Testing Miss Toogood

by Stella Cameron

  “Regardless of my experience when I went alone, Harry may have mentioned us to The Cat, Nathan. The boy doesn’t know who we are but if he sees you with a monk again, rather than just two monks hurrying on their way, he could make our lives more difficult.”

  Nathan caught him by the arm. “Look at me,” he demanded. “I fully understand your point about this evening. Whatever you want me to do—within reason—I will do. But you do not have my support in this ridiculous talk about entering the monastery. Escaping to the monastery would be closer to the truth and that is the wrong reason to go.”

  “Thank you for your opinion,” Dominic said. “Now is a good time to speak of tomorrow when the stakes will be very high. I hope there will be no necessity to rush away from the ball. There should not be if everyone does as they’ve promised to do. But in truth, I expect to go after the man and to catch him.”

  “I am concerned for Jane Weller’s safety,” Nathan said.

  “You think I’m not? This malignant coward of a man has done more than enough damage. I will keep Jane safe, but I shall be watching to see if there’s an attempt to get her away by a particular door, and act accordingly.”

  “Then I’ll have horses waiting,” Nathan said.

  “I believe I know where The Cat lives and does his deeds.”

  “What?” Nathan stood in front of Dominic, looked him in the face. “Why didn’t you tell me? How do you know this?”

  “I was lucky. I saw Harry again and went after him. Tonight I’ll show you the route he took. You’ll be surprised. Now, let’s separate and get a few quiet minutes before dinner.”

  “Dinner,” Nathan said through his teeth. “How many more irritations can be tossed our way when we have no time for them?”

  Dominic waited for Nathan to leave the orangeries and sat on a stone bench beneath the spreading limbs of a tree with night-scented blossoms.

  The abbot had expressed some of the same reservations as Nathan. A deeply spiritual man, the monk had asked Dominic to think and to pray before he made a final decision. The man had said that since Dominic’s cases were taken on to relieve hardship and to protect the innocent, he could continue with his investigative work from the monastery. There would be tasks to perform while he was there but once they were finished each day he would be free to come and go as he pleased.

  But was it what he wanted?

  Rapid, light footsteps, the scuff of slippers, alerted him to someone’s approach and he sat quite still with his face down and his arms crossed so his hands were beneath his arms. He should not be seen unless the newcomer held a candle aloft.

  No candlelight revealed him, but the swish of skirts and soft sound of slippers came straight in his direction. Resigned, he looked up in time to see Fleur arrive. She sat beside him. He felt her tremble and she slipped her hands around his upper arm. She leaned close to his side.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “Just dark, that’s all. Why didn’t you bring a candle?”

  “For the same reason as you. I was here when you and Nathan arrived, sitting on the other side of the rock river. I wasn’t at all afraid until I heard the two of you.”

  Damn it. He stared ahead into the gathering darkness. “Didn’t your parents tell you it’s wrong to eavesdrop?” Even as he chastised her, he rubbed her cold fingers. “If you don’t listen to other people’s conversation, you don’t hear things you’re not supposed to hear, things that may frighten you.”

  She clung to him tighter. “Please don’t go out there tonight, Dominic. Don’t go after that Cat person. He has declared that he intends to kill people and I don’t suppose he’d mind if one of them was a man. Please.”

  This was what scared him, this dependence when he didn’t know if he was capable of being what a woman needed—outside the bedroom. “Don’t concern yourself with me, please. Attend to your own affairs.” Her pleading, her obvious concern for him, did other things to him. He felt violently protective of her and touched that she cared about him.

  “You have become my affair.”

  Surely she knew how reckless she was. “Promise you won’t repeat a word of what you heard here,” he said. “You would do no good and you might cause a great deal of harm.”

  “I would never do something to harm you. And no matter how harshly you speak to me, you cannot make me stop caring about you,” Fleur said.

  “Be cautious,” he told her, and his heart beat too fast. “Such declarations of affection can leave you feeling foolish and vulnerable. I don’t wish that on you, not until you find the man you want to spend your life with.”

  Fleur didn’t answer.

