The Best-Laid Plans

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The Best-Laid Plans Page 8

by Sarah M. Eden


  He did, however, worry for Ellie. He only wished he were in a position to do something to relieve that misery she experienced at home.

  “The rain does appear to have a let up a little,” Charlie said. “Word likely ought to be sent to the young ladies’ homes while there is a slight break in the weather so their families don’t worry about their whereabouts.” It was a thoughtful gesture, one quite common to Charlie. Truth be told, all the Jonquils were known for their thoughtfulness, even Charlie’s oldest brother, who was also known to be something of an eccentric. Artemis often berated Charlie, but he was a good sort.

  Mrs. Lancaster broke her usual silence once more. “We did send word around. The girls’ families will be happy to know they are safe and warm and dry.”

  That settled everyone’s worries. A moment later, the warm, dry ladies themselves arrived among them, chattering and talking with the enthusiasm of young ladies taking a brisk and invigorating walk in the country rather than having only just ducked out of a monumental downpour. Their spirits were not flagged by their earlier misery.

  Despite himself, Newton found his eye following Ellie in particular. She was such a joy to spend time with, clever and amiable, thoughtful and intelligent. She had become a particularly good friend.

  The new arrivals were soon seated, allowing the gentlemen to sit again, and provided with the same warming refreshments that he and Charlie had already indulged in. Artemis sat as far from Charlie as could possibly be managed without actually leaving the room or the group of friends. Newton suspected she was not usually so begrudging in her friendships and welcomes. It was remarkably intriguing.

  To Newton’s delight, Ellie sat near him. Everyone in this group knew their courtship was not real. She didn’t have to continue with the charade here. Had she forgotten that? Or was she sitting beside him because she genuinely wished to? And, perhaps more to the point, which answer did he most wish were true?

  The gowns Ellie usually wore were not anywhere near the first stare of fashion. She never looked dowdy nor truly unpresentable. He thought her quite pretty, truth be told.

  The dress she now donned, which she had apparently borrowed from Artemis, was extremely fashionable. It was a shade of deep purple that somehow made her brown eyes almost golden. And it brought out a hue of honey in her hair he had not noticed before. She was not built on an identical scale with Artemis. To that, their proportions were not at all the same. Yet the dress fit her well.

  Indeed, all the young ladies’ borrowed gowns looked as though they were made for the wearer. Either Artemis’s lady’s maid had been remarkably hard at work pinning and taping the various gowns to fit their temporary wearers, or they’d somehow procured gowns elsewhere. Whatever the case might be, Newton found himself unable to look away. He didn’t consider himself a shallow gentleman. He did not place physical appearance above all else. But there was something different in Ellie just now, beyond her more fashionable and striking appearance. She glowed with apparent happiness. Dressing in a fine gown and looking to advantage seemed to have inspired a change in how she viewed herself. There was a confidence there that rang truer than her usual air of self-assurance.

  “You look very lovely,” he said. Only after he offered the compliment did he realize it might not have been entirely appropriate. They were not actually courting, after all.

  But Ellie, true to form, accepted the compliment with a breezy and pleased demeanor. “Thank you. It really is beautiful. And it fits me so well. I don’t know how Artemis managed to find anything amongst her gowns that would fit me when my proportions are so different from her own.”

  “Artemis?” he pressed. “Was she directly involved in acquiring your dress?”

  She grinned unrepentantly. “Artemis threw open the doors of her wardrobe and pulled out two gowns without needing to even think it through and simultaneously sent one of the maids for a dress in her sister-in-law’s wardrobe. The three were perfectly suited to the one of us she intended it for. Different colors, different styles, but exactly what looks best on each of us. And then, as nimbly and quickly as any lady’s maid one could hope for—more so even—Artemis pulled out dress pins and tape and ribbons and temporarily altered each of the gowns to fit us beautifully. I’m half-convinced she’s more witch than seamstress.”

