How to Catch an Earl with Ten Lies: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Patricia Haverton

  The clerk’s voice continued to drone on through several pages of document. Then he read, “ . . . and should aforesaid spouse inherit aught from any source after the marriage . . .”

  Oh, this was the delicious part. That part that would be the undoing of both Castlemount and Newhorn. How dare Castlemount to offer Newhorn one of his nieces? Why should Newhorn be happy when he had done his best to destroy Steelfrost’s happiness at every turn? He would reduce the puppy to pitiful and futile whining before this was all over.

  “ . . . then all such assets would then devolve to the party of the first part and to his heirs from any provenance . . .”

  The clerk’s voice continued to drone on, grinding inexorably through added conditions and considerations to the final pages of the document.

  “Does it please you, Lord Steelfrost?” Robert Bastion looked at him expectantly.

  “It does. Masterfully done, young Bastion.” Lord Steelfrost chose to ignore the clerk’s wince at the word “young”. “You have done very well for me. Now, all that remains is to persuade the principles to sign it, and all shall be put to rest.” Yes, indeed, like a sword to the heart or a musket ball to the chest.

  “Then I will send it up for copying, Lord Steelfrost.”

  “Copying?”

  “Why, yes, my lord. All documents are copied in triplicate. The originals are then filed, a copy placed in vault storage and a copy to you and to the other designated parties. Sometimes that results in more than three copies to be made. Our clerks are very good, Lord Steelfrost, and all documents are absolutely confidential.”

  “How can you be sure of this confidentiality, Bastion?”

  Mr. Bastion held his fist before his face, and coughed into it once. “Because, my lord, all the clerks are sons of either one of the senior Bastions or Mr. Harrington. Any questions or concerns are arbitrated by the senior partners.”

  “Perhaps we could refrain from all this copying, for once? Or perhaps you could make the copies?”

  “Well, it isn’t usually my job, but I suppose I could. As a special favor to you, Lord Steelfrost.”

  “I will make it worth your while,” Lord Steelfrost purred. And then I will make sure of the secrecy until the proper time comes. Dead men tell no tales.

  “I will see to it today, and have your copy in your hand by the end of the week. It is a pleasure to be of service, Lord Steelfrost.” The clerk rose and bowed to precisely the correct depth.

  Lord Steelfrost gave him a nod, and said, “I’ll see myself out. No need to trouble yourself.”

  Lord Steelfrost placed his hat upon his head, and strode out into the street. He hopped up into his curricle, gave a nod to his tiger and held his prime pair at a prancing standstill while the slender lad hopped up behind. He then loosed the reins and sent his horses up the street toward the residential sections and Pinehaven Park. It was about the time of day when he had been seeing Lord Newhorn and a certain young lady out walking or riding.

  Rumor had it that Lord Newhorn was paying court to Edith Chapman, but it had been Penelope Chapman with whom Steelfrost had glimpsed the erstwhile Benjamin Gray, and Edith Chapman who had been visiting Lady Agatha, even though she introduced herself as Penelope It gave him great pleasure to be able to deliver a coup de grace to the House of Newhorn. No, it would be his greatest pleasure. Nor did he mind having a little fun along the way. He chuckled softly to himself as he drove toward the park.

  I will break him. I will break him, even as he broke me and brought me low. But I did not remain low. No, I have risen and when I am done with him, he will wish that my vengeance was something as simple as a musket ball to the chest. Yes, and I will break that disgusting vixen that he used as an excuse while I am about it. For the two of them caused my Florence to kill herself, as sure as if one of them had shot her.

  Chapter 36

  Penelope scampered up the steps of the Castlemount townhouse, her face aglow with the joy of a day of being outside. The ride outside the park had done wonders for her spirits, and she felt as if she could take on the whole world.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Chapman,” Marpole greeted her repressively. “The mat is clean and ready for wiping of feet.”

  “Oh, Marpole! Just because I am in my twenties, that does not mean you have to be so roundabout when asking me to wipe my feet.”

  “Very well, Miss Chapman. The mat is clean and ready for wiping feet, and I do note that you are freshly come from the stable yard.”

  Penelope glanced at her riding boots, and obligingly wiped them on the mat. Nothing too dire appeared on its pristine surface.

  “Your sister and maid are waiting in your chambers, along with an important missive.”

  Penelope could almost see the initial capital letters on the words “important missive.”

  “And,” Marpole went on, “There is a gentleman waiting for you in the little parlor. Your uncle has asked to be informed when you return, and he will meet with you directly.”

  Penelope felt all the joy of her afternoon with Lord Newhorn wash away from her. Had her uncle found out their deception? Did he realize that Edith was meeting with her young friend at Lady Agatha’s? Or had Edith brought home another stray of some sort with her?

  “I’ll go up at once, Marpole. And you may let my uncle know that I will be available in less than a single glass.”

  Although the lightness had gone out of her day, Penelope made her feet trip lightly up the stairs. As promised, when she entered her chambers, Edith and Stella were waiting for her.

