“I know,” Harriett moaned, grateful for her sister’s steady, nimble fingers. “But I had no choice. Not if I wish to keep Papa happy. Had I dismissed the blackguard, Papa would have been intolerable for a month.” She sighed with relief as her gown at last slid off. She nudged the stinking pile away with a toe. It would have to be washed thoroughly and dyed again. Or burned. “Help me into the lavender—no wait! The green, I’ll wear the green.”
“I agree, it is a much more flattering color for you,” said Cat, going to the wardrobe and taking out the celery brocade
contouche
.
Harriett scowled. “That’s not why—no, leave the stomacher. I don’t have time to change it out now. We’ll just hide the top with a fichu. As I was saying, that isn’t why I want it. I don’t wish to wear anything that might be looked upon as mourning.”
“Then you’d best take off that ring. Again.”
She looked down at her hand and stilled. She’d forgotten she was even wearing it. “It doesn’t matter. He’s already seen it.”
He kissed that hand…
The memory made it tingle. “To take it off now would raise suspicion.”
“And you wouldn’t want
that
after inviting him to break bread with you.”
Ignoring her sister’s sarcasm, Harriett slipped on the garment Cat held out for her and switched to the more important issue at hand. “He’s up to some foul trick, complimenting me the way he did.”
“How dare he extol your virtues in such a manner!” gasped her sister with mock vehemence. Her tone turned deadpan. “I fear the shock of it shall never leave me.”
In spite of herself, Harriett laughed. “If you knew him as I do, you would question his sincerity, too. He can be charming when it suits his purposes, but underneath the thin veneer is a deep well of black-hearted intent. That man is out for blood.”
Her sister paused in her ministrations to stare at her for a long moment. “Are you certain you are not making a mistake in assuming the worst?”
“Completely. I know what his game is, Cat, and I intend to best him at it.” She held together the front-side pieces of the
contouche
over her mismatched stomacher while her sister threaded a fat, deep green ribbon through the loops in a lattice pattern. With shaking fingers, Harriett inserted a deep green, pleated fichu into the gap to cover the offending blue before her sister pulled the ribbons tight and tied them off across her front in a large, pretty bow.
“There,” said Cat, stepping back. “Now what about your hair?”
“I haven’t time for much, and Ann always takes so long.”
“Sit,” commanded her sister.
Harriett complied and watched as Cat took down her half-fallen bun, brushed out the heavy mass, and plaited it into a chignon.
“Do you want any pins in it?”
“No. It’s just dinner.”
“Well, you must wear earrings, at least,” insisted Cat. She rummaged in Harriett’s jewel box. “Ugh. These won’t do,” she muttered, casting a pair of “emerald” drops back into the drawer. “You can get away with paste in the dim light at a ball, but not here...I’ll be back.”
While she waited, Harriett smoothed her hair, applied a light dusting of powder to her face, and daubed a bit of lavender scent to her neck. Her sister returned a moment later and presented her with a pair of gold filigree earrings. “Where did these come from?” She was sure she’d never seen them before.
“Arabella gave them to me,” answered Cat with a shrug, handing them to her. “They were a birthday gift from Elizabeth and Sir George. I think they’re lovely, but she didn’t much fancy them. I couldn’t believe it when she gave them to me.”
Harriett stared down at the jewelry in her palm. The work was exceptionally fine. Elizabeth would never have given Arabella such a gift. They had to have come from Oxenden. She wondered how many other “gifts” he’d given her in secret. She sat quietly while Cat fixed them onto her earlobes. She felt odd wearing them, but to refuse would arouse her sister’s curiosity.
“There, now you look a veritable queen,” said Cat, pleased with her handiwork. “Shall we?”
It was then that Harriett noticed her sister’s appearance. “You’re already dressed.”
“Yes, well it
is
nearly seven, you know.”
“I am well aware of the time,” Harriett snapped. “Exactly how long has Manchester been here?”
“He arrived just after three.”