  Newton made a sound of pondering. “Witchcraft, for sure.”

  Ellie sipped at her tea, her eyes dancing with merriment. “Do you suppose the infamous Duke of Kielder would go on an absolute raging rampage if he knew his sister-in-law and ward wished to be a mantua-maker?”

  “Does she?” he asked.

  “I don’t know for certain. I suppose it doesn’t matter either way. She wouldn’t be permitted to pursue it. And not only because her guardian is such a fearsome gentleman but because those are the limitations of the rules set upon her. Set upon all of us, really.”

  Newton knew that all too well. “It is a shame people aren’t permitted to pursue those things that would fulfill and appeal to them, especially when what they long for isn’t truly inappropriate, nor is it hurtful to anyone.”

  Ellie nodded. “It isn’t as though Artemis would be taking up the life of a highwayman.”

  “Or as if I wish to be a villainous criminal rather than a barrister.”

  Ellie looked at him over the top of her teacup. He hadn’t meant to make that confession. What was it about her that pulled things from him that he hadn’t intended to say?

  “I find your parents’ objections strange. Being a barrister is not considered an inappropriate profession for a gentleman. Why, Charlie has a brother who is a barrister; no one can argue the Jonquils do not abide by propriety.” Her mouth pulled into a twist of thought. “His older brother is something of a dandy and perhaps a bit more outlandish than is generally seen, but I’ve never seen him behave in a way that was truly unbecoming of a gentleman; neither have I heard any rumors that he has.”

  Newton had made all the same arguments to his parents. Charlie had made these arguments to Newton. But in the end, his parents would not be swayed. “They consider it an insult that I would wish for any profession since my father’s estate provides me with ample income.”

  “I am sorry.” Ellie briefly touched her hand to his arm. “When parents get the notion that their children are meant to serve their egos and the way they are perceived in Society, the children’s best interests go by the wayside. We become tokens of success rather than people they are meant to care about.” It was too specific and quick an answer to not have come from any difficult experience.

  “Your parents have plans for you as well, then?”

  “Of course,” she said in a perfect imitation of her mother. Newton couldn’t help but laugh. “My parents have no sons. They have decided the purpose of their daughters is to improve their situation by marrying well. Of course, the definition of ‘well’ is limited to monetary gain and improvements and social standing. My older sister married a gentleman who had none of those things, but he loves her. She successfully resisted all my parents’ attempts to court someone they approved of. Lillian and I will not be so fortunate.”

  “If you’ll forgive me for saying so,” Newton said, “your nearest sister does not seem intent upon avoiding that mercenary sort of match.”

  Ellie acknowledged his statement with an uptick of her eyebrows and the slightest upward twist of her mouth. “Yes, Lillian shares their ambitions.”

  “Do you?”

  She allowed her smile to fully blossom once more. “If I did, would I be undertaking this mischievous plot with you?”

  “I suppose not.”

  They continued talking, mostly on light topics. She was easy to talk with. And she participated in the varied conversations going on around them. Some young ladies struggled with that, thanks to the gaps in their education as a result of the dictates of a Society that valued them far too little.
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  Newton had never considered himself a gifted conversationalist. He often struggled to speak at length with people; he was not unlike their hostess, except he wished he weren’t quite so reserved. There was something joyful about the company of someone who made being more of who he wanted to be an easier thing to accomplish.

  After they had consumed their tea and were warm again, a missive arrived. It was delivered, as was expected, to Mrs. Lancaster. After quickly glancing at it, she looked up at the gathering. “It is from the Nappers.”

  Newton’s attention immediately turned to Ellie. She had, quite to his dismay, paled and grown still.

  Across the way, all could hear Mrs. Lancaster unfold the parchment, the missive creaking with stiffness. Mrs. Lancaster read in silence. After a moment, she rose and crossed to Ellie. “There was a missive included for you.” She handed a letter, folded much smaller than the one she had received, to Ellie.

