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

by Patricia Haverton

  “Yes, Lady Agatha, in due time I hope to better my lot. But right now, I do have a pressing need to find Miss Penelope.”

  “Penelope.” Benjamin’s eyebrows knitted in thought. “Miss Penelope Chapman?”

  “The very one! Have you seen her? Her sister, Edith Chapman, said that she was coming here. I very much need to talk with her before something truly dreadful…oh, Lud! You are Lord Newhorn!”

  “Yes, I believe Lady Agatha did say that,” Benjamin said.

  “Oh, good! Because, my lord, I need to speak to you as well. It is a matter of greatest urgency!”

  “Me? Why do you need to see me?”

  “It is a very tangled matter, Lord Newhorn, but I think it would be easier to explain it if I had everyone together in one place. Besides, we need to find Miss Penelope posthaste. If she isn’t here, I’m not sure where else to look.”

  Chapter 42

  Edith sat forlornly on the sofa in the drawing room she shared with her sister. If only I had not been such a coward. I could have told Lord Newhorn directly that I was not interested. Or I could have told Uncle Horace to have suggested Penny instead. Then she would never have pretended to be me.

  Stella came in with a tea tray and set it down on the table. “There is no point in sitting there moping, Miss Edith. She will turn up, and she will forgive you, I am sure of it. You know Miss Penelope can never stay mad very long.”

  “I know. But what if something happens to her while she is out? What if she is run over by a carriage? Or abducted? Or she falls in the river? Or, worse yet, she throws herself into the Thames?”

  “Your sister has too much good sense to fall or jump into any river. She also understands horses and London traffic. Should she be abducted, I certainly pity the abductor. She will be fine, and she will turn up when she is ready.”

  “But what if she isn’t fine? Oh, Stella, I will never forgive myself if something awful happens to her.”

  “Now, then, Miss Edith, drink some of this nice chamomile tea Mr. Ventor has made for you. He will be very disappointed if you do not at least taste these lovely creme puffs, or the calf’s foot jelly. Come now, you will make yourself sick if you do not eat, and then Miss Penelope will be completely out of patience with us both.”

  Edith picked up the cup. She hated the flavor of chamomile, but Ventor had a way of adding a little mint and something else to it that made the vile stuff tolerable. She took a little sip. It tasted of honey and mint and that something else. She did not feel like rewarding herself with creme puffs, so she picked up a piece of toasted bread and spread it with a little of the calf’s foot jelly.

  The bread smeared with the high-protein gelatinous stuff woke up her appetite, and she realized that she was truly hungry. She quickly ate the rest of the bread, and began to feel better.

  “You think she will be home soon?” Edith asked Stella, who was quietly setting the room to rights while the younger of her charges was eating.

  “I do,” Stella said stoutly. “You know she always turns up right as rain after one of these distempers. She loves you very much, and would do nearly anything to keep you safe and happy.”

  “I know,” Edith sniffled a little, and took a bite of creme puff. “That makes it so much worse when I’m to blame for this mess.”

  “Are you?” Stella fixed her with a stare. “As I recall, Miss Penelope offered to take your role. Then, she continued to meet with Lord Newhorn in your name. She could have refused to see him after finding the newspaper article about the duel. Don’t take too much onto yourself, Miss Edith.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Edith said. Suddenly the creme puff didn’t seem so much like a reward for misbehaving. She took another bite. Ventor made the most divine creme puffs. When they bought them from the local tea shops they were never as nice as his.

  “That is not to say that you are not also culpable, Miss Edith,” Stella said, recognizing the signs of self-justification. “You should have told your uncle that you were not interested in the gentleman, but that you thought Miss Penelope might be interested instead.”

  “Oh, Stella. I just couldn’t. I love Uncle Horace, but he is always so gruff. Very kind, of course, but not always comfortable.”

  “That is to be expected. He has had to be as a father to the two of you, so comfortable is frequently not the best plan. But I can promise you that no man has ever doted on a pair of young ladies the way your uncle dotes on the two of you.”

  “Which means I should have been able to tell him. But I just couldn’t. Oh, Stella, you are very kind, but this is very much my mess.”

  Stella sighed. “And, to some degree, mine. I should never have agreed to cover for the two of you. James is feeling the same weight of guilt.”

  “Where is James, anyway?”

  “Out looking for your sister. Young Mr. Harrington has gone to Lady Agatha to see if she is there, and James is looking in all her favorite places to see if she has run to one of them. I think Mr. Harrington told you where he was going.”

  “He did say something, but I was so distraught. I remember he said to wait here in case Penny came home while they were out looking.”

  “Good. I’m glad you remember that much. Now, you and I need to scrub down these rooms again to see if we can get the cat odor out of them. Your uncle should not be made ill when he visits you. That will keep your mind off your troubles while you wait.”

