Testing Miss Toogood

by Stella Cameron

  “I was hoping to have a little time with the papers myself,” Nathan said.

  Dominic tossed the Post across the table.

  Nathan unfolded it but Fleur noted how he glanced around the room, even turned sharply to check the sideboard. Surely he couldn’t be looking for the Voice. She pressed her lips together rather than giggle at the thought.

  The soft swish of Hattie’s skirts preceded her. She came into the room looking at envelopes in her hands but stopped the instant she discovered she wasn’t alone there. Her hair had been brushed and coiled in a simple chignon at the back of her head and she looked as beautiful as ever.

  “I came for my paper,” she said, her gray eyes round. “Why are you all eating breakfast at such an hour?”

  “Don’t ask,” Fleur said. “It’s so boring to hear the stories all over again. Each of us came looking for a paper to read. Except Dominic who came for breakfast, too. Enough breakfast for a dozen or so, actually.” She would never, ever again give in to her impulsive urges and venture forth like this.

  “In other words,” Hattie said, “we all want to see if the fiasco in Hyde Park got into the paper.”

  “Not at all,” Dominic said at once.

  “I should say not,” Nathan added. “It’s the shipping news I want.”

  “Where’s the Voice?” Hattie asked. “We’ll soon see.”

  “That’s what I came for really,” Fleur said in a burst of honesty. “I do hope there isn’t anything. It’ll be so embarrassing if there is.”

  “Why?” Dominic asked. “Because I stopped you from being killed on Rotten Row?”

  Hattie sighed. “I’ll ring for McGee. He’ll know where the paper is.”

  “I saw it when I came in,” Dominic said—hastily, Fleur thought. “It’s got to be here somewhere. Check around, Nathan.”

  “I have.” Nathan took hold of Dominic’s copy of the Times from the top and pulled it away. With it came an open copy of the London Ladies’ Voice which, being a smaller publication, slipped and fell onto the table.

  “Dominic,” the rest of them cried.

  He swiveled sideways in his chair and crossed his legs. “I was merely trying to save the rest of you from becoming overwrought.”

  “Liar,” Nathan muttered.

  Hattie plucked up the Voice and carried it with her to the sideboard.

  Nathan sprang from his seat at once and said, “Do sit down, Hattie. I’ll pour you some coffee. What would you like to eat?”

  “Nothing,” she said promptly. “Just the coffee.” She sat down once more, closed the paper and clutched her throat. “On the front page,” she said, her voice fading.

  “What does it say?” Fleur asked. “Is it so terrible?”

  “Let me read it for everyone,” Dominic said, reaching. “No need to bother with the details. I’ll just hit the high points.”

  Hattie whipped the newspaper out of his reach. “The low points, you mean,” she said. “This particular headline reads ARE THEY STILL VIRGINS?”

  “Gad,” Nathan exclaimed, setting down Hattie’s coffee. “Someone’s leaked it.”

  “We don’t need to go into this now,” Dominic insisted.

  “But we do,” Hattie told her brother-in-law, never taking her eyes from the page. “It’s essential that anyone in potential danger be informed of all this. Young girls aren’t safe.”

  “Perhaps The Cat’s victims really aren’t virgins anymore,” Nathan said. “After all, a man will be a man, and—”

  “Shut up,” Dominic said. “Use your head, man.”

  Hattie ignored them and continued: “‘A communication was secretly delivered to your humble correspondent and after much deliberation I feel it my duty to share the contents with my faithful readers. Since the missive was placed on my desk in my absence, I have no idea who penned this information or if it is reliable. I shall leave you to make up your own minds.’”

  Dominic clasped his hands behind his neck. “In other words, Amanda Mercury is happy to have everyone in London believe the young ladies in question have been violated.” He glanced at his brother and they exchanged nods. Fleur thought they looked quite pleased with themselves but couldn’t imagine why.

  “This is the letter she talks about,” Hattie said and read on: “‘It is time to give credit to those whose families have generously contributed to my favorite cause. Me. By their generous donations, these families have shown the esteem in which they hold their daughters’ virginity. This is an example of devotion we would all do well to emulate and I will continue to make sure that many of those who are eligible will have an opportunity to do so.’”

