36 - Enlisting Help
“Just think about it, Elizabeth, the story is so dramatic. Lovers, separated by circumstances, ultimately reunited.” Catherine tried to force a tone of joyous rapture, but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Ha! More like, ‘worthless suitor gets cold feet and is forced to altar by irate father.’” Elizabeth’s green eyes flashed with delight. She was sitting at her dressing table and reached for a box of ribbons and hair ornaments. She began poking through it, searching for something.
Catherine tried to suppress the grin, but failed. “No, no, no!” She said, laughing. “That attitude just won’t do. We must immerse ourselves in the spirit of the ruse. We must believe it, act it, make it true, and then everyone else will believe it, too.” Sobering, she shot Elizabeth an imploring look. “You must help us carry this off. Although it’s true that Calliope’s future depends on the ruse, I’m even more concerned that if the scandal surfaced now, Charles could be drawn back into it.”
“And that is why you need me, you silly goose,” Elizabeth said, looking at herself in the mirror and holding a clip decorated with creamy feathers against her hair to note the effect. “You never were any good at playacting. Just look at you now.” She glanced at Catherine’s reflection in the mirror. “You’re overacting, and anyone with sense will notice. You’re terrible at keeping secrets.”
A smile flickered across her lips, but she hid it before Elizabeth noticed. “I bow to your greater authority. If anyone can get this story to take hold, it’s you. You’re queen among queens when it comes to matters such as these.” She looked at Elizabeth appraisingly in the mirror. “That piece looks really lovely. It shows up beautifully against your dark hair.”
Smiling in satisfaction, Elizabeth spun around in her seat to face her friend. “Well, you didn’t make a bad start with that story, but we must add details. Let’s see,” she looked up and to the left as she tried to manufacture a credible and circumspect version of the facts. “I know. Calliope and I met when my father was searching for a book for his collection, and I was drawn to her bold nature.”
“Bold nature?”
“Any girl who would run off to Gretna Green must be bold.”
Catherine shrugged. Bold? Perhaps she’d missed that character trait when she’d met Calliope.
“What is her father’s specialty at Oxford?”
“You can’t guess from his daughter’s name?” Catherine chided.
“Hmmm. Calliope was in Greek mythology as the muse of poetry, so which is it, Greek mythology or poetry?
“Greek mythology.”
“Oh! That really is perfect. How very convenient of him. You know...” Elizabeth paused, thinking further. “It’s quite likely that he really did know my father. Perhaps we should ask Mr. Caruthers about that before he returns to Oxford. We could include it in our story.” She smiled. “I love it when the details mesh together this way.”
“I’ll leave those details to you, dear. You’re much better at this than I am.”
“Can you keep the story straight once I give it to you?”
“Most certainly. This should be fun.” Catherine left her seat to stand behind Elizabeth, looking into the mirror for a better view of the necklace her friend had draped around her neck.
“Calliope shall stay here with me until the wedding.” Elizabeth arched her neck slightly to one side, peering at the cameo necklace. “It will help with the story I’m weaving. And since I’m miffed with you for planning to marry Huntley with such annoying haste, I’ve decided that Calliope and I will become the very best of friends.” She turned her nose up.
Catherine rolled her eyes and let out a long-enduring sigh.
§
A week later, Catherine and Elizabeth were in hiding, stealing a few quiet moments together in Lady Wilmot’s comfortable morning room. It was a far cry from Mother’s more ornate space at Kensington House, and Catherine vastly preferred the homier atmosphere.
Catherine hadn’t been able to find many quiet moments alone with Elizabeth since Calliope had moved into Lady Wilmot’s house, and the girl’s visit was beginning to wear thin. Both Catherine and Elizabeth had grown weary of the charade.
Fortunately, last night Catherine had enjoyed her first night back at Bernini’s since that fateful foggy night, and she felt much less tense today. Bernini had pushed her hard, obviously annoyed with her, but she’d performed well and had earned a reluctant grunt of approval from the man.
She’d attended with Charles. Huntley hadn’t been there. He’d been avoiding her ever since she’d kissed him in her “impetuous” way in the shed.
Impetuous.
Blast the man.
At least she had both the tournament and Calliope to distract her from her own upcoming wedding. She did her best to push the annoying man from her mind, focusing instead on the present.
Catherine and Elizabeth sat chatting on the comfortable pale-yellow sofa near the window, enjoying the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. Lady Wilmot’s morning room was beautiful, with soft-yellow patterned drapes and exquisite yellow-gold silk chairs. Calliope burst in, interrupting their conversation.
“The wedding is set for this Saturday in Oxford," Calliope announced. "Father just sent word. Thank you ever so much for helping me and dear Charlie. We’re terribly grateful.” Calliope flung herself onto the sofa, directly between Catherine and Elizabeth. “You’re both absolutely wonderful friends.” She glanced from one to the other with an adoring gaze. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you. I probably would have died!” Her head bobbed with emphasis, causing the blond curls around her face to bounce as well. Even her hair was energetic.
