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

by Patricia Haverton

  “Well. I’m glad you realized that,” Lady Agatha nodded at the brawny young maid who brought in the tea. “This is Brigette,” the old lady introduced the maid. “I know it isn’t customary to introduce servants, but she is as sweet a young woman as can be. I hired her through Mrs. Albright’s agency on young Freddy’s recommendation.”

  “Albright.” Benjamin paused. “Mrs. Cynthia Albright?”

  “Why, yes, I believe so. Is that right, Brigette?”

  “Yes, Mum,” the girl replied.

  “Lady Agatha, or My Lady,” the elderly lady chided. “You really must learn the proper address, child. You might one day need to be in service to someone else.”

  “Yes, Mum…Lady Agatha. I do try to remember.”

  “You have a great deal to remember,” Lady Agatha said kindly. “Now what were we talking about?”

  “Mrs. Albright recommended Brigette. And she is Cynthia Albright?”

  “Yes, Sir!” Brigette replied.

  “Lord Newhorn,” Lady Agatha corrected. “If you are uncertain of rank, you can always say, ‘m’lord’. It is nearly always proper.”

  “Yes, Lord Newhorn,” Brigette said, coloring up to the wisps of red curls that escaped her cap.

  “Thank you, Brigette,” Benjamin said kindly. “That was just the information I needed.”

  The maid blushed again, curtsied three or four times, bobbing up and down furiously, then withdrew.

  “You are helping train Mrs. Albright’s girls?”

  “Someone needs to do it. Cynthia does very well with them, but she was a shopkeeper’s daughter before she took up dancing.”

  “So how do you know Cynthia?” Benjamin asked, the familiar name slipping from his lips before he could think.

  “That’s a long story, and hardly one that is important at the moment. What is important is that you have some thinking to do. You need to decide which is more important to you: the guise under which you courted the lady or the spark between you.”

  Benjamin looked down at his teacup, childish feelings of rebellion bubbling up inside him.

  “You don’t need to decide tonight, Benny. But you need to decide soon, before that gem is snatched up by someone else. Edith is sweet and biddable, but she will always need someone to lean on. Penelope won’t lean, and she just might support you at need.”

  Benjamin set his cup down, and with it the last dregs of his rage. “I feel really confused. I’m just not sure what to do, or how I feel.”

  “What you should do,” said Lady Agatha, “Is go get some rest. I rather doubt that Miss Penelope has come to harm, no matter what her people think. She is a sensible child. Now, you go home before it is lamp lighting time, think on what we have talked about, and get some sleep. It is amazing what that will do for you.”

  “Yes, Lady Agatha,” Benjamin said meekly. “I’ll just do that. Do you need anything before I go?”

  “You can put that chair back where it belongs. Brigette is a strong lassie, and she will take care of anything else I need.”

  Benjamin returned the chair to its place, and bowed himself out. Bemused, he set off for his townhouse, scarcely realizing that he was following directions.

  Halfway there, he came to himself, then started to laugh. Lady Agatha always had a way of getting me to do what I should. Perhaps I should call on the Chapmans tonight. No, it is late. I will find out what Harrington wants in the morning, and then amble on over there and pay them a call. Surely everything will keep until then.

  Chapter 46

  “Humphrey,” said Lady Agatha, “Would you bring me my writing box please?”

  “Yes, Lady Agatha,” Humphrey, her butler, replied. He shuffled over to an ornate armoire, opened it, and pulled out a wooden lap desk. He set it over her lap, and asked, “Should I sharpen your pen nibs?”

  “Would you? Brigette is a good girl, but she doesn’t understand how to put a proper point on them.”

  Humphrey took out a pen knife, and began carefully shaping the end of a quill. “My Lady, might I be so bold as to ask a question?”

  “You may ask, Humphrey.” Lady Agatha’s eyes twinkled at him, an effect aided by the wrinkles that crinkled up when she smiled.

  “Whatever do you have in mind, Lady Agatha?”

  “Why, Humphrey? I am merely going to write a note to Miss Edith and one to Miss Penelope. Sometimes these small affairs need a trifle in the way of assistance. It would be a shame for these younglings to spend a life in misery, don’t you think?”

  “Lady Agatha, I do hope you know what you are doing.”

  “So do I, Humphrey, so do I.”

  Lady Agatha dipped her pen into the ink Humphrey held for her and began to write.

  Chapter 47

  Daylight had hardly crept over her bedroom windowsill when Penelope opened her eyes. She lay still for a moment, savoring the quiet. Her eyes felt gummy and swollen, as if she had cried herself to sleep.

  Which she had, she realized. No more picnics in the park. No riding in the reserve beyond it. No deep philosophical arguments, or foolish stories. It was all over. How could I possibly be so stupid? If we had only been honest with him in the first place, how differently things might have turned out.

  There was no help for it now. Done was done. No amount of wishing would change the past. Penelope threw back the covers and swung her feet to the floor. It was cool beneath her bare feet. She padded over to the wash basin and splashed water onto her face. Cucumber slices. I need two nice, cool cucumber slices to put on my eyes.

