Too Clever by Half: A Harrow's Finest Five Novella

by Nancy Yeager

  “It will matter. It will destroy my chance at the award. I’ll never get my dream.”

  She’d thought she’d found her place in this world, that she was meant to help other women who thirsted for knowledge. It had taken years to find a way to do it. And just like that, in the space of one sunny afternoon, it was gone. Her dream, her calling, her future, all gone. Soon Thomas would finish his studies, take his final university exams, and hole up in a laboratory where he’d never have need of her help again. He would always be her beloved brother, but the education his proximity had gotten her was about to end.

  “I can’t believe he did this to me.”

  Luci came to her side and embraced her. “Daddy and Mr. Alcott agreed the duke and the trustees won’t want to ruin you. No one will speak a word of this outside that small group.”

  “That’s important.” And she was sure it should be, but couldn’t quite think why right now, when her once-bright future had dimmed to an overcast twilight of an arranged marriage and a boring, uninspired life, once Thomas no longer needed her help with his studies. And James. Their romance, their work, their future together, had all become part of her dream, as well. He would go on with his life and his work without her.

  Tessa blinked away tears. “The silliest thing is, I thought he might actually care to court me.”

  “Let it all out.” Luci patted her gently. “I wish there were something I could do. I’m good with a pistol, you know. Mr. Alcott could have the misfortune of learning that.”

  Tessa laughed through the tears. “While I appreciate the offer, after all this disappointment, visiting you at Newgate Prison would only make things worse.”

  Luci pulled away and sat on the floor beside Tessa’s chair. “Then what’s next? You’ll still have to attend the ceremony, I suppose, to keep up appearances.”

  “Yes, I suppose I will.” Tessa rubbed a hand over her eyes. “At least I’ll have you and Thomas with me.”

  “We won’t leave your side. Except, perhaps, to accidentally come across Mr. Alcott in a dark hallway and land a well-placed blow in the middle of his shin. The important thing to remember is to use your heel, not your toes.”

  “Luci, I love you, and sometimes you frighten me to death.”

  Even with her world falling apart, her dear friend knew how to lift her spirits. She’d have a good cry later, alone in her sanctum, and say goodbye to the dream she’d held all her life and the plan she’d pursued for as long as she could remember. No doubt by the time three more years passed and the Trust distributed its next prize for an educational cause, her father would have her married off to someone who didn’t understand her and wouldn’t support her aspirations. But for now, she’d put on a brave face for Luci and enjoy their lunch together. Not that she expected to be able to choke down a single bite of food.

  Chapter 7

  Tessa looked beautiful in a pale pink ball gown embroidered with darker pink roses on dark green stems. If James could so much as catch her eye, he’d cross the quarter-length of the ballroom between them and tell her how lovely she looked this evening. But thus far, she’d managed to avoid eye contact with him. A niggle of doubt warned him something was wrong, but he did his damnedest to ignore it. She must be anxious about the ceremony. After all, he was nearly shaking with nerves, and he already knew what the outcome of the evening would be.

  Percy, looking nearly respectable in his finest captain’s coat sporting the ribbons he’d earned during his time in the navy, clapped James on the shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, James, I’d say the lady is ignoring you. I knew I shouldn’t have left you to your own devices with her.”

  James scowled. “I hardly think taking any advice you’d have to give would endear me to her.”

  “He’s right,” Edward said as he joined them. “Besides, tonight they’re competitors. It would hardly do for them to mingle. Better they remain in their separate corners.”

  “Sadly, as I’ve been told, this is no boxing match.” Percy grinned. “Although my money would be on the lady.”

  “Thanks ever so much.”

  While his friends talked and laughed, James resumed his quest to get Tessa’s attention and continued to fail miserably. He roused himself from brooding when Swimmer stopped by their small circle to shake James’s hand and wish him well.

  “All is set?” James asked.

  Swimmer’s eyes darted sideways. “Things aren’t set up exactly as we originally discussed.”

  “What does that mean?” James asked.

  “It’ll all be fine in the end,” Swimmer answered as he stepped away from them.

  “He looks well,” Edward said quietly.

  “It wasn’t easy to get him to this state,” Percy said. “But I think James’s devious plan to undermine the award gave him a sense of purpose.”

  “That’s hardly what he and I agreed to do,” James said, but he didn’t protest as he watched the three voting board members, all friends of the late duke, mount the dais in the center of the room.

  Swimmer, who had stopped to wish Lady Tessa well, now took his mother’s gloved hand and helped her up the step onto the platform. He stood beside her as the room fell silent.

  James took one last look at Tessa, who fidgeted with her fan and still refused to glance his way. Swimmer’s words echoed in his mind and sweat pricked the back of his neck. If things didn’t go the as he’d planned, the way he’d begged the board to decide their fate, it would break Tessa’s heart, and by extension his own. Worse, if she then learned he’d played a part in it by uncovering the truth about the non-existent Pettibone, she’d never forgive him.

