Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
T he swish of skirts suddenly rose above the ruffling of the leaves.
“Jack!”
He turned to see Harriet quickening her steps to catch up with him and his two companions as they cut through the square’s center gardens.
“Might I have a word with you?” she called.
“You go on,” he said to James and Amirault. “I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”
Seeing him halt, Harriet slowed to a more measured pace. Through the dappled shadows it was impossible to read her expression—a fact that caused his brow to furrow in consternation. Damnation, her thoughts are usually writ plain on her face. But of late, since her odd question concerning mystery, they had been difficult to decipher.
As if intent on teasing him into a black humor, she paused when she reached him and took a moment to catch her breath instead of speaking her mind.
“Well?” he asked impatiently. “What is so deucedly important that you had to chase after me?”
Her chin took a defiant jut, a sure sign that she, too, wasn’t in the best of moods. “This.”
Jack eyed the folded piece of paper she held up and swore silently.
“It must have fallen out of your pocket, for it was under the chair.”
“Thank you,” he replied curtly, taking it from her outstretched hand.
Harriet responded by telling him he was quite welcome. In French.
“Harry,” he began.
“You don’t have to say anything more,” she interjected. “I didn’t have an opportunity to mention it in Gunter’s, but I also wanted to tell you that I had a chance to speak to my father about the three names you gave me. There are some things that might interest you, including several nuggets of information on your new friend, Comte Amirault. I’ve written them up, but as I didn’t expect to meet you, I didn’t bring them along.”
He shifted his stance. “Thank you.” She deserved a more appreciative response than that, but he couldn’t seem to think of what to say. “Might I stop by your townhouse in the morning to pick them up?”
“Of course.” Silk rustled against the smooth gravel. “Don’t let me keep you any longer from your port.”
“Harry—”
The sounds ceased.
“I don’t suppose you are attending Lady Mifflin’s musicale tonight?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. Her daughter is a friend. We are both members of the League of Wallflowers.”
“The League of Wallflowers?” he repeated. “I thought you didn’t give a fig for gardening.”
A faint smile played on her lips. “That’s what we call ourselves—the unremarkable blooms who cluster together in the dark alcoves at the back of the ballroom. Men prefer the showier specimens, but we’ve come to greatly enjoy each other’s company.”
Harriet thinks of herself as unremarkable? Granted, she was not a reigning Diamond of the First Stare, but now that he thought on it, she was quite attractive in her own way.
A low cough roused him from his momentary reverie. Wrenching his gaze up from the intriguing glimpse of creamy flesh exposed by the shallow “v” of her bodice, Jack cleared his throat.
“I enjoy your company, too,” he muttered.
Her smile grew more pronounced. “Yes, well, who else would tolerate your infernal teasing?”
“There is that.” And the fact that you’re clever and funny.
“I’ll bring the list tonight,” she said dryly. “And no need to say ‘thank you’ again.”
He grinned, glad to be back to the usual good-natured banter with her. “Nonetheless, thank you.”
As the aria warbled to an end, Theo let out a relieved sigh and whispered, “Annabel possesses a great many laudable talents. Singing is not one of them.”
Harriet nodded and waited as the guests seated close by rose and hurried off to the supper room, where a sumptuous array of delicacies were being offered as refreshments. “Unfortunately her mother insists on the lessons, saying a gentleman expects his future wife to have mastered the genteel arts of sewing, singing and sketching.”
“There is another activity that begins in ‘s’,” murmured Theo.
Harriet choked down a burble of laughter. “The existence of which no young lady is supposed to admit to knowing, much less mentioning it aloud.”
“It seems very strange, doesn’t it?” mused Theo. “The thought of it must never cross a young lady’s mind, and yet it seems that a young gentleman is encouraged to think of nothing else.”
“I hadn’t considered it like that, but you are right.” She sighed. “Like many of society’s strictures, there are two sets of rules. It’s very unfair.”
“I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help wondering about it,” said her friend in a small voice. “I mean, if men seem to find it so... pleasurable, then it must not be so onerous.”