  “Good grief,” Nathan said.

  Dominic’s comment was “Slimy barbarian.”

  “This is dreadful,” Hattie said. “Monstrous. Mercury goes on, supposedly still quoting from the secret missive. “‘Lady Sylvia Smythe, Miss Augusta Arbuthnot, Miss Constance Fitzgerald, Miss Olivia Prentergast and Lady Wilhelmina Soams have all been returned home safely and in perfect order. Bravo, ladies. I did encounter one family who doubted my seriousness and came close to receiving damaged goods on their doorstep. This tried my patience. In future, if my sincerity is questioned, no goods at all shall be returned.’”

  Fleur said, “I’m so sorry the names have been printed. He means he will murder anyone for whom he doesn’t get money, you know.”

  Hattie kept her eyes lowered but she sensed that her two brothers-in-law were already scheming. No great feat on her part since she knew they were. If only John were here to help with this disaster, and also to make sure his brothers didn’t put themselves too deeply in danger.

  She glanced at Fleur and found her watching Dominic. A fine conundrum they were all in. Fleur besotted with Dominic. And possibly Dominic besotted with Fleur, only he wasn’t ready for marriage and the girl needed a husband now. Then there was Nathan. Who knew exactly what he thought of Fleur? He certainly paid her enough attention and Hattie knew the Dowager worried that her sons would become enemies over one woman.

  She remembered the letters she’d found in the hall. “Three of these are for you, Fleur. Snowdrop tells me your family write a good many letters. How nice.”

  “Thank you,” Fleur said, taking them almost greedily. “Sodbury Martyr. From Letitia, Rosemary and from my mother. I do love to hear from them.”

  So why, Hattie wondered, did Fleur frown over the envelopes and swallow frequently?

  “LORD DOMINIC ELLIOT IN ROTTEN ROW ALTERCATION,” Nathan read, having deftly removed the paper from in front of Hattie.

  “I haven’t finished with that,” she told him. “I’ll take it upstairs now but you may have it later.”

  “Please, Hattie,” Fleur begged. “May I just read that article before you take it?”

  “You?” Dominic said, actually grinning. “I thought the headline contained my name.” Like most males, the rattle enjoyed the idea of getting his name in the papers for some supposedly daring act.

  Hattie couldn’t bring herself to leave Fleur overwrought from wondering if she had been mentioned in the most read ladies’ paper in London. “Very well.” Hattie sighed and opened the paper again. “There is a subheading. FRIGHTFUL FUROR IN HYDE PARK—WHAT MIGHT LOVE HAVE TO DO WITH IT?”

  Dominic smacked his cup into its saucer and said, “Good God!”

  “He is good,” Hattie said. “And I doubt He’s much interested in your petty squabbles.”

  Laughter erupted from Nathan who had the sense to slide his chair far enough back to take him out of Dominic’s easy reach.

  “‘Late yesterday afternoon, on Rotten Row, eyewitnesses were shocked to see the usually remote Lord Dominic Elliot in a war of words with Mr. Fritz Mergatroyd. Although many insist that Lord Dominic called Mr. Mergatroyd out, the latter was unable to retrieve the glove due to a fainting spell and the said glove could not be found following the disturbance.’”

  “Did you call him out, Dominic?” Hattie asked. “Very foolish thing to do
if you did.”

  “The coward only pretended to pass out,” Dominic said but Hattie noted a rare flash of pink over his cheekbones.

  “Dominic rescued me,” Fleur said and her face turned red, probably from rushing to Dominic’s defense. “If he had not come along—and if Albert Parker hadn’t been there to help out—I should undoubtedly be dead.”

  “You might be dead,” Nathan said, his tone smug. “I wonder what happened to the glove.”

  “I couldn’t leave it there, could I?” Fleur said, breathing heavily. “Dominic might have got into trouble for it.”