Catherine, taken aback by Calliope’s exuberance, suppressed a sigh. Died? Really? She recalled Elizabeth’s assumption that any girl who would run off to Gretna Green would be bold and assertive. Over the course of the past week, they discovered they’d been gravely mistaken. However, she did tend to be stubborn in her belief that Mr. Attwood loved her. Perhaps that was a form of assertiveness.
Something Calliope had said finally seeped through Catherine’s annoyance.
“Married? On Saturday? But, Calliope, that’s marvelous.” She exchanged a relieved glance with Elizabeth. She tried for a moment to convince herself that her happiness stemmed from the fact that Calliope was getting married, not because Calliope would be leaving, but couldn’t manage it, so she stopped trying.
“Yes, isn’t it? Lady Wilmot just told me the arrangements have been finalized.” An annoyed look crossed Calliope’s face. “Although I don’t understand why my father had to be so stubborn about having a solicitor draw up the papers,” she grumbled. “And in an irrevocable trust, too. My Charlie would never fritter away all of my money. He loves me. I do hope he isn’t terribly offended.”
Catherine swallowed and stared at the girl in silence. No wonder Charles had referred to her as a simpleton.
“But your mother just gave me the other good news, too,” she said, focusing her gaze on Elizabeth. “And thank you so much. I simply couldn’t believe it when she told me that you both would be my bridesmaids,” she gushed. “You’re too good to me.”
This was certainly news to Catherine. It meant that she’d be taking the train to Oxford for the weekend.
Elizabeth glanced at Catherine and then beamed at Calliope. “We’re only too pleased, Calliope. You’ll make a beautiful bride.”
§
Saturday morning, the members of the wedding party were settled in three private compartments on a train heading to Oxford. Catherine sat in the rear compartment with Elizabeth and Calliope, while Mother, Charles, and Lady Wilmot rode in the middle one. Huntley guarded Attwood in the compartment at the front of the train car, with the help of Mr. Phipps.
Catherine had her hands full trying to keep Calliope from seeing Attwood. They all wanted to make sure the wedding went smoothly, so they’d decided to keep the couple apart. It would be disastrous if the ce
remony didn’t take place because they quarreled or because Attwood wheedled Calliope into helping him escape.
Catherine escorted Calliope to locate the ladies’ water closet on the train and returned to the compartment, sliding the door closed. She sat next to Elizabeth to wait for Calliope’s return, enjoying the few moments of relative silence.
“I thought Calliope was your new best friend,” Catherine chided her friend. “Won’t you miss her?”
“Oh, stop it. I was just getting caught up in the story I was inventing. This charade has been more exhausting than I anticipated.” She leaned her head back against the seat on the train. “I don’t know how people manage to keep track of so many lies.”
“What truly confounds me is how much the reality of Attwood differs from Calliope’s opinion of him.” Catherine shook her head in consternation. “No matter what the man does, nobody can shake her belief in him. He doesn’t deserve her faith.”
Elizabeth gave her a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. She’s much more aware of his failings than she lets on. At first, I thought she ignored what was being said when people spoke badly of Attwood, but I was wrong. I think she hears everything. She may come across as empty-headed, but there is more to her than she reveals. Attwood may have more to contend with in her than he realizes.”
“It sounds as though you two have grown close during the past two weeks,” Catherine teased.
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at her. “Now you’re annoying me. Speaking of being close, what about you? Tell me more about Huntley.”
Catherine was taken off guard by the sudden change of subject. This must be Elizabeth’s way of getting even. “What do you mean?”
“He’s still an enigma to me. I’ve barely spoken to him. I know he’s handsome and has a title, but there must be something more to him, or you’d never have agreed to marry the man. Tell me what made you choose him.”
The question took Catherine by surprise. She’d kept the real reason for their hasty engagement a secret, and once they’d announced they were planning to marry, no one had bothered to ask her why. “I... well... it’s a number of things, of course. I find him trustworthy, reliable, supportive, kind...,” she stumbled to a stop. Not to mention stubborn and obsessed with propriety. But what about how he made her feel? The annoying man was also exciting, passionate, sensitive, and could make her knees buckle with desire. His kisses could make her lose all sense of time and place. A look from him from across the room could make her turn to water.
A slow smile spread across Elizabeth’s face as she watched Catherine. “So, it’s like that, is it?”
“Like what?” Catherine pressed her lips together. Elizabeth couldn’t possibly have read her mind, thank goodness.
“It’s a love match. I can see it in your face, Catherine. You can’t fool me.”
A love match? Catherine’s eyes grew wide as she met Elizabeth’s triumphant gaze. Love? Was she in love with Huntley? How ludicrous. The man didn’t even approve of her.
The door opened abruptly, startling Catherine.
Calliope slipped back into the private compartment with an annoyed look on her face. “That man, Mr. Phipps, is it? He refuses to open the compartment door and let me speak to my Charlie!” She plopped onto the seat, settling into a sulk.
“Calliope! You promised you wouldn’t try to see him,” Catherine admonished. Thinking better of it, she continued on in a more soothing tone. “We’ll be arriving shortly, and then you’ll be married. Just think of it. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together.” Exchanging a look with Elizabeth, she added, “And I believe it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. You wouldn’t want to tempt fate, would you?”
