could see there was something else in his eyes. Charlie wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Artemis. He spoke as if he had decided the entirety of her character, but that wasn’t the case at all. Charlie was still trying to sort her out.

  “What scheme have you thought up this time?” Newton asked.

  Artemis sat. They followed suit.

  “Not a scheme,” Artemis said. “I need your help.”

  “Help?” Charlie asked, disbelief ringing in the single word. “I didn’t think goddesses ever needed help with anything.”

  “Well, this is a task for mere mortals. So I thought immediately of you.”

  Charlie leaned back in his chair. “Typical.”

  Newton thought it best to head off any squabble before it began. “What is it you need us to do?”

  “Practice.”

  He suspected Artemis made the mysterious pronouncement on purpose. She did enjoy drama.

  “Practice what, precisely?” he asked.

  “I am tutoring someone who is in need of practicing what she is learning.”

  That wasn’t any more illuminating than her much shorter pronouncement a moment earlier.

  “I’m afraid we are going to need more information,” Newton said.

  Artemis waved that off. “It really is quite simple. A young lady needs a bit of practice being more astute in the ways of Society, more bold in advocating for herself. I’ve been helping her understand the intricacies of that. While she is learning a great deal, nothing can take the place of actual practice. And I knew the two of you would be kind to her while she is learning.”

  It was an unlooked-for compliment. Newton didn’t consider himself particularly savvy in social matters. And Charlie never received a compliment from her ever.

  “You are not doing this as some sort of a joke, are you?” Charlie asked. “I won’t be part of an effort to embarrass some poor soul simply for your entertainment.”

  The dramatics dropped away on the instant. A flush of angry color touched Artemis’s cheek. “I know you do not think highly of me, Mr. Jonquil, but I’m not a monster, and I never inflict pain on vulnerable people. Not ever.”

  Charlie nodded, though whether he was truly convinced or simply wishing to move on with the undertaking, Newton couldn’t decide.

  “We will most certainly help,” Newton said.

  “I was hopeful you would,” Artemis said. “My protégé will be down in only a moment.”

  Ellie must’ve known about this undertaking as well. She couldn’t live in the same house and not be aware of such a project. Footsteps sounded just outside the door. Newton rose, as did Charlie.

  The person who entered wasn’t a stranger, nor a put-upon tragic lady at the mercy of a cruel joke. Ellie herself stepped inside. She was dressed in a lovely pink-and-white striped gown he didn’t think he’d seen her wear before. She looked lovely in it.

  Her dress was not the only thing new about her. Something different had been done with her hair. It was somehow both simpler and more elegant than the way she’d worn it before. He liked it very much indeed.

  “Ellie.” Artemis waved her inside. “Charlie and Newton have agreed, just as I assured you they would.”

  “Are you horribly embarrassed on my behalf?” she asked them.

  Charlie’s kind heart showed in that moment. His expression was empathetic without being pitying. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. You are a dear friend, Ellie. I will gladly help you whenever and however you wish me to.”

  Ellie smiled softly. Newton was pleased to see it but wished it were directed at him.

  “She hardly needs tutoring in how to navigate in Society,” Charlie said. “She has done perfectly well every time I’ve been in company with her.”

  Artemis nodded. “I haven’t been teaching her to function; I’ve been helping her be more herself, more boldly herself.”

  “I don’t understand.” Newton addressed the remark to both ladies.

  Ellie answered. “My family has a tendency to b
erate me into hiding and keeping silent.” She looked to Charlie. “I don’t think I said a word to you during your visit to Shropshire last year. I was too terrified, not of you but of my family, who made me too afraid to say a thing. The few times I have dared to be myself, I’ve been quite thoroughly scolded. It was far safer to hide myself away.”

  How well Newton related to that sentiment. His family was forever pushing him into silence as well.

  “First, Ellie, I think we should practice witty conversation,” Artemis said.

  “Ellie is already witty,” Newton objected.

  Artemis gave him such a melodramatically dry look, they all laughed. Newton did not use to do that so easily. “I didn’t say she needed to practice being witty; she simply needs to allow that wit to shine in conversation. Ladies are too often told they should make themselves seem deeply stupid when talking with . . . well, with anyone, really. But with practice, being herself will come more naturally.”

  Ellie appeared to be enjoying herself, which made participating in the practice all the more appealing. Artemis motioned for her to begin a conversation.

  “We have been enjoying very mild weather of late,” she said.

  Artemis didn’t object to the commonplace conversation starter.

  Charlie assumed a languid posture. He fussed with the cuffs of his jacket, his expression both a bit arrogant and a significant amount urbane. “Excellent weather when one wishes to be seen to advantage, as one always ought.”

  It was an absolutely perfect impression of his dandified oldest brother. So bang up to the mark, in fact, that the other three burst into laughter. He raised a brow, another affectation of the earl’s, and they were lost in mirth once more.

  Over the course of their witty conversation practice, Charlie amazed the ladies with his remarkable talent for mimicry. Newton had known him too long to not already be acquainted with that side of him. He played roles ranging from Artemis’s infamous brother-in-law to the Prince Regent himself. He had the group in such a constant state of merriment that any nervousness Ellie might have felt would have most certainly melted away.