  Hattie saw Dominic draw in a sharp breath and make a fist on his thigh. She read on: “‘One Miss Fleur Toogood is in London for the Season as the guest of the Dowager Marchioness of Granville. Yesterday’s contretemps happened while Miss Toogood was out riding with Mr. Mergatroyd. Her horse bolted and a nasty mishap seemed inevitable until Lord Dominic swept the young lady into his arms and placed her before him on his horse.’”

  “How romantic,” Nathan murmured.

  Dominic started to rise but Hattie caught his eye and he subsided.

  She thought the story romantic, too, but Nathan made the comment to bait his brother.

  With her elbows on the table, Fleur hid her face in her open hands.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Hattie said. “‘Lord Dominic has assumed the duty of squiring Miss Toogood around London during the Season. She is already a sparkling success and has suitors vying for her attention (one gentleman’s parents even threw a party for the purpose of helping their son court the young lady?) and all under the watchful eye of Lord Dominic and his sister-in-law, the current Marchioness of Granville.

  “‘From reports of Lord Dominic’s remarks at Hyde Park, may we take it that defending Miss Toogood’s honor until she meets the man she will love and marry is of the utmost importance to him? Or could there be something quite different on Lord Dominic’s mind?’”

  After a short silence Nathan said, “They’re suggesting you want her for yourself, y’know.”

  Dominic got up and headed for the door, but he stopped and turned back to Nathan. “We have work to do. If you’re not otherwise engaged, I’ll find you after I finish going over things with Lawrence.”

  Hattie could hardly wait to be alone with Fleur and to comfort her.

  “See here,” Dominic said. He shocked Hattie by sliding into a chair beside Fleur and resting a hand on her shoulder. “This town thrives on the latest bit of gossip, but only until the next piece of scandal broth comes along.”

  “You’re kind,” Fleur said without lifting her face. “But I am a nuisance here. It will be best for me to leave as soon as a coach can take me.”

  Dominic guided Fleur’s head against his chest and patted her back. He smiled at Hattie but ignored Nathan. “No such thing, Fleur Toogood. Whether you know it or not, you’ve arrived. Your name will be on every Society tongue in London. Nathan and I shall be turning away the hopefuls in droves, am I right, brother?”

  Nathan crossed his arms and gave Dominic a speculative stare. “Almost always,” he said.

  22

  Since the arrival of their first letter, Fleur’s family tried to make sure she received one each day. Back in her room, bundled in her bed with a candle burning brightly on the table beside her, she opened all three envelopes and compared the dates.

  The same.

  There could not be a disaster or Papa would have written.

  Fleur slapped a hand over her heart; unless there was something wrong with Papa. Letitia was the most direct, she would read her letter first.

  Dearest Fleur:

  I promised myself I would not trouble you with my problems. How can I keep that promise when you have always known my very heart and I, yours?

  Something dreadful has occurred and I am frightened.

  First, how are you, dear sister? I know you did not want to make this trip to London for the Season but my greatest wish is that by now you have started to have some fun. Keep your mind and heart open and a gentleman who is exactly right for you will come along. I’m just sure you are a huge success.

  “Come on, come on,” Fleur murmured. It was Letitia’s way to start out by writing what was really on her mind, only to interrupt herself with enquiries about the health of others before returning to her topic.

  Fleur, sometimes I find myself wishing you were here, but there is nothing you could do. This is for Christopher and me to deal with. Or rather, according to him, entirely Christopher’s concern.

  Papa is angry. And this alone feels so unusual I am beside myself, but I must remember that he loves Mama a great deal and I think he cannot bear to have her slighted—especially when she turned her back on her own fine family to be with him.

  “She would do it again,” Fleur said while tears overflowed down her cheeks. She’d been right earlier when she had said she should return home. They needed her there.

  This is how it is. As you know, Squire Pool has high aspirations in life. To be fair, Mrs. Pool is an unaffected lady who has always been most kind to me. In fact, she has treated me like a daughter and said she looks forward to my becoming a member of the family.

  The lump in Fleur’s throat grew huge. Apparently Letitia and Christopher had pledged to each other and were engaged, but she could see where this story was going. Squire Pool, a big, florid and overly hearty man, made her nervous. But if he hurt her sister, he would learn the kind of spirit wrapped inside “that opinionated little one with the garish hair,” as he had called her on more than one occasion.