Harriet had experienced far more of the world than Theo, and had come to much the same conclusion. “From what I have seen and heard in my travels, I think you are right. But... but I don’t know for sure.”
“Neither do I.” Theo echoed her sigh. “And perhaps I never will.”
They exchanged pensive looks, and then suddenly Harriet let out a laugh. “That is why we need social reform. So we ladies are permitted to know more about life than we do at present.”
Theo allowed an impish grin. “Perhaps I’ll join Lady Catherine’s group for more than just the advice on fashion.”
“I think you would find it very—” The sound of someone approaching caused Harriet to cut short her reply.
“Surely you two lovely ladies are growing thirsty with all that talking.”
The silky French accent stirred an unpleasant prickling down the length of her spine.
“Allow me to escort you to where they are serving refreshments,” continued Amirault. “The lobster patties are magnifique and the champagne is excellent.”
Harriet reluctantly accepted his hand and rose. Theo was slow to follow, which earned her an irritated glare.
“Do you like music, Comte?” asked Harriet, quelling another little frisson of dislike. Having lived in the carefully choreographed world of diplomacy, she could, when she so chose, mask her true feelings with a show of politeness.
“Not particularly.” He winked. “I come for the engaging company and excellent wine. But please don’t betray my secrets.”
She said nothing in reply.
“ Alors , may I fetch you a plate of delicacies?” he asked as they passed into the supper room.
“How kind of you. Theo prefers lobster while I am very fond of duck pate,” she replied. “We will wait for you by the terrace doors.”
“Oh, that was evil of you,” whispered Theo as he stalked away.
“His Gallic charm is too oily by half. You saw him when he first met us—we were of no more interest to him than a speck of paint on the wall until he heard that my father was a diplomat.” She watched him move through the line at the banquet tables, oozing smiles and polite flatteries. “He’s trying to grease the wheels of my vanity because he wants something from me.”
Theo considered her words. “Some might call that cynical,” she said softly.
“And others would say it’s simply realistic.” Her gaze strayed back to the crowded room, slowly sweeping over the guests in search of a carelessly combed shock of dark hair. “You prefer to think the best of people, while I prefer to think the worst.” With an inward wince, she chided herself for acting like a moonstruck schoolroom chit. If Jack did indeed make an appearance, it was only for the pragmatic reason of fetching her notes on the Royalists.
“That way,” she added, “I am rarely disappointed.”
On that note, Amirault returned and escorted them to one of the small dining tables set along the perimeter of the room.
They were quickly joined by another Frenchman, whose fair hair and sunny countenance were in sharp contrast to the dark locks and false smile of his countryman.
“Come, Amirault, you must not be allowed to keep these young ladies all to yourself.”
The comte did not look happy to see the fellow—which Harriet decided was a mark in the stranger’s favor. Looking up with a smile, she quickly invited him to join them.
“ Merci !” He inclined a friendly bow. “Permit me to introduce myself—or is that a faux pas in English society? I am constantly confusing all your many rules.”
“Let us not stand on ceremony, sir. This is an informal gathering, so we may bend the rules a bit,” said Harriet.
“Your kindness to a stranger is much appreciated, mademoiselle, I am Alphonse de Beaumont.”
Harriet knew his charm was likely as well-practiced as that of Amirault, but it had a more playful ring. She made the requisite responses, and patted the seat beside her.
“Have you been in England long?” she inquired.
“Alas, too long,” he replied mournfully. “My family managed to escape the Terror, and we went to live with relatives in America. But two years ago, I chose to come back to Europe, in hopes of helping to restore the monarchy to France.”
“It must be hard, being an outcast from your home and your heritage,” observed Theo.
Beaumont flashed a sad smile. “ Oui . But there is a glimmer of hope, now that your General Wellington is beating Bonaparte’s armies in the Peninsula.”
“The Little Corsican’s throne is close to toppling,” growled Amirault. “And when it does, order will finally be restored to France.”
“Ah, but the question is whose order,” murmured Beaufort.
So, the two men are at odds? Harriet made careful note of that.
“By the grace of God, it won’t be one espoused by you and your misguided leader,” snapped Amirault.