  Lacking the requisite vegetable, she pressed the cool cloth to her eyes, then patted them dry. If only I knew what to do now. Mrs. Albright could offer me employment enough to keep me and my sister, but no others of our household. She could be of service finding our staff work in other houses, but it would not be the same for any of them.

  Penelope continued to ruminate as she pulled an old, worn day dress out of her wardrobe, and ferreted out the barest minimum of underthings. She did not want to be bothered with anything tight or fussy today. She and Stella had talked of practical matters well into the night. Stella had pointed out that some of her dresses, such as the one purchased for her presentation at court, could be sold. The sums they would bring would do little to allay their uncle’s difficulty, but might mean the difference between security and want if they truly did have to take Mrs. Albright up on her offer. Moreover, Stella had pointed out that if the creditors took their uncle’s estate, their personal things would be sold, as well.

  “If I do the selling,” Stella had added, “I am likely to get a better price than you. For the moment you walk into a shop, the shopkeeper will see you as gentry at the very least. He will then take advantage of you. I will take James with me, and a shrewder man at a bargain I have never seen.”

  Dressed in her dowdiest gown, which was also her most comfortable as good fortune would have it, Penelope began pulling things out of the closet. The court presentation gown, and several gaudy items that she could not imagine why she had ever purchased, went into the “sell” pile. Her comfortable house dresses, and sober walking dresses went into another. Those she would keep.

  She had just started on sorting petticoats and personal items when Edith tapped at the door, then entered. “What are you doing, Penny?”

  “Practicing good economy,” Penelope said, putting as much cheer as she could muster into the words. “Stella explained to me that with her help, we could realize a great deal of pin money by selling off the gowns and fripperies that we do not quite like.”

  “What a capital idea!” Edith exclaimed. “Do you think I could do it, too?”

  “I cannot imagine why not,” Penelope replied. Best to keep her busy and engaged. That way she is less likely to fall into a distemper. “For example, I cannot imagine why I ever accepted this petticoat from the dressmaker. It is badly attached at the waist, and always hung more on one side than the other. I hope that someone will be able to make good use of it.”

>   “I do remember telling you at the time that it was not quite right,” Edith commented.

  “No one likes to hear ‘I told you so,’ sister mine,” Penelope said with mock severity, “But I do recall your having mentioned something of the sort. Well, perhaps someone who is handy with a needle will like having the fabric.”

  “There is a great deal of good linen in it.” Edith picked up the offending garment and turned it about in her hands, looking at it one way, then another. “Truly, Penny, I think we would get more for it if I simply cut it up for handkerchiefs. We could keep some, and I could embroider something pretty or stalwart on the others.”

  Penelope gaped at her sister for a moment. Edith, being practical? “That is a prime idea, Edie. The petticoat will never fit anyone correctly, but everyone needs handkerchiefs.”

  “There are my wonderful ladies,” Stella entered. She smiled at their industry. “Come have some breakfast. Mr. Ventor has outdone himself this morning. A huckster came to the backdoor selling strawberries, and the cream was just delivered moments ago. Whatever the day shall bring, it will go better on a full stomach.”

  “Will you sit with us, Stella?” Penelope asked.

  “If you will excuse me, Miss Penelope, I have a great deal to see to this morning. But I do thank you kindly for the offer. You will find your morning mail on the breakfast tray.”

  The sisters broke off their task and came to the charming repast that Stella had set out for them. In spite of her anxiety, Penelope found that she had a good appetite this morning. She did justice to the creme puffs, sweet berry sauce, scones and excellent tea.

  “We shall be fat as butterballs if we keep eating like this,” Edith remarked, as she dipped her third scone in the lake of berry sauce on her plate.

  Penelope refrained from saying the angry words that immediately rose to her lips and said instead, “Enjoy it. Clearly, Ventor is as concerned as anyone. He will be very pleased to note that we ate a great deal, but left some for the staff to pick over.”

  “I’m glad you mentioned that last. If I eat one more of these I shall be unable to move.” Edit patted the embroidered front of the wide sash at her waist.

  Her breakfast finished, Penelope wiped clean her table knife, and slid it under the seal of the letter that sat by her plate.

  Edith giggled at the sight. “Terrible manners, Penelope.”

  “Indeed,” Penelope agreed absently, skimming through the contents of the missive. “Lady Agatha wishes us to attend a dinner at her home tonight, Edith.”

  “Yes,” Edith affirmed, who, having followed Penelope’s example, was now skimming through her own invitation. “Oh, dear! If we sell or give away all our things, what shall we wear?”

  “We shan’t sell everything, silly. Just the things that we do not need or like. We shall send an acceptance around right away, of course. Lady Agatha has been more than kind to us. Think, how it should have been, if we were trying to cope with Indigo in the midst of all these tribulations?”

  “Oh, dear! That would have been dreadful. Shall I pen an acceptance for us both, Penny?”

