Testing Miss Toogood

by Stella Cameron

  “Really?” Nathan said, in his most sarcastic tones. “That’s all very interesting. We were talking about you and Fleur.”

  “Not only do I intend to continue my investigative work, but I have spoken with Brother Cadwin who arranged for me to visit the Abbot at the Brown Monastery. I am considering entering the order.”

  Nathan caught Dominic’s arm. “Bloody coward,” he shouted. “Now I have all the proof I need that you love Fleur as you could never love another. And your feelings for her frighten you. You, a passionate man who has loved and lost before. Oh, not a woman you had declared for, but at least one you intended to make your wife eventually. So now you try to close your heart away inside a brown habit. Very well, try, but I shall dedicate myself to tripping you at every turn.”

  The words, the ferocious onslaught from his brother, shook Dominic. “You’re wrong about being in love before. If you mean my affection for Lady Vivian Simpson, well, that was something between people who were young and immature. I have never pined for her.”

  “Regardless,” Nathan said. “I shall not accept this vocation nonsense. Not from you, not ever.”

  Dominic couldn’t continue the argument. He no longer knew his own mind and the feeling was unfamiliar.

  “Is that our mother?” Nathan said, moving his head to look through the trees. “Yes, it is. Running this way and that and, if I were a betting man, I’d say she’s looking for us.”

  Dominic scrubbed at his face. “Why do you think she may be looking for us?”

  “The aunts,” they said together.

  26

  The Dowager Marchioness elbowed Dominic from one side, and Hattie poked him from the other.

  “Rearrange that dreadful face,” the Dowager said before checking Nathan’s expression. “And you, my boy, can do better than that. Remember how excited Chloe is to have my sisters here. And Hattie has looked forward to seeing them, as have I.”

  Fleur, caught up in the middle of the family and their remarks, leaned to see Hattie’s face and couldn’t have said that she looked particularly ecstatic.

  Catching Fleur’s eye, Hattie said, “As you saw when they arrived, they’re amazing ladies. Audacious, and they say whatever they please. The only reason I’m apprehensive today is because there is good reason to be anxious, afraid even—which will pass, of course,” she finished hurriedly.

  They had met the two ancient sisters, Miss Enid and Miss Prunella Worth, when they arrived with their ladies’ maid, Mrs. Gimblet, and now the family waited in the salon to be summoned for an audience in the ladies’ boudoir.

  McGee presented himself and Mrs. Skinner put in an all but unprecedented appearance.

  “I hope you will forgive this intrusion,” McGee said. “Mrs. Chambers suggested we make sure you approve of what Mrs. Skinner is preparing for the Misses Worth and that there is nothing you would care to add.”

  “Mrs. Gimblet did pass a bag to me on ’er way in,” Mrs. Skinner said. “A bag of roots.”

  Hattie chuckled but controlled herself quickly. “For root tea. The aunts’ gentlemen friends swear by it and believe that both the aunts and themselves owe their extraordinary vigor to the brew.”

  Mrs. Skinner hmphed and said, “It’s being prepared as ordered. I might mention that from the quantity of roots, the ladies aren’t planning to go ’ome soon.”

  Fleur observed the way the Dowager refused to make eye contact with any other family member, while they made a variety of faces at each other. In her experience, very old ladies didn’t usually have gentlemen friends with whom they shared “brews” to increase their vigor.

  “A large variety of cakes will be taken up when the ladies are ready,” Mrs. Skinner said, holding her ample figure very upright. “They said they wanted only cakes since they don’t want to spoil their dinners.”

  “I thought they would want to stay in their rooms and rest this evening,” Hattie said, and looked pained. “After we spend a little time with them, of course. But we’ll be eating anyway and I’m sure they’ll enliven the meal.”

  “I’m sure they will,” Nathan said, giving his sister-in-law a smile Fleur was certain he intended to be reassuring. The result was a lopsided effort that quickly melted away.

