Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
H arriet undid the strings of her bonnet and set it on the side table of Lady Catherine’s entrance foyer. It was a great relief to be back to her normal activities. The last two days had passed in such a helter-pelter that her head was still spinning—several private meetings with the Foreign Office and her father, time spent calming her harried household, and a number of quiet visits from Jack to begin making plans for the wedding...
With a guilty start, she realized she had not yet had a chance to tell Theo about all that had happened at Vauxhall Gardens. It would, of course, have to be a highly edited version. Some of the details would have to remain government secrets. But the state of her own heart was something she was looking forward to sharing with her dear friend.
Turning from the table, Harriet found herself pulled into a subtle hug from Mrs. Currough.
“I am so relieved to see you safe and sound,” murmured the Irish Beauty. “Beaumont told me that all was well, and Leete was kind enough to send around a note the following day—along with a very lovely bracelet. But still, it is good to see for myself that you are unharmed.”
The words were spoken with her usual discretion, however Miss Breville’s ears were still just as sharp as her mind.
“Unharmed?” she repeated loudly. “What sort of dangerous adventures have you been up to, Miss Farnum?”
“Oh, none to speak of,” she replied lightly.
“Just thwarting a cadre of deadly French spies,” drawled Mrs. Currough. “With the help of the dashing Lord Leete and his friend Lord Osborne.”
“ What! ” exclaimed Theo, who had just entered the townhouse, with Miss Ashmun and Mrs. Griffin trailing close behind her.
“How—”
“Where—”
Suddenly all the ladies began talking at once.
Lady Catherine quickly quieted everyone with several sharp raps of the heavy silver pastry platter. “It seems that perhaps we should defer discussion of Mrs. Wollstonecraft’s essay to next week, seeing as no one will pay the least attention until we have heard all the exciting details.”
“I can’t tell you everything,” apologized Harriet. “Certain things must remain confidential.”
“ Sit ,” ordered Theo. “And tell us what you can.”
She dutifully followed her friend to the drawing room and took a seat beside her.
“I knew I should not have cried off from the duc’s party,” said Theo with a sigh. “Was Osborne really involved in the heroics?” she added in a whisper.
Harriet nodded. “He played an integral role in capturing the villains.”
“Oh.” Looking a little crestfallen, Theo plucked at the sash of her gown. “I am not surprised to hear it. I wish...”
“Quiet, please!” called Lady Catherine.
The talking ceased as the members of the group all edged forward expectantly in their chairs.
With that, Harriet was given the signal to begin. “There is not all that much to tell,” she said. “It was mostly going over documents and checking transfer manifests on my part, which really isn’t very dashing or daring...”
“Where are we going?” asked James as he followed Jack down the front steps of White’s and out to the waiting carriage.
“To Covent Gardens.”
“Hells bells, it’s bad enough that your cousin Rafe shops for vegetables and fruits. Don’t tell me you developed a taste for cooking, too?”
“No, I shall leave haute cuisine to him. I have other purchases in mind.”
“What then?”
“You shall see shortly.”
James did not manage to wrangle a more detailed answer during the short ride. Still grumbling, he followed Jack up through a narrow, shadowed passageway and shortly emerged into the bright glare of the market square and its riots of colors, shouts and smells.
“This way,” said Jack, guiding his friend around a display of Seville oranges and marcona almonds. Winding their way through the narrow aisles of produce and kitchenwares, they crossed between the barrows of two meat pie vendors and turned into an area filled with a profusion of fragrant flowers and exotic blooms.
James looked in consternation as Jack halted and fell into negotiations with the proprietor of the largest stall. “Flowers?” he muttered.
“Yes, flowers,” answered Jack. After another short discussion, the merchant began assembling a large bouquet of blooms ranging from buttery yellow and pale peach to coppery orange and burnt crimson.
“Harriet favors those hues,” he murmured. “And for Mrs. Currough, I think we should have a range of blues and violets.”
James made a face. “What the devil makes you say that?”