  I waited to tell you this—even though I’ve known it. Perhaps that was wrong but I didn’t want to spoil your fairy-tale journey and I hoped the storm would pass. Apparently the marriage of his only son to the daughter of an impoverished vicar is not what the Squire has in mind and he is doing everything in his power to break off Christopher’s engagement to me.

  Fleur, Christopher is making plans for us to go away, perhaps to India, where he would offer his services as a cartographer to our military people there. But then, he also talks about South America.

  I cannot speak of this to anyone but you. The Squire doesn’t know of Christopher’s enquiries. To be honest, I don’t want to go to those faraway places but if that’s what I must do to be with my beloved, then I shall go.

  The Squire says I’m not good enough for Christopher and that he should marry a lady. That gentleman has gone so far as to hold “evenings” at the manor and invite whatever important people he can find. I, of course, am not invited. Each time Christopher has refused to be at the manor at all. Instead he sleeps in our barn all night and if Papa finds out, and discovers that I know about it, he will be furious.

  Dearest Fleur, please send what advice you can.

  Your loving sister,

  Letitia

  India? South America? Letitia’s fair skin and delicate constitution would not fare well in such places. Fleur remained calm and thought hard. Christopher’s skills as a cartographer were well thought of. She understood his wanting to escape his father, but if he secured a good job elsewhere in England, Squire Pool wouldn’t find it easy to interfere with that. He could, however, make the lives of a young married couple miserable by cutting Christopher off from any support.

  The squire wanted his son to marry into an influential family. Fleur screwed up her eyes and bared her teeth in a mock growl. Squire Pool should kiss the ground at the thought of Christopher marrying someone so wonderful as Letitia, and at the chance to count their father and mother as relations.

  Rosemary’s letter should come next and Mama’s last. Rosemary made Fleur laugh with her girlish talk of meeting the man of her dreams and how she could scarcely wait. Mama, the Toogood voice of reason, was likely to help Fleur feel more calm.

  After tapping the door Snowdrop came in, a surprising vision in a peach-colored wrapper edged with yards of expensive lace and with her black hair gleaming and hanging loose to her knees.

>   “Good morning, miss,” she said softly. “Lord Dominic told me you have had a disturbed night and asked me to bring you some—”

  “Hot chocolate for its restorative powers.”

  Snowdrop giggled and Fleur couldn’t hold back from giggling with her.

  “That’s exactly what he said,” Snowdrop said. She raised her chin. “I’ve seen the London Ladies’ Voice and the mention of my Albert. He and Lord Dominic must have cut ever such dashing figures.”

  “They did,” Fleur conceded, anxious to resume reading her letters from home.

  “Let me plump up your pillows,” Snowdrop said. She placed the tray she carried beside the bed and straightened Fleur’s covers. Then she made a face and whipped off the nightcap. She took a comb from the dressing table, scrambled to kneel on the bed and smoothed out Fleur’s hair as best she could. “There,” she said, winding some locks around her fingers, and leaving shining red ringlets behind.

  “Thank you,” Fleur said.

  “Now, the chocolate with the restorative properties. And toast with honey on it. You are to be coddled today. Lord Dominic’s words, not mine.”

  If she were to marry a man with an impeccable pedigree—like Dominic—no doubt Squire Pool would change his mind about Letitia. Fleur rubbed her forehead hard. Like Dominic or another of the gentlemen who had shown interest. She thought of her list and trembled. What other man would answer the questions as Dominic had, even if he didn’t intend to represent his own feelings?

  “Fleur,” Snowdrop whispered, standing close beside her, “I’ll help you in any way I can. Hattie said you are going to need our support.”

  “Why did she say that?” Fleur asked, more sharply than she’d intended.

  Snowdrop turned pink. “I’m sure I don’t know, but I know she senses things other people don’t even notice, and we are here and we will not let any harm or heartbreak come to you.”

  Fleur sipped the chocolate and it did make her feel a little better.