  It was the duchess who welcomed the crowd, introduced the board members, and touchingly reminded everyone of how her late husband, the seventh Duke of Wrexham, had given so much of his time and energy to the charitable organization his own father had founded, and which was now headed by her son. She then invited the finalists to the dais, introducing Lady Tessa Harmsworth, representing the interests of Mr. D.H. Pettibone, first.

  Tessa hugged her brother Thomas and Miss Wagner, then received an encouraging nod from Fairbank. The man’s face was serene, despite knowing the truth about Tessa and the danger of scandal this night posed to all their reputations. James wished for half that much calm, but then the duchess called his name, and it was his turn to step onto the dais to the smattering of polite applause.

  Swimmer walked his mother to the most ornate chair in the center of the row of chairs on the dais. After she was seated, the board members took their seats to the duchess’s left, and Swimmer turned to nod at Tessa and James, who took seats beside each other on the duchess’s right. Swimmer then began his own brief speech, holding the respectful attention of the entire hall.

  “Lady Tessa,” James whispered, “whatever happens this evening—”

  Tessa snapped her fan open, missing his face by a mere inch, and waved it frantically. They stared at each other until James, with the bottom of his world dropping out from under him, turned his eyes to the back of Swimmer’s head. But he wasn’t seeing his friend. He wasn’t seeing anything except the agitated swooshing of Tessa’s fan. In that moment, he knew she’d found out he’d unmasked her. The question that remained was how much she hated him for it.

  “And now, as is the custom,” Swimmer continued, “before I announce the winner, I’ll read a brief excerpt from the winning proposal.”

  A manservant approached the side of the stage and handed up a leather folio, which the duke propped on a lectern and opened. “‘If you complain of neglect of Education in sons, what shall I say with regard to daughters, who every day experience the want of it.’ So wrote Abigail Adams, wife of American John Adams, in 1776.”

  James shook his head to clear it, not believing his own ears. This wasn’t his speech. He’d written in support of equal opportunity for education of all strong minds, but hadn’t mentioned women specifically. He’d quoted an English bishop, a French philosopher, and a 12th-centu
ry Italian poet, but not an American woman. Somehow, despite Swimmer knowing of her deception, the Trust’s board had awarded the prize to Tessa. His heart soared for her, for the freedom and validation the award would bring her, while it simultaneously broke for himself, as mourning for his own dream set in.

  She had won. Barely three words of the winning proposal were out of the duke’s mouth when the realization struck. This was her treatise. The duke had learned the truth about Pettibone because of James’s interference, and still, she’d won.

  But as quickly as her heart took flight with joy, it crashed to earth. Soon the duke would get to the rest of it, to the new plan she’d made, a plan that very much involved Mr. James Alcott, a man she no longer trusted. A man whose flirtation and kisses might have been as much a deception as her own Mr. Pettibone.

  “Congratulations, Tessa,” James whispered.

  She glanced at him. His kind eyes and smile radiated sincerity, confusing her even more. She had no idea what to make of this man, and through her own foolish scheme, she’d now tethered herself to him.

  The duke, having skipped ahead several pages for brevity’s sake, had now reached the heart of her treatise. Tessa held her breath as he read the words, her recommendation that she – representing Mr. Pettibone – and Mr. Alcott share the prize, and establish a joint scholarship program for deserving youngsters, both girls and boys. As the duke revealed the plan, murmurs rippled through the audience. Tessa hardly cared about their reaction, however. She only cared that James had turned toward her – not just his head, but his entire torso – and now stared at her with wide eyes. It would have been embarrassing, even improper, if anyone were paying attention to them instead of the duke.

  “Tessa, I had no idea you’d changed your proposal.”

  She stared straight ahead and waved her fan again. “Blame it on a fit of madness. Blame it on the full moon.” Blame it on her own foolish heart, more like. But she wouldn’t add to her humiliation by admitting her weakness to him. “You learned my secret and betrayed me with it.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” James whispered. “This plan you’ve proposed, that we should work together—”

  The duke cleared his throat loudly, causing everyone in the room, including James, to fall silent. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to read one final thing before we bestow our official award.”

  Tessa managed a sideways glance at James, unable to read his face. But as the duke read from more of her pages, further outlining the joint effort between James and her that she’d proposed, she instead glanced at the board members, then fixed her stare straight ahead.

  She didn’t recognize the words he was reading. The sentiment was the same, that the finalists of this year’s contest should be awarded the funds jointly, to found a scholarship program that would consider children based upon their abilities, not their gender. But the words, the sentences, the quotes used to support her argument, were not hers.

  She looked at James now, not even caring whether anyone saw her do it. He stared at her, the beginning of a smile tugging up the ends of his lips. It took several fast heartbeats for Tessa’s mind to interpret what her heart had recognized instantly. James hadn’t betrayed her. What he’d told the duke was of no matter, because his own proposal was the same as hers. They wanted the same thing.