  “I want you to look forward to your ball. It will be beautiful. Wait until you see all the preparations. They’ll start early in the morning.”

  “Who is Jane Weller? I know a little about her but not the whole truth.”

  “She is someone you have no need to know. It would be dangerous for you to as much as mention her. Dangerous for her and for you. Do you understand?” Best not to tell Fleur she knew almost as much about Jane as he did.

  She didn’t speak, but she turned on the bench and took his face in both of her hands. In the gloom he could still see the radiance of her eyes. She got up and bent over to place a light kiss on his brow, then kissed his cheekbone, his jaw, the corner of his mouth and, finally, his neck. Fleur slid her hands over his shoulders and held her face in the crook of his neck.

  “Fleur—”

  “No. Don’t say anything. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’d better go now.”

  Fleur entered the hall and Hattie pulled her aside. “We have to be strong for the men,” she said. “Mother may have a few acid words for her sisters about their earlier behavior, but if the ladies become difficult, the men will only contain themselves for so long before we get some total disaster.”

  Fleur blinked several times, fast. “Disaster? What kind of disaster?” Her stomach felt jumpy. Surely Dominic and Nathan wouldn’t resort to some sort of violence. “Might they, well…throw something?”

  “No.” Hattie shook her head and frowned. “But they could do something intended to be funny and to divert attention from whatever annoyance the aunts may cause.”

  “How can we help?” Fleur said. “I don’t know what to expect.”

  Hattie patted Fleur’s hand. “I have been through what Nathan called ‘the Inquisition.’ I will do my best to lead you, and to head off the aunts’ questions about you. But I need you to help me deal with Dominic and Nathan who—if they remain true to their history—are likely to make this dinner a misery.”

  Fleur had long ago decided that people like the Granvilles led very complicated lives. “I will do my best.”

  Hattie pressed her hands to her bosom. “They have been known to burst into song. Rude song.”

  Fleur drew in a sharp breath. “Whatever should we do about that? Anything I can think of would only add to the confusion.”

  “Pretending to faint might help.” Hattie bit her bottom lip and Fleur had a suspicion the Marchioness was containing laughter rather than tears.

  She could play along with the game, although she would have preferred a serious plan just in case they needed one.

  “I mean it,” Hattie said, bringing her mouth close to Fleur’s ear. “And it will have to be you who swoons. I would happily do it but there are reasons I shouldn’t—not until after John gets home, anyway. I promise I’ll explain later.”

  “Mmm.” Fleur felt like smiling now. Hattie must definitely be increasing but she thought her secret was still safe and wanted her husband to be the first to know. Or something like that.

  “I don’t know how Nathan does with a swoon,” Hattie said. “I know Dominic is splendid, very gallant and caring. I’m sure he’ll forget all about singing in his rush to rescue you.”

  “Mmm.” She wished she need not think about Dominic and she certainly didn’t want to look at him across a dinner table. And as for having him pick her up in his
arms and…carry her… “I do believe I could manage to swoon if I had to.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Hattie whispered and patted her back strongly. “We’ll manage.”

  At that precise moment, the gentleman in question appeared. Fleur decided he had remained in the orangeries until the last possible moment.

  “Hello, Hattie,” he said and met Fleur’s eyes. “Fleur.”

  He would enter a monastery. Because he was moved by religious fervor? Or because he wanted to escape the expectations his family and the world placed upon him? Did Lord Dominic Granville fear the responsibility of a wife and children of his own so much that he would withdraw completely?

  “Look at all this,” he said. “Enough servants scurrying around to throw a party for all London.”

  “This is a big event for the aunts,” Hattie said. “I can’t remember the last time they went out—that I was aware of.”

  Dominic snorted. “It is all the times you aren’t aware of that should concern us. Mother is spoiling them—and catering to their whims. Old bats.”

  “Dominic,” Hattie cried but her grin ruined the shocked tone of voice.

  Fleur stepped out of the way to allow a string of maids to pass, their starched aprons crackling, and she felt Dominic watching her.

  Footmen wearing light-blue-and-silver livery stepped out smartly. Buckles shone on their shoes.