“Blue complements her hair and eye color,” replied Jack. He waggled a brow. “Surely you are aware that noticing such things pleases a lady. One should also pay attention to what colors she favors in her clothing, as that also provides an excellent hint.”
“Unlike you, I’m not lovestruck enough to care about pleasing a lady,” muttered James. And yet his gaze seemed to stray to the array of cut flowers, which were arranged in groupings of similar hues.
Jack grinned. “Don’t look so green around the gills. The prick of Cupid’s arrow isn’t quite as bad as you think.” Indeed, rather than being a sore, festering wound, the bolt of love had spread a rippling of joy through his being. It had come slowly at first, then crested like a wave as he realized that he couldn’t live without her.
“I shall take your word for it,” retorted James. “I assure you, my hide is far thicker than yours.”
“Ha!” was all he said in reply. Turning back to the merchant, he ordered a number of other bouquets in a variety of cheerful colors.
“What the devil are all those for?” demanded James, who seemed to be growing more uncomfortable by the moment.
“We are about to make a Grand Gesture.” Jack thrust a half dozen of the paper-wrapped flowers into his friend’s arms.
“Ye gods, you expect me to join you in appearing a Grand Fool?”
Tapping at his chin, Jack made a last survey of the fluttering colors. “What hues do you think Theo would like?”
Silence hung in the breeze for several moments before James drew in a deep inhale and grudgingly replied. “A selection of pastels pinks, dotted with a few deeper shades of rose.”
Jack held back a teasing comment as the merchant hurriedly assembled a lovely assortment of the requested colors. After paying for the purchases, he carefully took up the rest of the bundles. “Let’s be off, before all these magnificent blooms wilt.”
“Or before my courage withers on the vine,” muttered James. “Dare I ask where we are taking these?”
“It’s a Grand Surprise.”
Harriet went on haltingly with her story, uncomfortable at being the center of attention. And as the events unfolded, she found herself wincing inwardly on several occasions. In retrospect, she was lucky to have dodged disaster. She had made a number of rash mistakes.
However, the others seemed less critical of her faults.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Lady Catherine when she finished recounting what had happened on the night of the masquerade. “That’s far more exciting than any horrid novel.”
“I daresay I would have swooned on the spot had some murderous French spy abducted me,” chirped Miss Ashmun.
“Like all of our group, you are far too sensible to swoon,” said Harriet decisively. “When faced with danger, you would have kept your wits about you.” She slanted a grateful look at the Irish beauty. “Without Mrs. Currough’s aid, things might not have worked out so well. As usual, she was observant at the party. And because she was clever enough to recall that the pleasure pavilion had been mentioned as a favorite haunt of the French, she was able to lead Lord Leete to the place.”
“Aye,” agreed Mrs. Griffin. “But you were clever too, recognizing the villain’s face from the locket.” She pursed her lips in thought. “So a woman was part of the conspirators.”
Harriet nodded. “One of the leaders, in fact.”
“Well, we all know the female intellect is capable of complex reasoning. But it is a pity to see it put to evil.”
The others all nodded.
Mrs. McNulty had been listening in rapt silence to the story, but now, as the account trailed off, she ventured a gusty sigh. “Yes, it is very sad. Thank goodness you emerged unscathed, Harriet.” Another sigh. “I daresay the same can’t be said for your costume. It’s a shame you didn’t get to appear at the party for just a short while. You looked like a fairytale princess.”
“The damage was quite minor,” Harriet assured her. “A few snags and tears that my maid tells me will be easily mended.”
“I am glad to hear it. Though I can’t imagine you will have much call to wear it in the future.”
“Oh, do describe it to us!” begged Miss Ashmun.
“Words can’t possibly do it justice,” replied Harriet.
The rest of the group tried to mask their disappointment.
“So I shall just wait and let you all see it for yourselves. The Duke of Pierpont wishes to hold a ball in celebration of the upcoming nuptials, and Lord Leete and I have decided to make it a masquerade. And you are all invited.”
A flurry of excited titters ran around the room.
“Surely you can’t mean all ,” murmured Mrs. Currough. “I am considered an impure woman, unwelcome in Polite Society.”