  “You want to work with me,” she said.

  From his position in front of them, the duke was exclaiming how rare and unselfish both finalists had been in recognizing the value of the competitor’s work.

  “The scholarship won’t be just for Harrow, then,” she said, as more of the meaning of what was happening sank into her consciousness. “You’ll no longer be affiliated with them.”

  “It’s much more important to me to be affiliated with you.”

  They were the last words either of them had the opportunity to speak before the duchess and the board members rose to their feet, with James and Tessa quickly following their lead. It was the duchess who took two gold medallions, each with its own blue ribbon, from one of the board members. She handed one of the medallions to her son, and the two moved to stand in front of James and Tessa. The duchess placed the ribbon over James’s head, then shook his hand. The duke himself bestowed the medallion on Tessa.

  The audience, who had fallen silent as though to underscore the solemnity of the ribbon ceremony for the first award from the Trust since the old duke had died, now broke into raucous applause. Tessa laid her hand on the gold medallion, pressing it to her breast. The duchess raised one hand in the air, causing the clapping to diminish and then cease.

  “As is the custom,” she said, “our winner must choose a partner from the audience to join him in the first dance of the evening.” She turned toward James and Tessa. “This evening, I think it only fitting that our winners, such fierce and well-matched competitors, share that honor by dancing with each other.”

  Tessa was rooted to her spot on the dais until James held out his hand to her. She laid her gloved fingers over his, and he helped her step from the dais and onto the dance floor as the orchestra struck up a waltz. The spectacle of them being the only couple on the dance floor was brief, then Wrexham took his mother’s hand and they joined James and Tessa, signaling to the rest of the guests that is was time for them to join as well.

  As couples danced around them, Tessa finally overcame her astonishment and found her voice. “You learned the truth about Pettibone and told Wrexham. Why didn’t he disqualify me?”

  James turned her in a twirl, then pulled her closer. “Because I asked him not to.”

  “But it would have been yours, the whole prize, not just part of it. And you could still be working for Harrow.”

  He watched her face with his intense hazel-gold eyes. “As I told you, it’s more important for me to work with you, Tessa.”

  Her heart pounded faster than was necessary to keep up with the dance. “Thomas and I had concocted a story to tell my father in the event of me winning. Working together with you will complicate things.” She inhaled shakily, then spoke in a rush. “It would make things much easier if we were to keep up the ruse of courting.”

  James didn’t speak as the song ended. He bowed and she curtseyed, and he offered her his arm. He still didn’t speak as he led her to the edge of the crowd. Her mind was so distracted by the worry that he hadn’t agreed to her plan, she barely noticed as he led her out of the crowded ballroom and into an empty hallway, and then to a secluded alcove. Alone with him, she should have pressed for answers, but all she could think at the moment was that she was about to be thoroughly kissed. She closed her eyes as he feathered his lips softly over her brow.

  “I have no intention of keeping up the ruse of courting you,” he whispered

  His words jarred her to alertness. “You would kiss me, and then refuse me?” She took a step away as she seriously pondered slapping her fan across his face for taking liberties. Or for not taking liberties despite having so cruelly raised her hopes.

  His eyes crinkled as he let out a small laugh. “Before you pummel me with your fan, I think you should know I mean to court you properly, Tessa.”

  “Properly?” She swallowed hard and stared at his lips. “What does that mean?”

  “I think you know exactly what it means.” He closed the small gap between them and cupped her jaw to tilt her face up to his. Without another word, he settled his lips over hers and dissipated any lingering confusion over what proper courting would entail. Tessa grasped his lapels and leaned into him, kissing him back, first tenderly, then more deeply, until any question of her desire to be courted properly evaporated.

  When they finally pulled apart and caught their breath, he grinned. “I’ll take that to mean you’ll allow me to court you. Properly.”

  “The evidence would seem to suggest so.”

  “We dance divinely together.” He propped one hand on the wall behind her, obviously in no hurry to return to the party that was now for both of t
hem. “I think if we’d danced like that sooner, we would have reached this understanding days ago.” He traced his finger along the line of her jaw. “That would have been the wiser course of action, don’t you agree?”

  “I don’t agree, Mr. Alcott. I would hate to have missed besting you in so many arguments. It’s been so much fun, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes. The lady is right, as always.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and whispered words from Blake in his ear. “‘He who binds to himself a joy / Does the winged life destroy.’”

  He traced his finger along her lower lip. “‘He who kisses joy as it flies / Lives in eternity’s sunrise.’” And he claimed her lips with another joyful kiss.

  Copyright © 2018 by Nancy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to actual places, institutions, events, or people are used fictitiously. All other elements of this story are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to real places, institutions, events, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Nyb Publishing, Inc., Boston, MA