  “Miss Prunella Worth wishes me to tell you that the audience in their rooms will be limited to fifteen minutes, although Miss Chloe and Raven may stay as long as they like.” McGee delivered the instruction in agonized tones, probably because he felt embarrassed to be caught in the middle of such a pickle, Fleur thought. “I’m sure you know Miss Chloe and her cat are already with the ladies,” he said.

  “Yes,” Hattie said, rather stiffly.

  “Miss Prunella is also pleased with most of the dinner menu,” Mrs. Skinner said. “Particularly with the lamb cutlets which she ’opes will be tender. The green goose delights Miss Enid who said the food at Worth ’ouse in Bath depends on the humor of the cook—a Mrs. Whipple, I believe—and that she ’opes the same is not the case ’ere.”

  “Oh, dear,” the Dowager said.

  McGee said, “We have everything in hand, milady. The turbot required by Miss Enid and the lobster Miss Prunella must have will be served. Also the plover eggs in aspic. Fortunately we were able to obtain what we need quite quickly. Do you have any further instructions, Lady Granville?”

  “Mrs. Skinner, is there time for you to make a treacle pudding? The Marquis’s aunts are particularly fond of that.”

  Mrs. Skinner bobbed. “Yes, milady.”

  “And—” Hattie considered before saying “—strawberry syllabub always goes down well.”

  “Yes, milady.” Skinner actually smiled. “We make sure we always have some of those now.”

  “And some cheese-and-egg pies. Not a soul in the land makes those the way you do.”

  “Of course, milady.” Mrs. Skinner’s even broader smile transformed her. When she and McGee finally left the salon her cap flapped up and down on her graying hair, so enthusiastic was her walk.

  “Well,” the Dowager said the instant the doors had closed. “Such demands and rudeness toward their hosts. You have been with my sisters most recently, Hattie. Are they much changed?”

  “They are exactly the same as when I first met them.”

  Nathan said, “In all ways, d’you think, Hattie?” and reclined on one of the couches.

  Hattie ignored him. “I wonder how long it will be before they send for us.”

  “Pah.” The Dowager, renowned for her gentle nature, her easy charm, scowled as Fleur had never seen her scowl. “I shall give them a few more minutes then send McGee to say we’ll see them at dinner. Such nonsense. Age is no excuse.”

  She wore her favorite tangerine color today and looked lovely, although her manner suggested she might leave for the Dower House at any moment. “I was an afterthought to my parents, you know. Your father, boys, considered himself a great wit when he called me an accident. A shock might have been closer. There are twenty-five years between Enid and Prunella—and me. Naturally enough my sisters have thought of me more as their child than their sibling. It’s time to teach them the order of things.”

  “Bravo, Mother,” Nathan said.

  “What’s the matter with you, Fleur?” Dominic asked. Dressed for riding, his tall boots shining, he shifted to the edge of his seat and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Speak up, now. What’s happened? Are you ill?”

  Mesmerized by all the unexpected attention, Fleur took a moment to remember herself. “Oh!” She lifted her brows and blinked several times, then she rubbed the space between her eyebrows. “The Dowager Marchioness had such a magnificent frown. I suppose I must have been trying to copy it.”

  All the strain in the room evaporated and they laughed together. Fleur noted that Nathan laughed the loudest while Dominic looked at her as if he thought her amazing in the best possible way. He confused her.

  “You, Miss Toogood,” the Dowager said, “are spontaneous in the most charming manner. Unaffected
. A prize. How blessed will be the man who becomes your husband.”

  Fleur could only lower her eyes and blush but she heard both men say, “Here, here.” Now her discombobulation was complete.

  “It’s bound to be a little while before we’re called,” Hattie said. “After all, the large quantity of cakes must be carried from the kitchens all the way to the aunts’ rooms.” She turned to Fleur. “Their rooms are close to yours. Just two doors down on the opposite side of the corridor.”

  “Lucky Fleur,” Dominic said. He appeared to be counting and recounting the pieces of furniture in the salon.

  The sound of many feet on stone tiles came from the hall. By the time what must be the entourage of cake bearers started up the stairs, the noise resembled muted thunder.

  “All that for two women,” Nathan remarked. “Two really old women.”