  “No, no. Lady Agatha sent an invitation to each of us, so we should each send a note of acceptance. It will not take long if we write them straightaway. We can just pile the tea things to one side, and lay back the tablecloth so that we do not get ink on it.”

  Before long, one of the under-maids came up to take away their tea things. Shortly after that, Stella appeared with James to help sort and bundle up the things they did not need.

  “A right jobbernowl you made of me yesterday, Miss Penelope,” James said. “I went junketing over half of London looking for you, then came home to find that you’d returned safe and sound. More’n’at, in the company o’ a mess o’ Miz Albright’s ladies. It was all the talk downstairs, how you gave me the slip.”

  “I’m sorry, James. I was too upset and angry to send for an escort.” And you would not have liked what I set out to do. “Mrs. Albright made sure that I had a proper escort for the return home.”

  “That it was. All them young ladies, chatterin’ away like a gulp o’ magpies, with one old bird to lend them countenance.”

  Stella smoothly diverted the footman. “James, I think the young ladies have some errands for you, and I will need help carrying parcels. Do you think you can do it alone, or should we include Jace in our plans?”

  James surveyed the mounds of clothing. “Might need Jace. Or a pack horse. I don’t think my back is quite up to all that.”

  Before the clock in the tower down the street had struck one, the unwanted clothing items were bundled and ready to be sold. Edith had kept three petticoats pronounced unsalable on which to ply her needlework. In the end, they had decided to use the little cart that was usually taken to market for the clothing and Jace was dispatched to Lady Agatha with their acceptance notes.

  Penelope watched the cart trundle down the street from their house, with James driving and Stella sitting on the seat beside him. As she turned back to dress for the evening, her wardrobe seemed oddly bare, but she felt a sort of peace descend upon her.

  I am still no closer to a decision, but I am not sorry to see those things go. I wonder what Uncle Horace would have said? I fear he would have forbidden the sale of our things. But we got rid of nothing important. Now, if only I knew what to do! I have no desire to marry Steelfrost, yet I cannot think of any other way to discharge my uncle’s debts.

  Chapter 48

  Benjamin rose late, with an aching head. He snarled at Simmons, then apologized and finally was able to hurry downstairs in good order. He hoped he had not missed Alfred Harrington, but found that young gentleman patiently waiting on a bench in the front hall.

  “Good morning, My Lord,” Mr. Harrington said. “I apologize for meeting with you so early, but my father expects me at his desk shortly.”

  “Then let us by all means repair to the dining room where we can obtain some refreshment. Have you broken your fast?”

  “I have not. But that is not why I am here.”

  Benjamin waved a hand dismissively. “No matter. My cook sets an excellent breakfast table. If you do not help me eat it, much of it will go to waste, or be given to the street urchins at the back door.”

  “Do you really do that?”

  Benjamin raised his eyebrows. “Do what?”

  “Encourage the servants to feed the street urchins?”

  “Street urchins, beggars, casual passersby . . . it’s a good investment. I could not hire an army that would be more alert to what goes on in the neighborhood. I have little fear of a mob breaking down my door, because I will have a mob defending it.”

  “A unique perspective, Lord Newhorn. So, you are buying yourself your own private security force simply by feeding them?”

  “Now, if I claimed that, I would be giving away my secrets. Come, Mr. Harrington. Have some tea. There is bacon if you like it or ham, eggs and scones. I’m afraid there isn’t any clotted cream, for I am not fond of it.”

  “Quite all right,” said Mr. Harrington, unashamedly piling his plate full. “If you are feeding the poor at your gates, I shall consider myself one of them and take every advantage.”

  Benjamin laughed heartily at this sally, and felt a little better for it. “Eat up. I remember being your age. I was hollow all the time, I swear, and could not put on an ounce except to grow taller. My mother despaired of keeping me in trousers or coats.”

  “You are not exceptionally rotund now, My Lord,” Harrington observed. “Would I had the shoulders to so nicely fill out a coat. Who is your tailor?”

  Benjamin named an establishment on Bond Street, and Harrington nodded. “I’ve heard of them. A bit above my touch, I’m afraid. Perhaps when I am rich and famous, I will be able to afford a coat from there.”

  For a few moments the gentlemen gave the excellent breakfast their attention. At length, Mr. Harrington set his plate aside and said, “My compliments to your cook, My Lord. He does, indeed, make a
fine breakfast.”

  “Have you had enough?” Benjamin asked solicitously, privately astonished at the amount of food the young man had managed to consume.

  “I am wondrously replete,” Harrington replied, patting his sober waistcoat. “It has been a long while since I have had such a delicious breakfast.”

  “Very well, then, let us go into my office where we can speak in relative privacy.”

  They went into Benjamin’s office, a nicely appointed room with a large window. The velvet drapes were pulled back to let in the morning sunshine across the polished wooden floor. The desk was slightly to one side, where it could benefit from the sun, but the person sitting at it would not be blinded.