  “I hope they were not rude to you,” Ellie said.

  Mrs. Lancaster shook her head no. “But you look as though you expect them to be unkind to you.”

  Ellie sighed almost silently. “They generally are.”

  Mrs. Lancaster’s quiet and reassuring features folded into a look of utmost empathy. “The household I was raised in was much the same. I am sorry you have experienced that as well. No one should feel unsafe in their own home.”

  Newton hadn’t heard Mrs. Lancaster speak so many words at one time. That she pulled herself from her place of quiet comfort to offer kindness and understanding spoke well of her. It was little wonder that the Lancaster family adored this member of their clan.

  The room was silent as Ellie’s eyes scanned her letter line by line. Her pallor did not abate. Two spots of high color appeared on her cheeks, deepening the further she read. Though he could not be certain, Newton thought he detected tears in her eyes. He looked over at Artemis, intending to silently plead for her to come comfort her friend. Newton would have liked to have done it himself, but he knew that even in the context of their feigned courtship, he was not permitted to do so.

  Artemis did not have to be told. She hopped from her seat and crossed to Ellie, sat on the arm of her chair, and put her arm about her friend. Artemis was clearly reading over Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie did not raise any objections. At one point, Artemis’s eyes pulled wide and a quiet gasp escaped her lips. Whatever the Nappers had said to their daughter was, by all appearances, shocking. Based on the pain in Ellie’s face, this letter held nothing good.

  Ellie lowered the letter onto her lap and looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster. “I am afraid I must return home immediately.”

  Mr. Lancaster shook his head. “I can’t permit that. The weather is still poor. You would be soaked to the bone. I would not wish you to grow ill.”

  “My parents specifically instructed me to not allow the weather to be used as an excuse for remaining.”

  “Miss Ellie,” Mr. Lancaster said, “I assure you I have never been one to be bullied into being anything less than a gentleman. I will write to your parents myself and tell them you are to remain until I feel the weather is fine enough for you to venture forth. They may question my decision if they wish, but I will not be moved.”

  The tears fell from Ellie’s eyes in earnest. They might’ve been tears of worry or relief or exhaustion. Whatever their source, Newton’s heart broke to see them. He reached over and set his hand on hers, wrapping his fingers around hers. Hang proprieties. She was in distress, and he could not bear it.

  Artemis rose to her feet with the regal bearing of her namesake goddess. “No, Linus. I mean to amend your letter. Let us, you and I, write to the Nappers and tell them our Ellie will not be returning today because I have invited her to be my particular guest. They may object to the dictates of the weather, but they would not dare to balk at me.” The fierceness of her expression and fierceness of her posture would have set even the royal family quaking in that moment.

  Charlie, who was usually quite annoyed at her dramatics, silently applauded. The Huntresses nodded in firm agreement, tossing in words of encouragement and support. Ellie looked to Newton.

  “This is your salvation, Ellie,” he said. “Seize it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next twenty-four hours were overwhelming. Ellie’s belongings were brought to the Lancaster home. The note she had received the previous day had called her judgment into question, insisted her welcome would be worn to a thread within moments of her arrival, and declared she couldn’t possibly know how to behave properly and, therefore, was most certainly embarrassing them all and making a fool of herself. It wasn’t anything Ellie hadn’t been told before, but to read those harsh words after having had such a pleasant and welcoming interval with Artemis, the Huntresses, Charlie, and, most especially, Newton had been too jarring for her equilibrium.

  Then, just as she began to feel as though she had her feet under her again, Mother and Lillian called at the Lancasters’ house. Ellie had no illusions that the visit was a friendly one, given their last communication. The look on Lillian’s face only further convinced Ellie to brace herself for the worst.

  Ellie sat on a chair across from her sister, providing Ellie an unobstructed view of Lillian’s hard, unyielding pout. It wasn’t petulant; it was something far closer to angry. Had they not been granted privacy for this visit, Lillian would have kept her expression far more neutral.