  “Idle hands, Stella?” Edith gave the maid a watery smile.

  “Idle hands, Miss Edith. I cannot compel you to help, of course. But I believe it will make the time pass more quickly. Better to be doing something useful than to be sitting about just waiting. Now, finish up your tea because we will both need our strength.”

  Edith sniffled, but finished off her second creme puff and her tea. By the last sip and bite her eyelids began to droop. “I’ll just put my feet up for a minute,” she said, curling up on the sofa. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep.

  Stella heaved a quiet sigh of relief. She did need to thoroughly clean the room again, but it was far more important to see after her young charge’s health. Now, she was the only one left to fret over the other Miss Chapman’s whereabouts.

  Chapter 43

  Penelope read carefully through the long contract in front of her. “Do people really sign these?”

  “Oh, yes,” Said Mrs. Albright. “Often having no idea what is in them.”

  “I guess the next question is, do householders really expect this kind of dedicated behavior.”

  “Of course they do, Miss Chapman. I suspect that if you read through the contracts for your own household, you would find very similar items.”

  “But they have no time for themselves. They go to bed at a certain time, get up at a certain time, work every minute all day, and have only a half day off. They must attend church. When do they get a chance to read? To enjoy themselves?”

  “Miss Chapman, you must understand. For most people of the serving class, their jobs are their identity. It is a chance to have a home, to have food, and to have shelter. Reading and enjoying themselves is the last thing on their minds.”

  “Is this how Stella and James live? Have I been treating them this way?”

  “Possibly. But possibly not. But if you choose to go into service, you will be choosing this life. If you have a kind employer, it might be better. But it could easily be worse. Since very few of the working class can scarcely do more than write their names, or at the very most, decipher a grocery list, so they have very little idea of what it is they are agreeing to. Even if they do, they have very little recourse if they are treated badly.”

  “But that is dreadful. How can anyone live like this?”

  “Far more easily than on the streets.” Mrs Albright regarded Penelope steadily. So this is Penelope Chapman. If her uncle’s ships have gone down, it is understandable that she might try to mend her fortunes before being put on the street. But I must ask myself whether she is about to ruin Benjam
in or if she has some other motive for being here?

  Penelope sighed. “Which is where my sister and I will be if I do not do something. But I am not at all sure I can face this, either.”

  “Very few who are not born into it find it endurable. And some who were, grow to find it intolerable. That is why the ships bound for America or for Australia rarely go empty.”

  “But you broke out of it,” Penelope pointed out.

  “Do you dance, Miss Chapman?”

  “Moderately well.”

  “Do you sing?”

  “Not well enough to be enjoyed, although I like to sing.”

  “I was well trained to dance, sing, write a letter, hold a tea, and how to delicately flirt with a gentleman to engage his interest, but not allow him liberties. I danced beautifully, and obtained a position as a chorus girl. But my mother knew, and I knew that a chorus girl’s career is very short. I was highly accomplished and much sought after, but except for those times when I had a gentleman sponsor, I lived like a little church mouse. I tucked away every shilling I could possibly save.”

  “Which led to this school?”

  “Oh, dear, no. I had dreams, but could not save nearly enough on the pittance paid a chorus girl. Because I maintained my purity, I did not earn the little extras that the girls who invited gentlemen into the back room earned.”

  “So, how…?”

  “One day, I caught the eye of a schoolboy. A youth, barely eighteen. Well, I was no more than sixteen, myself. He was so very handsome! I declare I fancied myself in love with him! He brought me flowers, and candies.” Mrs. Albright smiled, her eyes fixed into the distance, as if seeing a pleasant memory. “He even rented a little room for me. It was scarcely better than the one I could afford for myself, but it was shillings that did not come out of my pocket. Best of all, he did not expect anything more than a little supper now and then or a rubber or two of cards in the evening, and perhaps a few kisses upon departure.”

  “What happened next?” Penelope asked, intrigued with this romantic passage.

  “What happened next is complicated. My young patron had a sister who was betrothed to a gentleman not much older than the three of us. He fancied that if I was giving time to my patron, that I should be willing to give him what no one had ever had. He tried to force his attentions upon me, even though I told him no. As bad luck would have it, his betrothed and I had become friends because we both helped with the charity bazaars.”

  Mrs. Albright paused a moment. How much should she tell this young lady? Perhaps everything except the names. Only Benjamin knew the whole story.

  “My friend was angry. She blamed my young patron for putting me in a position where men might expect …um… certain things of me. Before I could explain that it was not his fault, she flung out of my little room. I am not sure what happened next. But it was the talk of the town that they quarreled, and that my friend was thrown from her horse and killed.”

  Mrs. Albright blinked for a moment or two, then swallowed once.