“And despite my fancy French name, to the ton I am a mere laborer who toils in trade,” piped up Mrs. McNulty.
“You are my friends,” said Harriet firmly. “All of you. That is the only thing that matters to me and to Leete.”
Mrs. McNulty’s eyes lit up with a dreamy light. “I shall see a real Mayfair ballroom, all aglitter with sparkling chandeliers and bejeweled ladies?”
“Yes—and you shall sip French champagne and dance until dawn,” said Theo.
“Fancy that,” said the dressmaker in an awed tone. She thought for a moment, then her face wreathed in a beatific smile. “I shall, of course, make costumes for everyone!”
The announcement elicited another round of enthusiasm, causing the decibel level in the room to rise sharply.
“Come, come, let us not all speak at once,” said Lady Catherine, trying to restore some semblance of order. “I suggest we?—”
Her voice was overwhelmed by a commotion at the front door. Much thumping and shuffling ensued. Harriet thought she caught a low oath as well. And then, oddly enough, a tantalizing floral scent suddenly perfumed the air.
She gave an experimental sniff. Yes, definitely flowers.
Catching Lady Catherine’s eye, she raised a brow, but her hostess appeared equally mystified.
The puzzle was quickly resolved as Jack staggered into the room, bearing an armload of gaily-wrapped bouquets. James— was it James? —was right behind him, struggling to repress a bout of sneezing.
Her gaze went back to Jack, whose face was barely visible above the tops of several dusky pink peonies. “Well, um, this is quite a surprise.”
He put all but one of the bouquets down on the side settee. “I wish to thank you and all your friends for being such singularly remarkable females,” he announced loudly.
“It is,” explained James, “a Grand Gesture.”
With a flourishing bow, Jack presented her with the flowers. “I chose the colors for you,” he murmured, dropping to a bended knee so his lips were hovering close to hers. “Reds, russets and bronzes to compliment your glorious hair.”
“I keep telling you my hair is quite unremarkable.”
He smiled. “You know how much I adore arguing with you.”
Harriet couldn’t manage a retort. The beauty of the blooms had her throat too tight for speech.
“I hope you like them,” he said after another heartbeat of silence.
“I—I love them.”
The tentative look in his eyes gave way to a deeper rippling of emotion. “Nothing makes me happier than to hear the word ‘love’ from your lips.”
“In that case, let me say it again.” She lowered her voice to a petal-soft whisper. “I love you.”
A collective sigh seemed to flutter up from those closest to them as Jack rose. He chose one of the other bouquets and gallantly presented it to Mrs. Currough.
“A very small token of my thanks,” he said.
The Irish Beauty dropped a very graceful curtsey. “You,” she murmured, “are a very lucky man.”
“Luckier than I deserve,” he replied.
She regarded him with an appraising stare, then angled a wink at Harriet. “I think luck is equally matched between the two of you.”
Jack’s next bundle of flowers was bestowed on Mrs. McNulty, whose salty humor seemed to desert her on unwrapping the bold blaze of crimson and wine-red roses.
“You are an artist with silk and satin,” he murmured. “You must promise to make Harriet’s wedding dress.”
“Y-You may count on it, milord.”
Theo leaned over to whisper in Harriet’s ear. “I didn’t realize Jack had such a flair for the dramatic.”
“Nor did I,” she answered. A light-hearted inner imp appeared to have banished the shadow-dark inner demon. He seemed happier, more carefree.
Love did make the spirit feel as if it was dancing on a sugar-spun cloud, she mused.
Theo was about to speak again when James shuffled up and awkwardly handed her a bouquet. “These are for you,” he said gruffly. “Harriet is very fortunate to have such a stalwart friend. The two of you were very clever and resourceful to draw out the French villains.”
“You are right—she is the very best of friends,” murmured Harriet as she watched Theo’s cheeks turn the same vivid fuchsia hue as the dahlia crowning her arrangement.
“T-Thank you,” Theo stammered.
“You are welcome,” said James gravely.
