“I will be fine.” As far as Mary was concerned, the matter was settled, but hours later she found Kitty had other ideas. With little to do in the Wickhams’ household, Kitty had lounged about and mulled over the puzzle. Even as one thunderstorm dwindled and left London to soak in its puddles in silence, and then another storm stirred into life afterward, Kitty’s brow furrowed in thought. By the time the two ladies were ready to go to the assembly rooms, a wry smile teased Kitty’s lips.
Oh, dear. Mary viewed the sight with a shiver of annoyance. Kitty had played the role of a serious matron for too long, apparently; she positively jumped at the chance for a little scheming.
“Be careful, Kitty,” Lieutenant Stubbs said as they left him, as if Mr Cole might torch the assembly rooms with her in them, or drag her to pistols at dawn.
“Do not worry!” Kitty’s smile enveloped the man as she touched his arm in reassurance, and then she hurried after Mary, her figure backlit by a flash of lightning. She and Mary had to dart into the carriage as it rolled up, clasping their bonnets to their heads as rain gushed over them. When the carriage door slammed shut, the roar of the rain faded to a hiss, but the musty smell of stirred dust and electricity in the air remained.
“I think it will all be great fun, outmanoeuvring Lydia,” Kitty said, “but do we really need to go in a downpour? The assembly rooms will be half empty, no matter what the ladies promised.”
Mary felt her heart leap at the sudden crack of thunder, but for once, the sensation felt giddy and pleasurable. “So much the better. I will have more of a chance to beguile Mr Cole.”
“Beguile!” Though the velvet clouds outside dimmed the daylight, Kitty’s expression was clear enough: amusement crinkled her eyes and nose. “I have never heard you talk like that before, Mary. You used to give sermons about how demure ladies ought to be.”
Mary cringed at the thought. Not that she did not still agree ladies should be demure—at least, a little demure here and there—but she did not like thinking of how stuffy and knowing she had tried to appear, year after year. And really I knew nothing at all. “I used to talk like that, Kitty, but I have grown a little since then.”
“I would say you got younger, not more grown up.” Kitty chuckled. Mary stared out the window, smelling the stale air of the carriage mix with the clean scent of the rain outside. The gush of pleasure welling up within felt strange to her, but welcome. “So, what exactly are you going to do at the assembly rooms?”
“I promised Mr Cole I would help him plan the expedition to Moseley Gorge.” The wheels of the carriage sprayed water in every direction as it rolled forward, and Mary watched the splashes with a glee unusual to her. The drops are like diamonds. No, better, they are twinkling stars, and we are riding through the heavens. She suppressed a giggle.
“So you and he will sit there and plan a party—”
“An expedition, not a party. We are all to go collect geological samples and take refreshment near a landslide.”
“A party with rocks, then.” Kitty was unimpressed. “And I am to sit there beside you and watch you plan? It sounds dull for all three of us.”
“You are right, Kitty, it would be dull for all three of us. That is why you should help the other ladies supervise repairs while I help Mr Cole.”
Kitty’s mouth drew down in disappointment, although she knew her role was to disappear. “There must be more I can do. I was thinking I could help you allure him.” She slouched back in her seat, thinking, and Mary tried to think faster, to give Kitty something to do before her boredom prodded her to change the plan.
“Perhaps you can distract Mrs Appleton.”
Kitty looked up, curious.
“Most of the ladies will not be there today, because of the rain, and the few who will, likely will be too busy to notice I am alone with Mr Cole.” Mary smoothed her pelisse, scattering raindrops that had lain atop it like beads adorning a gown. “But Mrs Appleton will interfere.”
“Mrs Appleton?” Kitty could not hide her disbelief.
“She likes to take charge of me.”
“You are mad! Mrs Appleton could not say boo to a goose, not even if it were sitting on her head and honking. I have never heard her speak more than a few words to anyone.”
“Then she must think me less than a goose, because she certainly orders me about.” Mary’s eyes narrowed. “Probably she is too scared of you, and most people, to turn dictatorial. But with me, she is almost…a despot.”