Harriett didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. “Do you mean to tell me that, knowing the problems I’ve had with the man, you left him alone with Papa?”
Cat rolled her eyes. “I assure you their conversation had nothing to do with you. They were nattering on about some new building project Manchester is planning to finance. I was neither needed nor wanted, and as I was bored out of my wits by it all, yes, I left them and came up to change.”
The new sick ward. It had to be! Harriett’s heart beat a little faster. He
had
been serious! The smile she’d felt forming on her lips faltered. Or was it all part of some hideous ruse? She dare not allow herself to hope.
“Well, that seems to have put a binding on your tongue,” murmured Cat.
“There was some discussion about adding a building to the grounds. A building specifically to house the sick and help prevent the spread of contagion to the healthy,” Harriett explained. “I didn’t think he’d taken my idea seriously. I still don’t. I think he’s up to something. Something unpleasant.”
“So speaks the once-upon-a-time idealist. Where has your optimism gone?”
Harriett stared at her for a moment. “Do you want to know the real reason why I left the Penworth ball early?”
Cat’s blue eyes widened. “It
wasn’t
Russell, was it? It was Manchester!”
“Yes. We had a disagreement that night—about William,” she added before Cat could do more than open her mouth to inquire. It was mostly true. Well, partly true.
“You set your tongue loose, didn’t you?”
“Indeed,” Harriett conceded, her cheeks warming over her sister’s choice of words. “And though it was immensely satisfying at the time, I now deeply regret it. When Manchester did not return to the Hospital afterward, I thought maybe he’d decided to give up. I heard nothing for more than a week, and”—her voice broke—“Oh, Cat! I
so
wanted to believe I’d won! But now he’s here and talking to Papa, and I cannot believe he is not up to some devilry.”
When she finally spoke, Cat’s voice was hard. “Have you any knowledge about him that he might prefer to remain private?”
“Open warfare is not an option.”
“Who said anything about open?” Her sister’s eyes glittered dangerously. “I’ll ask Letty and Bea about him and see what they have to say. They know everything about everybody.”
Harriett fought down a spurt of panic. “You cannot be obvious about it! If he finds out that either of us is asking questions—”
“Relax,” said her sister with a smile far too wicked for her tender years. “I know how to be discreet. All I’ll have to do is nudge the conversation in the right direction. Once they get started they won’t stop until they’ve exhausted the subject. It’ll be like shaking a plum tree at the height of harvest season—I’ll simply wait for the fruits to fall.”
“Please be careful,” Harriett begged. “I appreciate your willingness to help, but I do not wish to invite yet more trouble or distract you from your purpose.”
“Why should it distract me? In helping you defeat your enemy, I may gain some information that can further my purpose. The man must have some unmarried acquaintances, after all.”
“I should have a care about pursuing any of
his
friends,” Harriett muttered. “Birds of a feather, you know.”
Her sister laughed. “I’m quite sure I can handle myself. Probably better than you and certainly better than you seem to think. I’m young, but I’m not blind nor am I deaf. I’ve spent my whole life listening to you, Arabella, Elizabeth, and all of your friends. I’ve learned how to navigate Society through observing your successes—and failures.”
Harriett met her steady gaze, wondering. Did she know about Arabella? But how? She’d been out visiting a friend the day their sister had come home in disgrace, and they’d had no advance warning of her arrival. Had Arabella, against Papa’s bidding, confided in her before she’d been spirited away?
The gold now dangling from her ears had come into Cat’s possession at some point outside of the carefully monitored visitations allowed by Papa before their errant sister’s departure.
Did
Cat know? Harriett longed to ask, but decided against it. It wasn’t worth the risk.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I’m glad to know you’ve gained such wisdom without having to endure the hardships that went with many of those lessons. And I’m very glad to have you as my ally. Learn what you can about him then—carefully. I shan’t turn down any information that might be of help in defeating him.”