  “The next day, my young patron accosted him, and called him out. The poor dear boy shot the rude fellow in the shoulder, barely missing his vitals. The injured man was a peer, and my sweet school boy was forced to flee to the continent.”

  “Oh, dear! But didn’t that leave you to the mercy of the rude man?”

  “It would have, except that the young gentleman left word with his father that I was to be supported. I’m not sure what his father thought, but he arranged for me to meet and marry Mr. Albright.”

  “Did you love Mr. Albright?”

  “Oh, dear, no. Not in the way that you mean, although I grew quite fond of him after a time. Then the poor soul died in his sleep one night. Gave me quite a turn, it did, waking up beside a corpse.”

  “That must have been horrible.”

  “It could have been, but my young gentleman’s father kindly recommended me to his own solicitor, and all was brought off quite unexceptionally. Mr. Albright had made provision for me, and my former patron’s father made a small bequest and helped set up the school.”

  “And the agency?”

  “I teach many charity students who need jobs. I’ve found that by having the agency, I can better help them find a place.”

  Penelope looked again at the long contract. “But do you encourage people to take jobs like this?”

  Mrs. Albright laughed. “Actually, no. I sent that client to another agency, one that employs the very desperate. The contracts I accept here are much shorter and less demanding. But I wanted you to see the sort of thing that servants are likely to encounter.”

  “Did you ever see the young man again, Mrs. Albright?”

  “I did. In fact, my agency supplies servants to his house.”

  “But nothing more?”

  “Nothing more. We are not the same people we were when we were young. But now, let’s talk about what we can do about your situation, Miss Chapman,” Mrs. Albright said briskly. “If you have a solution for me, I should be glad to hear it,” Penelope said gratefully.

  “I do not think that you would make a good house servant. You are far too pert. Nor do I believe that you would do well as a governess. But I need someone who can teach my students to read well and to engage in the niceties of conversation. You would, however, have to curtail some of your more extravagant ideas, Miss Chapman. As you can see, the young ladies in my care will go into very constrained circumstances. We need to teach them how to navigate these waters safely.”

  “I think I could,” Penelope said slowly. “I believe I should prefer it to being married to Lord Steelfrost.”

  “To whom?” Mrs. Albright started up from her chair, then sat back down, hands gripping the edge of the table. “Who did you say?” Oh, no. He is not pitting himself against Benjamin again!

  “Lord Steelfrost. He dresses like a fine gentleman, and he seems to have plenty of money. But I cannot like him. He gives me an uncomfortable feeling when he is about.”

  “Of that I have no doubt at all! Your uncle suggested this man as a suitor?”

  “He did. I have already turned him down once, but he proposed to me again today. I think he has something he is holding over my uncle, but I am not sure what.”

  “So, Wilde Timothy is up to his tricks again. What did you tell him when he proposed?”

  “I said that he should come to dinner two days hence, and I would give him my answer then.”

  “Excellent! We shall have some time to plan. Fear not, I can find a place for you here, where I think you would be better suited to our routines than to some great house. But it might not come to that.”

  “Why is that, Mrs. Albright?”

  “Because, my dear, I know one or two things about Lord Steelfrost that he would not particularly like to have noised about. I believe we can nip whatever he has planned in the bud before it can bloom into true malfeasance.”

  Penelope clasped her hands on the edge of the table. “Mrs. Albright, if you could, I would be forever grateful!”

  Mrs. Albright’s expression softened as she looked at Penelope. “Go home, child. Make peace with your sister, and let your folk know that you are safe. I’ll have two of my girls walk with you to give you proper countenance, then they can chaperone each other on the way back.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Albright. I had no idea where to turn.”

  “Think nothing of it. You are not out of the wood yet, but I think we can turn this to our advantage.”

  As Penelope was walking back, in the company of not two, but a half-dozen chattering young ladies and one sober matron, she felt hopeful, but she still had doubts. Can Mrs. Albright untangle this mess? Is she the sword that can cut through this Gordian’s Knot? Oh, I do hope so, but what if she cannot?

  Chapter 44

  When Penelope walked into the sisters’ sitting room, Edith leaped off the sofa and flung herself into her arms. “Penny! I was so worried. I am so, so very sorry.”

  Penelope hugged her sister. “Don
’t get yourself in a taking. It will be fine. I have a plan.”

  “You are going to say yes to Steelfrost.” Edith made a statement of it.

  “I’m truly not sure about that. I have some ideas. I will give him an answer at the appointed time.”

  “Oh, Penelope, if we had just told Uncle Horace.”

  “I know, dearest sister. But he isn’t going to approve of Alfred Harrington, no matter what we say.”

  Edith rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. “But it might have given you a chance to be yourself with Lord Newhorn.”