Chapter Seventeen #2
“I see you’ve done your homework, my dear.
Those are excellent places to visit—especially Greenwich, one of my favorites,” said Mrs. Dove-Lyon, her voice thickening with sudden emotion.
“There’s a lovely public garden with a lush, manicured lawn overlooking the village below.
It makes a lovely place for picnics. My dear departed husband and I often picnicked there… it was one of our favorite spots.”
“Your description of the site sounds lovely. I will do as you suggest if I can go there, Mrs. Dove-Lyon,” Ashlyn said.
A knock at the door preceded Lady Paula’s entrance.
She took her seat next to her mother on the settee and glanced toward Ashlyn.
The room had begun to feel more like the site of an interrogation than a simple tea party, Ashlyn thought.
Mother and daughter Ashbourne sat across from her, both wearing the same simpering smile on their lips, while their eyes gleamed at her with a sharp intensity, as if there something were amiss with her nose.
It took all of Ashlyn’s determination not to check to see if there was a fly on the tip.
“Do you plan to secure a husband on this trip?” Lady Paula asked abruptly, still smiling as her teacup clinked against its dish.
Before Ashlyn could answer, Lady Ashbourne delicately coughed and added, “What my daughter means is that we couldn’t help but notice the Earl of Ravensthorpe’s interest in you. Are the two of you a couple?”
How forward! The apple surely hasn’t fallen far from the tree in this family.
Such was her shock. Ashlyn was glad she had not taken a sip of tea, or she’d have spat it all over them.
Both Ashbourne women seemed to be challenging her, and while she couldn’t see Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s reaction, the sharp, startled intake of breath from the woman gave her a clue to it.
Rather than fluster or falter, Ashlyn took a steadying breath and considered what Elizabeth might have said.
Then, summoning a smile that was all charm and borrowed confidence, she replied sweetly, “Lord Ravensthorpe and I have become good friends. However,”—she paused just long enough to make her meaning clear—“it would be most unladylike of me to discuss the particulars of my…friendship with the earl. If your curiosity on the matter is truly so keen, perhaps you would do better to ask him yourself.”
Before either woman could gather a retort, Ashlyn reached for a sandwich from her plate. “These are delightful,” she said, her tone as calm as ever. “Cucumber has always been my favorite.”
As she took a dainty bite of the sandwich, she thought she saw the flickering of a smile on Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s face beneath the black lace.
Lady Ashbourne’s statement had made it abundantly clear—Lady Paula had set her sights on Gabriel, while her dreadful brother, judging from his horrid actions, had set his sights on “Elizabeth,” the heiress.
Ashlyn could not help but feel her heart sink.
In truth, she had no claim on Gabriel. Nor would she—she could not, in all good conscience, return to America and forget her time with him and his family and the kindness they had shown her.
She resolved to write them each a letter explaining the situation and include a note for Caro.
But only after everything with Elizabeth and her parents had been resolved.
Once it became public that Miss Elizabeth Vickers, the American heiress, had eloped and married the Italian artist, people might speculate on when that had happened.
She did not want to be in England when the gossip surrounding her cousin started, along with speculation of how her aunt and uncle had reacted.
But she could do nothing about any of that.
She would explain to Gabriel and the dowager countess what had happened and why, and apologize for lying to them about her name—but not about how much she had grown to care about them and Caro. She would also send a book with illustrations of American Sign Language.
In the meantime, while she was still attending this dreadful house party, she would certainly be on guard with Lord Pervis. There was no way she could stomach being a part of this family.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon cleared her throat. “Bravo, my dear. You are wise to keep your thoughts to yourself. Your parents have a very enviable marriage. I recall their courtship well. They, too, began as friends.” Ashlyn didn’t miss the pointed smile the older woman gave to the Ashbourne ladies, and inwardly cheered.
For some reason, she felt Mrs. Dove-Lyon could be counted on as an ally.
Lady Ashbourne glanced in the direction of her friend before turning back to Ashlyn with a tight smile. “Will you be joining us for a game of pall-mall later this afternoon?” she asked.
“Yes, my lady. That was my plan,” Ashlyn said, before taking a bite of her second cucumber sandwich. “These have an extra zest to them. Would you mind asking your cook if it’s lemon or lime that she uses, or both? I can’t quite tell. But I simply must share this recipe with our family’s cook.”
“Yes…I’ll be certain to ask,” Lady Ashbourne sputtered.
Score one for Elizabeth, thought Ashlyn, enjoying the last nibble of the sandwich.
“Mother, if you don’t mind, I need to be excused. I just remembered an important matter I need to take care of before the pall-mall games today,” Lady Paula said.
“Certainly, daughter. We’re just thrilled to have Miss Vickers here, so we can find out more about her.”
Ashlyn watched Lady Paula walk out the door and experienced what she realized was a pang of jealousy, wishing that it were she leaving.
“Oh, good! I’m glad you’re here so I don’t have to look for you,” Paula said, finding her brother loitering outside the parlor.
“Because of your miserable failure last evening, I must resort to my backup plan. Watch the door, and if they break up in the next fifteen minutes, do whatever you must to distract her. Whatever you do, don’t let her go to her room. ”
With that, Paula hurried up the stairs to the rooms where her mother had placed the guests.
She’d tried the key last night, and it had worked.
But as much as she had wanted to, she didn’t open the door last night for fear she’d be caught.
Now, she knew Pervis would be watching and making sure that Miss Vickers remained away from her room.
She hurried down the hall until she found the room assigned to Miss Vickers.
It was not one of the nicer rooms—she’d seen to that, although if her cousin had come, they would have had to assign them to the larger, yellow room that was across from Lord Ravensthorpe.
She’d kept that room empty, just in case she could lure him there.
Her own room was down the hall from his.
It had been agony waiting for him to return last evening after he and Miss Vickers had slipped from the drawing room where the partygoers were playing whist. And because of that shameful woman, Paula had taken her attention off her hand and lost. She never lost at anything.
And she had no intention of losing at this.
Sliding the key into the lock, she listened for the click, then quickly opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her.
“There has to be something I can find on Miss Goody-Two-Shoes,” she whispered, tapping the key to her chin.
“Everything was going my way until Mrs. Dove-Lyon insisted on inviting her friend’s daughter.
I have to make certain that tall colonial leaves before she messes up everything and snags the man I have been yearning for, for years. ”
Paula searched the room, opening drawers, sliding her hand under the mattress and pillows, even looking under the bed. Nothing. There was nothing she could find anywhere in the room.
Furious and frustrated that she couldn’t vent her anger with a good, loud shriek, she kicked the trunk.
She hadn’t intended to cause any damage, but the trunk fell over, and the lid fell open—and a few small boxes and various other items tumbled out.
“Oh no, now I’ve really made a mess. Pervis better keep the tart down there. ”
She’d begun putting things back into the trunk when she noticed what looked like a small secret compartment that was slightly open.
“What have we here?” Pulling down on the panel, she gradually sprung the lock, opening it.
She reached inside and withdrew a burgundy leather diary with the letters AM embossed on it.
Curious, she opened it to the pages in the back and began to read.
Minutes later, she smiled. “This will do nicely,” she said, stepping over pieces of Miss Vickers’s things and ignoring the spilled trunk as she walked to the door. “She’ll need the trunk open when she packs to leave, so I may as well leave it be,” she said, glancing back at the ransacked room.
With that, she exited the room and hurried to hers.