  Fleur had been quite taken with the imperious ladies, one tall and one short and both with eyes that missed nothing. “The old hold a treasure in memories,” she said, looking at Nathan but quite happy with the notion that the entire gathering could hear. “They are our link to history and if cakes are what it takes to keep them alive and sharp, then give them all the cakes they want, say…I. That is…there are cultures that revere…their…old, because…”

  “A young philosopher,” Dominic said, but when she looked at him, resigned to her own brilliant cheeks, he showed no amusement. With his eyes narrowed and turned black by the shadow of his thick lashes, he ran the tip of his tongue along the edges of his upper teeth. He regarded her like a large animal eyeing a potentially filling meal and she shivered.

  “My son, the cynic,” the Dowager said quietly, as if she’d been deciding whether or not to comment. “You would do well to study Fleur’s generous spirit and see if you can’t find something similar in yourself. Or—” she framed her mouth with her forefingers “—could it be that you know you have a great gentleness within you and it makes you feel vulnerable?”

  Dominic seemed about to protest his mother’s assessment but he stopped and his expression grew distant. “I don’t think gentle is the word I’d use. But I respect Fleur and her regard for all people. She is not like any other female of her age I have met. How fortunate we are that you have such good taste, Mother, and that you showed your own generosity in bringing her here. We are all blessed to know her and take part in launching her.”

  Fleur felt her blood drain to her feet. Such a speech from Dominic overwhelmed her and she couldn’t look at him.

  “I heartily agree,” Nathan said.

  “Wait till John learns that his brothers have developed such good taste,” Hattie added and she, too, didn’t smile.

  Fleur gathered her wits and said, “Other than my own, you are the most special family I have ever met. However, do not take me for a fool to be fobbed off with pretty words and fine speeches, Dominic—and Nathan. You are rogues, or I am much mistaken.”

  The Dowager smiled delightedly.

  “I feel peaceful,” Hattie said suddenly. “I’m grateful. I need to relax now.”

  Fleur looked at her sharply and so did the Dowager. Then they looked at each other and a possibility dawned. Hattie existed almost entirely on strawberry syllabub these days, and the egg-and-cheese pie she had complimented Mrs. Skinner on. And now she admitted she needed to relax. The Dowager’s eyes filled will tears and she quickly looked away. Fleur felt an extraordinary welling of happiness and anticipation.

  “I’m going to see the aunts, and to dinner, dressed exactly as I am,” Dominic said.

  Dominic looked too handsome and powerful to be allowed in public at all, or so Fleur decided.

  She realized his announcement had been for his mother’s ears. He was testing her.

  The Dowager got up and shocked them all by going to pour herself a sherry. She turned and said, “Hattie, Fleur?” With the decanter still raised. Fleur felt daring and said, “Yes, please.” Hattie declined.

  This time the Dowager sat beside Fleur and they both sipped their drinks. Warmth flooded Fleur’s veins and she felt quite deliciously giddy.

  The Dowager arranged her flowing yards of silk in graceful folds and said, “I believe I shall spend the rest of the evening as I am, too. You, Fleur, look marvelous, as does Hattie. We would be well dressed wherever we went.”

  “That’s a relief,” Nathan said.

  “I don’t recall mentioning you,” the Dowager said, then smiled. “You never appear less than devastatingly handsome, you wicked boy. Now, what on earth is keeping Prunella and Enid?”

  As if she had rung a bell, there came the rapid return of footsteps, accompanied by chitter-chatter loud enough, Fleur thought, to be heard throughout a goodly portion of the house. “Not above stairs,” McGee’s voice rose clearly over the din. “Return to the kitchens in a quick and orderly fashion. I will be down to speak to you shortly.”

  It took some minutes for the footsteps to fade away. At that point there was another tap on the salon doors and McGee slipped quietly inside. His brows rose like question marks and his mustache turned severely down. Every bone in his face was white from the rigid way he held his features. “What is it, man?” Dominic asked. McGee put his hands behind his back and bowed. Fleur saw him trying to soften his expression. “There’s nothing to be concerned about. There’s been a small change in plans, is all. The Misses Worth have decided to take their tea and cakes alone—with Miss Chloe of course. And the cat. They want me to tell you that they will arrive for dinner in approximately an hour and a half and that they hope you will all be ready to answer the considerable number of questions they have for you.”