  “Where is Mother?” Dominic sounded furious. “And Nathan. Hell and damnation—I beg your pardon—why is it that we are here and Nathan is not?”

  “I’ll ask him when he arrives,” Hattie said, all innocence. “I thought your mother was in the salon but she isn’t.”

  “Hell and—yes, well, I suppose we can’t expect those we trust most to back us up at such times. Is your family close-knit, Fleur? Do they rally round in times of trouble?”

  “They do,” she told him promptly. “But dinner with some relatives wouldn’t be considered a time of trouble at the rectory.”

  “We’d best change the subject,” Hattie said quickly.

  Dominic took out his watch and held it in a palm. “It is ten minutes past time. In we go—after all, someone must be first.”

  “You mean you want to go directly to the dining room?” Hattie asked. “Surely we should wait in the salon and behave as if nothing’s amiss. For the sake of peace?”

  “I’m going into dinner,” Dominic said. “You may come with me or continue to hover somewhere.”

  Fleur looked at Hattie, who said, “Let’s not hover.”

  The scarlet dining room was reached through the salon. Dominic offered each lady an arm and strode toward closed doors where flunkies stood at attention. Dominic turned his head to look down at Fleur and the unreadable, unblinking quality of his stare excited her—and sent shivers down her back.

  The flunkies saw Dominic with his two companions scurrying—unceremoniously—to keep up, and threw open the doors.

  A lustrously shining table stretched before them. Flowers in highly polished silver bowls and tiered dishes of sugared fruit were bright splashes of color and silverware shone by the light of a hundred candles in the crystal chandelier.

  Seated between the Misses Worth, Nathan got up at once. Fleur had never cared for smirks, but Nathan smirked then turned up one corner of his mouth. “Better late than never,” he said cheerfully. “Aunt Prunella and Aunt Enid couldn’t wait any longer for their dinner.”

  “And neither could I,” the Dowager said, but her eyes smiled. She sat opposite Miss Enid.

  “Nor I,” Nathan said rapidly.

  “Traitor,” Dominic murmured, for Fleur and Hattie’s ears only. “He’s enjoying this. But he won’t for long.”

  “Let it go,” Hattie whispered and took a seat beside her mother-in-law and opposite Nathan. “Take the head of the table, please, Dominic, and, Fleur, you sit next to me.”

  Which meant Dominic was to Fleur’s left and she felt completely out of place.

  “Good evening, Aunts,” Dominic said. “I trust you’re both somewhat rested now.”

  Miss Prunella Worth, a tall, ample lady with white hair and whiter skin, bent close to her soup plate and said, “Do you see anything in it, Enid?” A puff of bright pink rouge decorated each cheek and lights bounced from the lenses of her pince-nez.

  “I’m not sure,” Miss Enid said, patting the soup with the back of her spoon.

  Her voice reminded Fleur of someone doing a duck imitation. Small and very brown, Miss Enid’s bright eyes looked out from a web of wrinkles. No rouge there. She looked at Dominic and said, “You are very late for dinner, young man.”

  “What’s that?” Miss Prunella’s spoon landed in her plate with splat, sending thick little waves across the surface of her soup. “Got it!” A quick swipe of her napkin over the spoon and she continued eating.

  They aren’t well. How can the family get cross with two old ladies who aren’t quite themselves anymore? Fleur’s soup was served, and Dominic’s and Hattie’s. And still the old ladies kept their faces bowed.

  “You must be very tired from your long journey,” Fleur said. “I know my grandmother tires very easily now.”

  “Your grandmother?” Miss Prunella raised her face to give Fleur the blinding impact of the pince-nez lenses. “No doubt she does, poor thing. She must be quite ancient and, of course, she’s had children.”

  Dominic leaned in Fleur’s direction and whispered. “Good going. Now you’ve done it.”

  He got a prompt smack to the back of the hand from Miss Prunella. “Don’t whisper in company. Henrietta, you poor dear, that husband of yours had no right to die so young and leave you to bring up these brutish sons.”