“Harriet has told us how wonderfully brave you were in helping to rescue her,” said Theo, recovering her equilibrium. “I thank you for that as well.”
James seemed uncomfortable with the praise. “I did nothing but follow Jack’s plan. Any clodpole could have done it.” A summons from Jack saved him from having to go on. “I had better help with passing out the rest of the bouquets.”
“Flowers for all of us?” exclaimed Miss Breville. She took off her spectacles and polished them on her sleeve before taking a closer look. “They are exquisite. But whatever are they for, sir?”
“For being steadfast friends and kindred spirits,” answered Jack. “I have come to see that the strictures of the ton are awfully confining for a female who is inquisitive and intelligent. And so I am glad Harriet has a group with whom she can speak her mind and discuss ideas that interest her, however radical they may be.”
He fixed Harriet with a look that sent a shiver of heat skating down her spine. “I, on the other hand, am not nearly so admirable as she is. But she makes me want to be better than I think I can be.”
There was a soft rustling of fabric as several members of the group surreptitiously drew out their handkerchiefs.
“You surprise me, sir,” said Lady Catherine, challenging Jack with a show of blunt cynicism. “I had heard you were a superficial fribble. But the gossips seem misinformed.”
He gave a rueful smile. “I surprise myself.”
“Only because you look at yourself in a far harsher light than anyone else does,” said Harriet as she rose and came to loop her arm through his.
“It is quite true that shadows can distort the view,” observed Lady Catherine. “I have a feeling that in the future, you will not often find yourself cast in the shade.”
“The future does look bright,” he said, drawing Harriet closer. As she watched the afternoon sun play off the glass of the diamond-paned windows, she couldn’t help but agree.
The clock chimed the hour, signaling the end of the meeting, and they moved to a quiet spot by the bookshelves as the others gathered up their belongings and headed for the front door.
“Lady Catherine’s neighbors will think she has formed a garden club,” quipped Jack as the last of the members thanked him and left with her bouquet of colorful blooms.
“That was very thoughtful of you,” said Theo, who had lingered behind. “And very romantic. Lord Byron would be green with envy.”
Jack gave a mock shudder. “You may be sure that I will not be penning poetry or any such argy-bargy nonsense.”
“No poetry will be required. But flowers on occasion will be welcome,” said Harriet.
“That I can manage.” He shifted his stance. “Is your carriage waiting?”
She nodded.
“Then perhaps I might ride home with you. There are several things we need to discuss about the wedding plans.”
Harriet still felt at times as if she had been swept up into some enchanted fairytale and her handsome prince might disappear in a puff of smoke at any moment.
But then, Jack’s reassuring warmth in moments such as these would remind her that he was wonderfully real.
“I would like that very much,” she answered.
Turning to James, he called, “My coachman will drop you back at White’s.”
James signaled his assent. “But first, I ought to escort Lady Theo to her carriage. This is not quite as genteel an area as Mayfair.”
Harriet and Jack allowed their friends to leave first, then followed at a more leisurely pace.
“Do you think...” mused Jack, watching the couple turn down one of the side streets.
Harriet thought for a moment. “I am not sure. Theo has yet to unfurl all her new blossoms, and James... well, I am not certain James knows his own heart. I suppose only time will tell.”
“Wise words, as always.” He slipped his arm around her waist, and they crossed the square in companionable silence. On the far side, however, he came to an abrupt halt. “It was here, on this very spot, that our paths first crossed to begin this adventure.”
“It was hardly an auspicious start—you knocked me over.”
“Actually, we argued about who knocked whom.” He chuckled. “Though I think I knew deep down inside that I had fallen head over heels.”
“You took your time in showing it.”
“Well, as to that...” Jack leaned down to brush a swift kiss to her lips. “Good things come to those who wait.”
The devilish twinkle in his eyes made her heart leap. She clasped his hand, entwining her fingers with his.
“I can think of several other aphorisms—including better late than never. However, I shall simply say you are a very good thing indeed.”
“Then kiss me again, my love.”
“I should make you wait.” Harriet smiled. “But I won’t.”