“Wonderful!” said Cat. “And I promise he shall never know from whence your knowledge comes. No one would ever suspect
me
.” She opened her eyes wide and fluttered her long, curly lashes. “After all, everyone knows I’m empty-headed.”
“Catherine Dunhaven, you are no such thing!”
“Of course not,” she agreed with a sniff of disdain. “But letting everyone believe I am has its uses. The world is kinder to women who don’t let on they have a mind beyond that which is required to look pretty and keep a man’s house in order.”
Harriett let show her profound disapproval. “I cannot believe I am hearing this. I detest being treated like some featherbrained twit just because I’m a woman. I’ve had an extraordinarily difficult time convincing the world I’m worthy of its respect, and you want to
encourage
its derision of our sex?”
Her sister shook her head. “Not at all. I simply know which battles I wish to fight, and that is not one of them. I am not like you, Harriett. I’ve no desire to strive with the world. And though I know it will offend you further to hear me say it, I’m quite happy to let men think me a beautiful flibbertigibbet because it will be far easier to catch one of them that way.”
“But don’t you want someone who will appreciate you for who you truly are?”
“Of course! I should like nothing better. And perhaps, if I am lucky and choose well, I
shall
end up with a man capable of seeing me as more than a brood mare. But in the end, if I must settle for one who views me in such an unflattering light—well, that is what friends are for.”
“I could never marry a man who did not respect me as an equal,” Harriett told her, aghast.
“Which is why you will have great difficulty in finding a husband. You ask too much of the typical male. William was not like most men, as you’ve said countless times—and even
he
was surprised by you in the beginning, if you remember. It isn’t that I don’t want a husband who respects my intellect, but I
must
marry this year. I cannot afford to be too exacting. All I require is that he be kindhearted and a good provider. The rest can come later—after I’ve secured his name and protection.”
“And if it doesn’t come at all?”
“Then I shall be content to let him think me an adorable fool as long as he holds up his end of the bargain.”
Harriett looked at her sister with new eyes. “I think your future husband is in for the shock of his life.”
Cat’s smile turned sly. “Only if I choose to reveal myself in the end.” She patted an errant curl back into place. “We’d best get below before Papa talks the man to death and gives him more information than he ought.”
Roland looked up as the two women entered the room, and his mouth went dry as Harriett came around to sit opposite him. Her hair was up in a simple yet elegant arrangement, and she wore a pale green that brought out the color in her eyes. The teal gown she’d worn at the Penworth ball had had a similar effect, he remembered.
The memory of that night—
of that kiss
—assaulted him physically. She, on the other hand, looked cool and confident, as if the whole thing had never happened. He wondered how long she could keep up the façade.
Her sister sat beside him with a little bounce. “I was so pleased when Harriett told me you’d be joining us for dinner. Not that she and Papa aren’t excellent company, but it’ll be so nice to have someone new to talk to,” she said cheerily, earning her father’s stern glare.
Roland chuckled. “I suppose the saying ‘familiarity breeds contempt’ is somewhat true, isn’t it?” The girl was full of vim and vigor, her blue eyes curious, her manner engaging—and as unlike her sister as anything in both looks and temperament. By all rights, she ought to have been the more attractive of the pair. Instead, he had to fight not to stare at the taciturn Harriett. “I shall endeavor to be more entertaining than I was this afternoon, my lady.”
The blonde girl batted her lashes. “I’m delighted to listen to anything Your Grace wishes to discuss, of course.”
“Nevertheless, I’m sure we can find a more interesting topic for this evening’s conversation,” he promised, his gaze sliding to Harriett. “What say you, my lady?”
“I’m sure I couldn’t find anything more interesting to talk about than your plans for the Hospital,” replied Harriett, all sunlight and sweetness. “However, for my sister’s sake I shall agree to defer the topic. We will have plenty of time to discuss such things next week—if Your Grace is not obliged to be elsewhere, of course.”
Touché.
He favored her with a slow smile, acknowledging the barb. “Though my duties are more than enough to keep me busy, I shall always make time for
you
, Lady Harriett.”