  “I’ve laid out a fresh dress . . . .” Stella began to say, while Edith blurted out, “Did you tell him? What did he say?”

  “Stop! Stop!” Penelope cried, “I shall have the headache if you both keep shouting at me. It is quite disconcerting. Edith, come talk with me while Stella helps me dress.”

  In short order, Stella had Penelope out of her riding habit and into a proper afternoon gown, suitable for receiving guests.

  While Stella helped her with the clothing, Penelope said, “No, I didn’t tell him. He was blue-deviled today, and I simply had not the heart.”

  “Oh, Penny, this is the worst tangle. Perhaps I should simply have accepted Lord Newhorn’s proposal in the first place. But that would mean being separated from Alfred forever and ever! No matter how hard he might work or save, we could never be together.”

  “Why? What has happened? Who is this gentleman who is waiting in the little parlor?”

  “It is Lord Steelfrost, Penny, and he has come to offer for your hand!”

  “But I turned him down not long before Christmas. Does not ‘no’ mean ‘no’?”

  “He says that he has come as a favor to our uncle to make you a second offer. Oh, Penelope! Those ships that went down had trade goods that were destined for the markets here in London. Uncle had invested in them or something, and now the investment is completely gone!”

  “Then we shall simply go over to Mrs. Albright’s agency and sign up to hire ourselves out for work,” Penelope declared, pulling herself away from Stella’s ministering hands.

  “Oh, no, Penny! It is much worse than that. Uncle borrowed money from Lord Steelfrost. If it is not repaid right away, he can send us all to the poor house or worse.”

  “There is not too much worse than the poor house. I am sure we will find some way to come about. Uncle has always been clever in that way.”

  At that moment, their uncle tapped lightly at the door. “Penelope?” he called. “Are you ready?”

  “Nearly so, Uncle Horace,” Penelope called. “You can come in.”

  Their uncle stepped into their withdrawing room. The young ladies and Stella came out of Penelope’s dressing room.

  “It still smells of cat in here,” their uncle complained. “Are you sure you cleaned thoroughly?”

  “Very thoroughly, My Lord,” Stella replied. “I had the scullery maid and the kennel master come up to help. But it does take time to get rid of it all. Ventor found some
mint-scented candles to burn in here. They do help.”

  “I’ll just stand here at the doorway, then. Hopefully, it will all be gone eventually.” Uncle Horace stepped back until he was nearly in the hallway, and mopped at his streaming eyes. “Did Stella and Edith tell you about our visitor?”

  “Yes, they did. Uncle, how could you borrow money from him? Did you not hear the gossip?”

  “You know I pay very little heed to that, Penelope.”

  “For just this once, I wish you had. Uncle, I refused him because he foreclosed on the family of a dear friend of mine. I suppose that my acquiescence dissolves your debts?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean, ‘not exactly.’ Uncle…?”

  “I am sorry, my dears. It is much deeper than that. He says that he will only wipe out my debt if not only do you marry Lord Steelfrost, but also that Edith marries Lord Newhaven. It seems that their investments are somehow entwined.”

  Edith went white as a sheet and sat down heavily on the sofa. Penelope went to her sister, sat next to her, and put her arms around her. “Uncle, in one fell swoop, you have sunk all our hopes. I put no faith in Steelfrost’s promises. Pray, do not sign an agreement with him until you can have your solicitor read through it very carefully.”

  Uncle Horace sighed heavily. “The documents are with my solicitor, even as we speak. But my dearest nieces, if those ships do not dock on the morrow, we are indeed ruined. Perhaps I should not have invested so heavily in companies shipping goods from India, but with Napoleon snugged up on his island, and peace having been made with the colonies, I thought it safe enough.”

  Penelope sighed. “Uncle, I know you have not often shared your business dealings with us. But I think it might have been a mistake. Have we truly been sailing so close to the wind as all that?”

  “Not every year,” he temporized. “Some years have been better than others. But my brother had only a moderate understanding of business, and our father was entirely profligate with his funds. I had begun to pull us up out of the depths, but now this . . .”

  “It is Steelfrost who is waiting?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is. He would speak with you.”

  “Very well. I shall go down. But I will tell you, Uncle Horace, that what I plan to do is to bargain for time. I shall invite him to come to dinner two days hence to hear my reply.”

  “Thank you, Penelope,” Uncle Horace said.

  “Don’t thank me yet, Uncle. I have not said yes. I said I will speak with him. Meanwhile, I intend to do all in my power to prevent this evil thing from coming to pass. I just have a few fences to mend first.”

  “Niece, I wish you would simply accept the gentleman and not put him off. Our straits are dire. Both of you are tender lambs that I would not put out among the wolves.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment, Uncle Horace. But I believe you already have.” With that, Penelope brushed past him, and went on downstairs to the little parlor.