Kitty wore a bemused smile. “So Mrs Appleton has a taste for power, does she? Interesting.” Her hand flexed on her reticule. “I suppose I can keep her crushed underfoot for the evening, if it will serve any purpose. She is no despot to me.” Mary’s quick agreement mollified her further. “But why is this man so fixated on Lydia? She cannot share any real interests with him.” She gave Mary a narrow look. “Do you?”
“Lydia may not be as interested in geology as I am, but her beauty and charm distract him. I distract him too, he says.”
Kitty tapped her lips with her fingers in thoughtfulness. “What does he need distracting from?”
“He has—family difficulties.” She did not feel comfortable revealing Mr Cole’s confidences, but she was not sure if that was because they truly were a secret, or if she simply wanted to keep more of him to herself.
Kitty puffed a breath, as if dismissing the subject. “Probably his parents want him to marry, and he does not wish it.”
Mary turned back to the window in irritation, trying to catch more gleams of splashing raindrops. “Why would you say that?”
“Because he was chasing a married woman. No man who wants to wed does such a thing. It is a way to keep suitable young ladies at bay.” The increasing patter of rain on the carriage roof muted her words, but somehow they stood out like rolling thunder to Mary.
“That is ridiculous!” For some reason, the idea of Mr Cole marrying disturbed Mary, even if only a hypothesis.
“You think he is seeking a partner, then? Miss Poppit is quite a lady. I daresay any family would be pleased to welcome her as his wife.” Kitty’s statements felt more and more like prodding, and Mary shifted in her seat. “I suppose your theory is that he has a tendre for her, or someone like her, and he is putting everyone off the scent by chasing Lydia.”
“He is not doing anything of the kind.” Mary could imagine Mr Cole settling down on his father’s estate, marrying some decorous young woman of his town for her money or rank, and living in a kind of dull contentment. The image was uncomfortable, but it was nothing to the idea of Mr Cole loving such a person. I can understand marrying for tranquillity at home, for rank, for wealth. But if he truly loved someone—if he teased her, and kissed her, and worshipped the ground she walked on…The thought was intolerable. No, he must stay in London, and we shall see each other again and again. I do not wish to lose him. The stream of water rippling down the London streets still caught flashes of lamplight and glinted, but Mary could not find the joy in it anymore. I was so happy a moment ago, and then Kitty had to be cross. She had not been cross, though, not exactly. She had simply said Mr Cole might marry someone else.
A crushing feeling squeezed Mary’s heart, and she felt her head spin. Why should such things so disturb her? Why should she feel so light-hearted knowing she was going to see Mr Cole, and then so upset at the thought of his marriage? It is so obvious. How have I fooled myself for so long? It was too cruel a fate, to fall in love with the man who lived to flirt with her sister.
The carriage heaved to at the doors of Maddox’s, and Mary and Kitty dipped into the water and hurried inside, leaving the carriage to launch itself back down the swirling puddles and currents. Mary left her sister as soon as she could, unwilling to see how much Kitty had guessed from their conversation. Does she suspect that I am the one with a tendre? Did she mean to warn me? In her rush to get away from her, Mary stumbled over a wet dog lying at the door of the office where she worked with Mr Cole.
“I am sorry,
Hercules.” She reached down to pat the dog, who leaped up and licked her hand with canine forgiveness. Mr Cole sat back in his chair, his legs stretching out in a casual pose. He did not even rise to greet her with a bow.
He does not act like a suitor, but like a friend. She told herself she had no reason to expect otherwise, but some secret part of herself was disappointed.
“This rain is perfect for our purposes,” Mr Cole said, beckoning her to a chair. “If we plan the expedition for later this week, the disjoining in the land will be quite fresh.”
“We cannot do it as quickly as all that,” Mary said. She buckled down to work, explaining the arrangements she had planned for refreshments, carriages, servants, and an itinerary.