“Tempt the Fates?” Calliope repeated, clearly thinking about the white-robed incarnations of destiny from Greek mythology. The stories must have been drummed into her since childhood, with a professor for a father.
Taking her cue, Elizabeth chimed in, “Yes, I heard the same thing. You want to get your marriage off on the right foot, don’t you?” She reached across to where Calliope was sitting in the seat opposite her and patted her hand. “We’ll be there shortly. You won’t have long to wait.”
This immediately pulled Calliope out of her sulk. With unshed tears shining in her eyes, she said, “I certainly wouldn’t want to tempt the Fates. They can become quite angry. What would I do without the two of you to guide me?” She gave them a smile. “I’m so lucky to have friends like you.”
“This really is quite eye-opening,” Catherine whispered into Elizabeth’s ear as Calliope busied herself looking for a handkerchief in her reticule. “And here I thought you were the queen of drama. I believe you just lost your crown.” The corners of her eyes crinkled as she tried to contain her laughter.
“Shush!” scolded Elizabeth, grinning in reply.
37 - Spying on Huntley
The damp, late-winter London morning was slowly beginning to warm up, but not quickly enough for Stansbury. The cold made its way deep into his bones, causing his left knee to ache. He ignored it as best he could and focused his energies on making some sense of this new development.
Huntley’s unexpected excursion was proving to be quite interesting. Stansbury had been watching him for the past couple of weeks and had witnessed him walking his dogs and visiting Kensington House on occasion. Probably ingratiating himself with Catherine’s family. Huntley had no right to be there. The damned upstart.
Initially, Stansbury had re-engaged the men he’d hired to kidnap Huntley and search his town house. They owed him for bungling that job, so he tasked them with following the man. Unfortunately, they’d become annoyingly insistent in their demands for money. Why couldn’t they see the bigger picture? He’d be able to pay them handsomely once he was married to the Kensington girl, but they were too impatient. They insisted upon being paid immediately, the shortsighted fools. When he’d ultimately had to let them go, he’d taken over the job of following Huntley. It was cold, tiring work, spending so much time chasing Huntley about town. And up until now, he’d discovered nothing he could use.
But today, when Huntley left his house early in the morning, he’d been accompanied by two other gentlemen Stansbury didn’t recognize. One was a burly-looking sort. Not the type of man you’d want to cross. Stansbury watched as the burly fellow shoved the third man into a waiting carriage.
The third man looked to be about the same age as Huntley. And although they clearly weren’t friends, the man didn’t appear to want to leave Huntley’s town house and enter the carriage. This was all rather odd, and anything that was odd was interesting.
Stansbury followed them, and was even more surprised when they arrived at the train station. There, they were joined by the Kensington family, the Wilmot family, and another girl whom Stansbury didn’t recognize. Lord Spencer joined Huntley’s party and the men stood a small distance away from the rest of the group. It appeared that although everyone knew the unhappy man, nobody liked him. It was as though they were all guarding him.
Curious.
When Lord Spencer’s servant set off toward the ticket window, Stansbury followed him and eavesdropped to learn their destination. He rushed through purchasing a ticket and scurried on board the train for Oxford moments before it pulled away from the station.
He checked his money, making sure he would have enough for a return trip.
Blast that Huntley.
There was barely enough to buy a meat pie for dinner if he wanted to have enough coin to purchase a return ticket. His stomach rumbled.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the side of the train, resting in the warmth of the passenger car. He stretched out his left leg, easing the ache in his knee and contemplating Huntley.
All Stansbury’s problems had become much worse in the past few months. It was as though Huntley was bent upon bringing him down. Had he found out Stansbury’s involvement in stealing his shipping contacts? It had be
en an inspired plan to undercut Huntley’s deals before he had a chance to finalize them. But Huntley had found out. Did his vengeance know no bounds? The man was the root cause of his financial ruin. If he hadn’t tricked Stansbury into those bad deals, everything would be different. Huntley was a vengeful man. And it wasn’t as though Stansbury had done any real harm.
The train rousted Stansbury from his reverie when it stopped with a jolt at the platform in Oxford. Through the window, he could see Huntley’s party disembark from the train, so he rushed out to the platform, hiding behind other passengers who were alighting as well.
An older man met them at the train station and embraced the girl. Perhaps he was her father. He was about the right age, and there was a family resemblance.
The group climbed into some waiting carriages and departed the station quickly. Stansbury hailed a hansom cab so he could follow.
There goes more of my money. No meat pie. Blast that Huntley.
Fortunately, the group didn’t travel far and stopped at a little church. As they exited the carriages, Stansbury was able to remain undetected by having the driver pull around the corner from the church and then paying him there. The lack of a tip earned him an annoyed look, which he studiously ignored. What did he care? He’d never see the man again.
Stansbury slipped into a rear door of the church, hoping to overhear something of interest. It quickly became obvious that a wedding was about to take place.
The ceremony started quickly enough. There were few guests, but he could still slip unseen into the rear of the church. The wedding party appeared, and the ceremony began.
Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 23