  “Gawd,” Nathan said. “The bloody Inquisition.”

  “Language!” Dominic said sharply and Nathan mumbled an apology. “They just don’t change, not really. Very well, an hour and a half. We will be there to eat our dinner and if they aren’t prompt they’ll be left eating theirs alone.”

  “Dominic!” Fleur said recklessly. “They are your elders.”

  “And you are my younger. Watch your tongue.”

  She started to get up but the Dowager eased her down again. “Calm down. All of you. I shall take some time for reflection right here. The rest of you, why not go to your rooms for some peace and meditation—and prayer that we will manage to navigate this dinner with the minimum of unpleasantness.”

  McGee shifted from foot to foot.

  The Dowager looked at him. “McGee, is there more?”

  “I think I should speak to Lord Nathan and Lord Dominic alone,” he said, casting beseeching looks at the brothers.

  “Is this about my sisters?” the Dowager asked. “If so, it is to me that you should speak.”

  “Right here?” McGee asked.

  “Just so. We are a family here.” She glanced at Fleur. “You, too.”

  “Very well. Miss Prunella Worth requested a conversation with me in private, to ask me a favor. Miss Enid was also present.” He flipped the tails of his coat. “You’re sure you want to discuss this now?”

  “Absolutely,” said the Dowager.

  “I expect the gentlemen will be the only ones who understand what I’m going to say anyway.”

  Fleur caught Hattie’s smirk and felt she might pop with curiosity.

  “Oh, you don’t think…” Nathan pulled himself to his feet and went to whisper with Dominic. The pair of them slapped shoulders and laughed.

  “McGee,” the Dowager said, casting disgusted glances at her two younger sons, “please proceed. Too much is being made of this, whatever is it.”

  “The ladies are enquiring about gaining entrance to Gentleman Jackson’s Rooms.” McGee spoke in a clear, determined voice. “Apparently they have a great interest in pugilism, pugilism and placing bets on the same. I should like your direction in this matter.”

  The Dowager’s eyes grew wide and she said, “You must be mistaken.”

  “Not so, Mother,” Dominic said, and Fleur was pleased he had the sense to put on a serio
us face. “But I consider this interest harmless and try to remember that we stay young by having hobbies.”

  “Hobbies?” the Dowager said weakly. “Gambling on men fighting each other?”

  “At least they don’t invite the victors to their rooms like—”

  Nathan was drowned out by the rest and Dominic pretended to take him by the throat and shake him.

  “Shame on you, Nathan,” Hattie said, the corners of her mouth twitching.

  “Ahem,” McGee said. “Could you please advise me? And I should mention that the ladies are hoping to view a private match. Arranged so they may watch alone.”

  “They were wrong to burden you,” Dominic said. “Forget their request, please. If they should mention these things again, come to me direct.”

  McGee regarded his employers with apprehension and hurried toward the door. He was about to allow the doors to swing shut when he said, “Please don’t let them know I mentioned what they said.” He stepped into the hall only to return.

  “I forgot. Dinner is in the scarlet dining room. The ladies requested that I tell you to dress accordingly.”

  27

  Dominic kept his voice down. “I should like you to come with me tonight. We should have plenty of time to examine the area around St. James Street again.” He had pulled Nathan into the orangeries and to a spot near the north doors where they had a good view of the entire area—or would have if it hadn’t been full of shadows. At least anyone approaching them would be revealed.

  “I’ll be ready,” Nathan said. “If we leave immediately after dinner, I’ll take a hack and wait in Roman Lane. No, we can go together. You won’t need a disguise this evening?”

  “Both of us need it tonight. Brother Cadwin brought a habit for you so I have no need to go after any of the ones I have hidden about. If you and I go as we are, we could well be picked out no matter how late we may be on St. James Street or how in their cups most of the people abroad are.”

  Nathan’s “Um-hm” didn’t sound enthusiastic.