Mr Cole listened with an impressed air. “And here I thought I had been quite practical, gathering enough tools for the ladies to use in scraping samples.” He leaned forward, tucking his legs under his chair. “Do you really think this will please Lady Crestwood?”
“I am sure. It will be exciting for the ladies, and it will make them feel important. You cannot do better.” A crack of thunder made her start, and she pressed a trembling hand to her head. I hope something will please Lady Crestwood, for she has some painful revelations to come.
“What is it? Are you ill? Is it the storm?” Mr Cole drew his anxious face to hers.
“I am not ill. I just had some unpleasant surprises recently.” When he gave her a sympathetic look, her heart melted. “Among other things, Hannah has been sent to a London charity.”
“I am sorry. I know she did not want that.”
“I still hope to think of something, but it appears she will be stuck being pointed at by all her former friends.” Mary sighed. “And Mr Wickham and Lydia had a disagreement.”
“Not about me this time.”
The certainty in his voice irritated Mary. “How do you know that?”
“Because I have been so obedient to your will.” The mocking lilt to his tone infuriated her further, but he took no notice. “You wished me to distance myself from her, and I have.”
“You came to her house and asked for her!”
“But I knew she would not be there. I made sure.”
“And then you argued with Lieutenant Stubbs, as if you were determined—”
“Well, I was not going to let that sneering pup think he could order me about. Of course I had no real intention of pursuing his sis—Mrs Wickham.” He flushed, the redness mottling his skin. “And I stayed away from her all during Lady Crestwood’s rout. And since you and she have been going to Almack’s on Wednesdays, I have not seen you at lectures. Not even my own.” The genuine disappointment in his face shamed Mary.
“I wanted to come. But after Mr Wickham and Lydia argued—I dared not do anything to disrupt things further.” She had sacrificed something Mr Cole valued to keep the peace, and now she felt the wrongness of it. “How was it?” she asked in a tentative voice.
He shook his head with chagrin. “It actually went very well. No one fell asleep this time. And several people asked questions—foolish ones, for the most part, but at least it showed they were interested.” The lines around his eyes softened. “I suppose I must admit some of your advice was good.”
“I am glad.” She cast her gaze down. “I have been thinking…about some of your advice, as well.”
“My advice?” His eyebrows lifted. “I do not remember giving any.”
Her voice faltered. “It was about needing peace too much. Trying to control people, just so that I could feel safe. I think you meant that I should let people go their own way a little more, even if it means they argue with one another. Or with me.” Her fingers pressed against her palms, squeezing as she gained confidence. “I cannot say I agree with you completely, of course. I have seen how destructive conflict is in a family.”
Without intending it, Mary found herself spilling out the story of Harry Lucas’s estrangement, admitting it was her revelation of his secret to his father that began the feud. “It may be true that people like you and Sir Reginald can argue openly and still be friends because you both share underlying values, like scientific truth. But Harry and Sir William talking just hurt everyone. If I had kept silent, as I usually did, Harry would still be a part of their family.”
Mr Cole’s legs shifted, pushing his chair back. “Perhaps. If he were, he would likely be miserable.”
“Miserable! As one of the Lucases!”
Mr Cole’s expression turned wry. “As the scamp in a family, I can testify to the need to break free and pursue one’s own way. Harry is probably happier as he is, strange as it might seem to you.” He gave a bark of a laugh. “If it got him away from fellows like that sullen brother-in-law of yours, I can understand his satisfaction very well.”
Mary folded her hands, trying to keep them from showing her distress. “Lieutenant Stubbs may be a nuisance, but he is one of us.” Watching Mr Cole’s knowing look, something shifted in Mary, and she found a giggle bubbling up to the surface. “Well, I always did prefer the Lucas boys. I would much rather Lieutenant Stubbs had feuded with us all.”
“It would have provided a great relief to many,” he said in a dry tone, and she giggled again. Hercules’s tail wagged, sensing the happiness of his friends, and he nuzzled Mary’s hand on her lap. When she petted the hound, Mr Cole surveyed her with amusement. “I rather think you were terrified of him at one time.”