Beaumont raised a golden brow. “Are you saying God favors your cause above all others? I, for one, wouldn’t dare to presume I have direct contact with Heaven.”
Harriet bit back a smile.
“Yet you presume to mock the ancien regime and all the past centuries of its noble achievements,” retorted Amirault.
“The world is changing. One must change with it.”
“Bah!” Amirault lapsed into a sullen silence for several moments, then once again resumed an air of smug superiority. “Don’t bore the ladies with talk of politics. I’m sure they would much prefer to discuss far more pleasant things.”
“Like the weather?” suggested Harriet.
A glint of amusement lit in Beaumont’s hazel eyes.
Amirault, however, was oblivious to the subtle note of sarcasm. Shooting a triumphant smile at his adversary, he said, “It has been unusually nice for this time of year, has it not?”
He kept up a flow of tedious platitudes, until finally, her plate empty, Harriet set aside her fork and made to rise. “Thank you for your company, but I think Lady Theo and I should?—”
“Head into the drawing room,” finished Amirault smoothly. “Our hostess has arranged for some informal dancing, and knowing how you ladies like to cut a caper, I should be happy to twirl you through the first gavotte.”
Harriet was too surprised to evade his hand.
Darting a nasty look at his countryman, he added, “Beaumont shall be delighted to partner Lady Thalia.”
To his credit, Beaumont rose and announced quite clearly, “Indeed I would, Lady Theo . Would you do me the honor?”
Deciding not to make a scene, Harriet submitted to being escorted to where a swath of carpet had been rolled up to make room for dancing. As the quartet of violins struck up a lively country tune, she spun through the figures, wondering why Amirault had insisted on making a cake of himself. He did not caper well.
Her question was soon answered. At the first pause in the music, as the couples on the dance floor moved to reform the set, he drew her aside and into a paneled alcove displaying a selection of engravings on the flora and fauna of England.
Candles flickered in the wall sconces, painting soft swirls of light over the dark wood. A breeze drifting in through the open leaded glass window tempered the heat of the crowded drawing room. It might have been a pleasant spot... save for the company.
“I must confess, I had not expected to enjoy this evening, but your company has made it most pleasurable, Mademoiselle Farnum.”
“Is that so?”
“Very much so.” His false smile stretched wider, showing a peek of pearly teeth, and for an instant, he looked just like the print of a weasel hanging by his head—a sly predator that relied on stealth and cunning to capture its prey.
Curious as to what he wanted from her, she replied, “Naturally I’m flattered.”
“I have a feeling you understand the world far better than most young ladies, given your father’s position as a diplomat.” Assuming a mournful expression, he looked up at her through his dark fringe of lashes. “ Alors , mademoiselle, I miss conversing with someone who possesses both beauty and an appreciation of the role governments play in keeping society safe from chaos.”
In other words, you wish to pump me for information concerning what negotiations Britain is making with its allies.
Her first reaction was to throw his recent words about ladies and politics back in his face. But the murmur of French reminded her of Jack’s mysterious investigation and the fact that Amirault’s name had been of interest to him.
Harriet drew in a measured breath. That there had been another name mentioned in the note she had found under his chair that afternoon also pricked at her memory. Camille. She couldn’t help but wonder who the lady was and why Jack was so afire to help her vanquish some shadowy threat.
Exhaling a breathy sigh, she with her own false flattery. “Why, Comte Amirault, it is heartening to hear you understand the important role men like my father play in keeping order in these turbulent times.”
“Oh, be assured I have the utmost regard for your esteemed Papa.” He angled his face into the candlelight, no doubt knowing that his finely chiseled features would make many young ladies go a little weak in the knees. “I hope you will permit me to further our acquaintance so that we may discuss such topics of mutual interest.”
Cat and mouse. Harriet gave an inward smile. Let Amirault think he was the one possessing cunning and claws.
“I would like that,” she said demurely. “And now, if you will excuse me, the rules of Polite Society dictate that I ought to return to the other guests.” A smile. “And a lady must be very careful about not breaking the rules.”