  “Brutish?” Nathan said. “Brutish, Auntie Pru? And I thought you doted on us.”

  “That is the first and the last time you will be disrespectful to my sister,” Miss Enid said. “Henrietta, I assure you we had no idea how rebellious the boys had become. In Bath they behave quite well.”

  “How has the weather been in Bath?” the Dowager asked, all serene oblivion. And, Fleur thought, very clever to turn the conversation in a new direction.

  “It’s probably the fine weather that settles the boys down there,” Miss Enid honked, not to be diverted. “And I’m sure the sulphur from the baths gets into the air and has some sort of calming quality.”

  “The baths and the bloody water are foul,” Nathan said. “But I do think that since they’re so convenient to Worth House, you two should take advantage of them. I’m sure you could get Mrs. Gimblet and Boggs to wheel you down there.”

  A dreadful silence followed until Miss Prunella said, “Do you think we don’t know when we’re being goaded, Nathan? We have no need to be wheeled anywhere. You know perfectly well how we detest even the thought of those filthy baths. Henrietta, can’t you—”

  “Yes, I know,” the Dowager said. “I’ve always felt exactly the same about the baths. Nathan, dear, eat your soup or it will be cold.”

  “It’s already cold,” Nathan told his mother.

  “Henrietta!” Miss Enid’s voice silenced everyone. “Before I forget, how is your painting progressing?”

  The Dowager didn’t look happy. “Well, thank you.”

  “Prunella and I are looking forward to seeing your little efforts. What is it you paint?”

  “I don’t talk about it,” the Dowager said, her face stony.

  “Come on, Mother,” Nathan said, apparently oblivious to the danger he invited. “We know all about the fruit and vegetables that come fresh to the Dower House each day. And the flowers. I’m sure you paint very pretty pictures and I agree with the aunts, it’s time you shared them with us.”

  “Is it?” the Dowager said. “Is there nothing you prefer to keep to yourself, Nathan? I am not a woman who cares to make a spectacle.”

  Nathan cleared his throat and looked at his empty plate, which was quickly removed and replaced with a tiny dish of water ice to clear his palate.

  “Miss Toogo
od,” Miss Prunella said, “who are your people?”

  “Blast,” Dominic muttered. “Here we go.”

  Fleur supposed this must be how the Inquisition began. “My parents are Reverend and Mrs. Toogood of Sodbury Martyr in the Cotswold Hills. I have four sisters. Letitia is older than I, Rosemary, Zinnia and Sophie are younger. We do not have a great deal of extended family although the grandmother I mentioned, my papa’s mother, has played a significant part in our lives and we love her very much.”

  “A country parson’s daughter,” Miss Enid said. “On the hunt for a fine catch to ease the family fortunes, no doubt.”

  Fleur looked at the lady until she met her eyes, then said, “That does seem to be the primary reason for all this partying and rushing around, and pretending you like people you consider feckless, and spending time with people who are self-centered and rude. The Dowager Marchioness and my mother are old friends and the Dowager—with great generosity—offered to give me a season. My family could never afford such a thing.”

  A slow smile pleated Miss Enid’s thin brown skin. “A girl who can speak up for herself. The first point goes to you.”

  Fleur’s stomach sank. The questions were to continue.

  “Come now, Enid,” the Dowager said. “I didn’t invite you here to embarrass this sweet girl who will make some man the best of wives.”

  “You didn’t invite us here at all,” Prunella said, raising her thin beak of a nose. “We decided there is too much afoot in this family and we should be with all of you before some dreadful disaster comes along.”

  “And what would that be?” Nathan asked. His thunderous expression only deepened Fleur’s unrest. “What possible disaster could be about to occur?”

  Don’t sing. Please don’t sing. Fleur pressed her palms against her skirts.

  “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Prunella said. “To find out the nature of the impending disaster and decide how best to deal with it. We have decided something is afoot, something you’re all keeping from us. Well, be secretive but we shall uncover the mystery.”

  Servants came forward to remove plates. Thick cutlets of venison were served and for a few moments the succulent meat took precedence over conversation.