  “This is most unusual, you know,” Mother whispered, eyeing the opulent room. “I am certain people in Society are wondering why you’ve left home.”

  “I am here as the particular guest of Artemis Lancaster,” Ellie said. “That is far from a comedown. Indeed, it will reflect well on our family’s standing.”

  “I was making adequate strides in that area,” Lillian insisted. “This scheme of yours is inexcusable.”

  “It is not a scheme. I made no suggestion that I stay here, no request that I be taken in. Artemis insisted on it without my input whatsoever.”

  Lillian’s mouth pulled tight. “And your audacity in calling someone of Miss Lancaster’s standing by her Christian name is shocking.”

  “She asked me to.” Ellie’s jaw was tightening right along with her sister’s expression.

  “I needn’t remind you,” Mother said, “that Lillian and your father and I are working diligently toward securing a match with Mr. Hughes. Do not ruin that.”

  “I have spent time with Mr. Hughes—he is a close friend of the Lancasters and Mr. Jonquil—and I have not seen any indication that he is interested in Lillian.”

  “Likely because you spend your time with him giggling instead of helping our cause,” Lillian said. “It’s unseemly, you know.”

  “As unseemly as doggedly pursuing a disinterested gentleman?” Ellie asked under her breath.

  Lillian’s expression somehow hardened further. “You have no understanding of the obstacles we face. Do not mock me for not being as ignorant as you are.”

  “I am not ignorant.”

  “Then you are a fool.” Lillian looked away, her mouth set in a line of disapproval.

  Mother was a bit more conciliatory. “Please, Ellie, do not make our situation worse. Yes, being Miss Lancaster’s particular guest is a welcome opportunity, but only if you do not misbehave and turn it into a disaster, as you do with so many things.”

  She had been told often enough that she was a misbehaved embarrassment for her to know perfectly well her tendency to “turn opportunities into disasters.” For once, she would have liked to have received a compliment or a vote of confidence. She would have settled for a neutral comment.

  “Do not make yourself a burden on this household,” Mother said. “Do not assume you are invited every time the Lancaster family attends a social event.”

  Ellie nodded.

  “And do not insist any of their maids see to your morning pr
eparations at the expense of their own duties. The Lancasters do not employ them on your behalf.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you though?” Lillian asked dryly.

  Ellie and her sister had never been as close as some sisters were, but this degree of animosity was new. She looked to her mother, hoping for some support there, some insistence that Lillian be less hostile. None was forthcoming.

  “Have they shown any indications of growing weary at having you here?” Mother asked.

  “They have offered nothing but words of welcome and kindness,” Ellie said.

  “I suspect they have,” Mother acknowledged. “But likely only because they are too well-mannered to allow that weariness to be obvious.”

  Did her mother truly think no one could possibly have her in their company for twenty-four hours without wishing to be rid of her? Her own mother found her tedious and unwaveringly de trop.

  Mother regaled Ellie with instructions for not making herself a nuisance. And Lillian treated her to absolute silence. By the time the two of them left, Ellie was exhausted. She didn’t even accompany them to the front door to bid them farewell but remained behind in the sitting room weighed down by the misery of their company.

  Is it so much to ask that my family have faith in me?

  She closed her eyes, fighting for her calm and equilibrium. She almost wished the constant scolding and reprimands made her angry. That, at least, would propel her onward. Instead, she was always left with a heavy heart, feeling broken and unsure of herself.

  “Your family are utter louts.” Artemis’s voice echoed from the far corner, amongst a grouping of chairs that had their backs to the rest of the room. From her chair, Artemis rose and walked toward her. “I was engrossed in a book and didn’t realize until it was too late that I was, essentially, eavesdropping on a private moment.” She sat on the sofa beside Ellie. “I decided interrupting and revealing my presence would be more embarrassing than hiding in the corner and waiting.”

 

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