“I was a little nervous. But he has grown on me.” She gave the dog one last pat, and then turned back to the stack of notes for the expedition. “Shall we get back to work? We do not have that much time to secure your triumph in London.” This time, the teasing note in her voice did not trouble her.
“Ah, yes, my triumph.” He drew closer to her, pulling his chair next to hers. Though his thigh was not touching hers, it was near enough that she could feel the heat from his body. “I ought to repay you somehow, if this works.”
“Staying away from Lydia is payment enough.”
Her response made him frown, though she did not know why. He bent over the pages of notes, running a finger down the list, but his mind did not seem to be on the task. “I suppose if I have rousing success with the Informed Ladies, my mother will not dare to ask me to visit for months and months.”
“And you can play the scamp a while longer.”
Again, her answer seemed to dissatisfy him, though he only furrowed his brow and avoided her eyes. He bent yet closer to the pages, and incidentally, nearer Mary’s head. “It is a pity I am not brave enough to return home. You might encourage me, Miss Bennet.”
“Encourage you?” She was surprised enough to lift her head and gaze straight into his dark brown eyes. “But it is not my place to determine for you. It is true that I think you ought to go back and be the acting squire, but—”
He made a vexed sound. “Miss Bennet, you have an uncanny way of disarming every attempt I make to—” He blew his breath out and reached out a hand to stroke the line of her chin, settling his palm against the side of her face and cupping it.
Mary’s eyes widened, and her breath caught as she stared into his eyes. He is going to kiss me. The thought heated her cheeks, and she could feel her warmth melding with the warmth of the hand that cupped her face. But what does it mean? He cannot love me. He is not a real suitor. It is only flirting.
Flirting, like Lydia. She hoped her sister had never kissed him, but there was no telling. Her aspiration to be more like Lydia now felt like a travesty, if it meant the man she had grown fond of only thought of her as a playmate, a foolish way to pass time. And someone might come in at any moment. Mrs Appleton even! Terror shuddered through her, and she fumbled to her feet, making the wooden chair screech against the floor. “I…um…should check on Kitty.”
Mr Cole’s eyelids had lowered too much for her to read his expression. “If you wish.”
“I will take care of my part of things for the expedition, you may be sure,” Mary said in a hurry, her words tumbling ove
r one another in a dizzy fashion that mirrored the slow swoop in her mind. “If I do not see you before then, do not worry. I will meet you at Maddox’s before we all travel to Moseley Gorge.”
“No doubt.” His tone gave away nothing.
Mary backed out of the room, dipping an awkward curtsey and then hastening down the hallway. Kitty was in the main hall, watching Mrs Appleton hoist a fabric against the window and raking a disdainful glance over the draping folds.
“This is what they chose for the curtains? They may not be tattered, but this colour is better fit for a pall.” Kitty’s sharp tongue might have intended to reproach the chooser of the fabric, but from Mrs Appleton’s weary expression, she had borne many reproaches from her herself. “Mary, have you seen this? I thought this was supposed to be a house of mirth, not a house of mourning. Or must scientific ladies prove their wisdom with sombre decor?”
“Let us go home, Kitty.” The note of authority in Mary’s voice surprised them both, and after a moment, Kitty nodded.
“Just as you please.” Kitty left Mrs Appleton sagging against the wall, whether from relief or exhaustion from lifting draperies, Mary could not tell. She almost pitied the woman, pressed back to her position of downtrodden insignificance.
But there are worse things. Things like struggling to attract while competing with her sister. Things like enduring the lieutenant’s pouts and Mr Wickham’s agitation. Things like failing to rescue a fallen maid or failing to prevent a friend’s sinking into larceny.
Things like playing the fool to ward a gentleman away from her family, and then realising she had fallen head over heels in love with him.
Casting one glance back at Mrs Appleton, who wiped the sweat from her brow with a limp handkerchief and looked murderously at Kitty’s back, Mary pressed her lips together. You do not know how easy you have it.
A Learned Romance Page 21