  Chapter 37

  Benjamin smiled when, upon awakening and going downstairs, the first thing he saw on the entry table was a note with Miss Chapman’s handwriting upon it. Even though he had started their ride off with that rambling disclosure about his sister and the duel he had deeply enjoyed his afternoon. It was perhaps the first time he had enjoyed anything to such great extent since his sister’s death.

  He sat down to breakfast, and opened the note.

  Dear Lord Newhorn,

  Could you please call upon me at my Uncle’s townhouse perhaps for morning tea?

  Yours sincerely,

  Miss Chapman

  He noticed a splotch on the creamy paper. Was that a tear stain? What could be so important that he should call at the townhouse?

  “Grantham!” he called.

  The butler put in an appearance immediately. “Yes, my lord?”

  “What time is it?”

  Grantham stepped to the dining hall door and looked at the large floor clock in the hallway. “Half-past nine, my lord. Is there a matter of some urgency?”

  “You could say that,” Benjamin said. “But I think I will have time enough.” He bolted his breakfast and then hurried upstairs to find his valet.

  Once he was suitably attired for a morning visit, Benjamin set out at a brisk walk for the Castlemount townhouse. It was not far, and by leaving his horse and conveyance at home, he was freed from the necessity of seeing to his mount. The weather was fine, just warming up into a lovely summer day.

  In no time at all, he arrived at the Castlemount front steps. He was greeted by Marpole. Benjamin wondered if the old fellow would continue on as a butler until he was too old to move. As it was, Benjamin had to modify his stride to keep from running him over. It was very difficult to be patient. What could be so upsetting that Miss Chapman is crying? She never cried, unless there was a supremely good reason.

  Benjamin found both Misses Chapman waiting for him in a small dining room just off the main hall. His Miss Chapman poured tea, preparing it just as he liked it, and set it down in front of him. He took a sip. “I came as soon as I could,” he said. “I was very nearly late, but here I am.”

  “I am glad you are here,” said the Miss Chapman with whom he had been sharing picnics. “This is going to be somewhat difficult.”

  He took another sip of tea. “Oh? How so?”

  His Miss Chapman took a sip of tea, as if to fortify herself. “I am not quite who you think I am.”

  Benjamin took this to be an extension of some of their more philosophical discussions. “Then who are you, fair lady? Are you a princess in disguise? Are you an enchantress from some distant isle?

  “I could only wish,” she said, tears beginning to run down her face. “You are going to be so very angry with me.”

  “I’m sorry. Why would I be angry? What could you have possibly done to make me feel that way?

  “I’m not Edith Chapman, I’m Penelope.” There was a little tremble in her voice. Her face was white, and a brilliant red spot adorned both cheeks.

  “You are not Edith, you are Penelope? You are the older sister?”

  Penelope nodded. “I was afraid that you were some sort of horrible person who would be cruel to Edith. She is far too shy and retiring to stand up for herself. So we traded places. It was only supposed to be for a day or two.”

  “You traded places,” Benjamin said slowly. He felt as if a moment ago he had been on solid ground, only now it had suddenly turned to quicksand.

  Penelope nodded again. “Yes. I wanted to protect Edith. I didn’t know that the more I knew of you, the better I would like you.” Tears continued to run down her face, but she did not look away or flinch from his gaze. The saucy mouth that had so often laughed, told fanciful tales, and generally entertained him was turned down at the corners. Her lower lip trembled and she bit it as if to keep it steady.

  “So this was all a sham? Riding out with me, discussing politics, the whole of it was a lie?” Benjamin started to bolt up out of his chair.

  “No, no, please, Lord Newhorn,” Edith spoke up softly. “I’m Edith. I couldn’t bear meeting with you, at first. Then something wonderful happened to me. I met someone and fell in love, but we were afraid to tell my uncle, because he is not going to like my choice. Please listen, and please don’t blame Penny too much.”

  Benjamin sat back slowly. “You lied to me,” he said, fixing his eyes on Penelope.

  “Only a little,” she said. “Only on the first day. I am Miss Chapman. Just not the Miss Chapman you thought you were seeing. I’m Miss Penelope Chapman. Oh, please, My Lord, I did not want it to all end!”

  “It’s my fault,” Edith put in. “You have a very wicked reputation, Lord Newhorn, what with duels and dead sisters, and running away to France. I was afraid, and then I met Alfred”

  “Afraid? Afraid of me?” Benjamin could scarcely believe his ears. It seemed as if the black days just before he left England were closing in around him. “That duel was fought to p
rotect a lady’s reputation. I had to leave England because I nearly killed the other man to protect her. I’ve spent nearly ten years away from the country that I love because the blackguard had the effrontery to seek justice. Justice! Words cannot convey.”

  “You’ve told me a great deal about it, m’lord,” Miss Penelope Chapman spoke up now. “I felt so awful yesterday when you told me about your sister. What could I say? I intended to tell you then. That was one reason I suggested a day of riding. Only . . .” she swallowed hard, “Only I was having such a good time that I could not bear to bring it to an end. But it does have to end, doesn’t it? Because lives cannot be built upon a lie.”