Spinster's Gambit (12 page)

“So suddenly? Surely that is a six month trip, at the least,” he replied, blinking rapidly. Jac rubbed a hand down her breeches and lifted it rapidly, realizing she was trying to straighten her skirts. 

“I’m sorry,” she said instead, deciding not to lie again or make it any more complicated. Jac dug around her memory, trying to think of anything to do with the man.

“Next week, on Friday, before I go, is Beethoven’s Seventh symphony not premiering at the Royal Theater?” 

Aspen’s face cleared in recognition and he smiled easily. 

“I have a seasonal box. There is going to be a crush, I’m sure,” he said and Jac bit her lip, feeling like she’d just invited herself. “Would you like to join me?” he asked and Jac felt her heartbeat pick up in excitement. Beethoven’s Seventh with the duke? It’d be a dream come true. 

“I’d be thrilled,” she replied. 

“Well then, in a valiant second attempt, goodnight,” Aspen replied, his voice light, and Jac did her best to smile until the coach door snapped shut, hiding her in the dim box. One more time, Jac told herself, trying to keep herself steady. The carriage started forward and she leaned over to pull her gown and undergarments from beneath the seat in front of her.

~~//~~

Jac could barely keep herself still for more than five minutes at a time the whole rest of the week. She spent her days wandering from activity to activity, unable to concentrate on her embroidery, piano, or chess. She practiced fencing footwork in her bedroom until her knees wavered, but still she found herself spending every night awake, stretched across her bed to balance her book under the oil lamp on her side table, unable to sleep.

By the time Friday finally dawned she was sure Daniel was beginning to consider throwing her out of the house himself. She spent the day in his study, struggling to finish rereading her copy of
The Merchant of Venice
, unsure how early Daniel was going to drive her to the theater if only to be rid of her fretting. She’d guessed it’d be hours earlier than necessary, so she was not overly surprised when Daniel burst into the room shortly after the sun began to set.

“You must not go tonight,” he panted, leaning into his office with one hand on the doorframe. Jac glanced over his rumpled clothing, wondering where he’d been and why his eyes were so wide. “Mrs. John Clarence is in our drawing room,” he announced as if he were pronouncing their doom. Jac lowered her book to her lap. Mr. Clarence’s widow held the great distinction of being able to insert herself into any household’s routine, wanted or otherwise, at the smallest hint of scandal. Jac groaned, wondering just how badly rumpled she’d been from changing in their coach the day they’d arrived so late to the widow’s soiree. Daniel was right; it was beyond time for this to end if Mrs. John Clarence was starting to get wind of it. The woman would do anything for a story. Jac had heard a rumor that Lady Eleanor had seen the woman in a
tree,
peering into her home, before the Duke of Mariton’s proposal. 

“Tell her I am ill and unable to receive her,” Jac ordered, standing. She had to go to the theater tonight, the risks be damned. She needed this last night to say goodbye.

“Are you mad?” Daniel asked, his eyes wide as he gestured behind him at the hallway beyond, and presumably the
ton
gossip sitting in their drawing room.

“This is the last night before Jack Holcombe leaves for the United States,” she replied. Daniel’s face fell heavily.  He turned to thump his forehead into the hard doorframe, apparently cursing her timing.

“I’ll send her on her way,” Daniel promised, before pointing at her. “One last night,” he ordered and Jac nodded, relieved. “And I’m telling her you have your courses, just in case she has a notion to start a pregnancy scandal simply for the attention,” he said, turning to leave.

“You wouldn’t be able to say that to a lady without hiding your face in your knees,” Jac replied and Daniel turned back.

“Then I shall attempt to be subtle and fail miserably,” he replied, throwing up his hands as he left. Jac groaned and hid her own face in her skirts, amused by his idiocy despite herself. She stayed seated, trying not to let her chair creak at all, and listened for the front door shutting behind their unwelcome guest. Finally she crept out of the office, heading for the upstairs to get changed.

“Come on, Jac!” Daniel hissed, not twenty minutes later, gesturing her down the stairs in front of him. Jac did her best to hurry. At this rate she was risking being tardy. The sun was setting quickly and the house was growing dim. She was starting to get accustomed to a gentleman's breeches and stockings. They were tight about her legs but they did make it easier to rush down a staircase without tripping. 

A sudden creak warned them before they saw a hidden servants’ door push open, not six feet from them at the base of the servants’ stair. It blocked the stairs quite effectively. Daniel flashed her a worried glance, his eyes darting about the stairway though there was truly nowhere to go. Jac backed up a step, hoping to retreat back to the upstairs hallway. They were barely ten feet from Daniel’s bedchambers; surely they could hide in time.

“Oi, an' this dratted door needs oilin',” a maid was saying, calling over her shoulder in the way no well-trained servant should do coming into the family's section of the house. The servant pushed the door closed and started up the stairs toward them. She only got up a step before she spotted them. Jac wanted to close her eyes in humiliation but she needed to know how this servant was going to react.

The maid glanced at Daniel, then at her again, then up the stairs behind them, before coloring hugely. The servant's blush went fully into her hair and she looked down at her feet, her eyes wide.

“Beggin' your pardon, sirs,” she said, turning toward the wall to ignore them as she should have done immediately. 

Sirs? She doesn't recognize me,
Jac realized, breathing a sigh of relief. She started forward, putting a foot down on the next step before she hesitated, wondering why the girl had colored so badly looking up at them and the bedrooms beyond, if she’d thought them two men.

She thinks –
Jac glanced back at Daniel to see the man staring at the ceiling, a blush working all the way into his shirt. 

Oh my Lord.

Daniel continued down the stairs, not saying a word, and sneaked her out into the street to wait for the carriage, same as always. For once Jac had absolutely no idea how Daniel was going to respond. He stopped the carriage for her and Jac climbed inside, watching his expression carefully. Somehow, he was still blushing. 

“My God, this will not take long to get out,” he stated finally when the doors closed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on the cushion. Jac had to suppress a laugh, reminding herself that really, it wasn't funny. 

“On the bright side, maybe the hordes of mothers will stop throwing their girls at you,” she stated quietly. Daniel coughed out a laugh. 

“Of course, they will all know I'm too busy sneaking men into my bedchamber,” he replied, covering his red face with a hand. “How did this happen? I help you fall in love with a man while dressed as one and everyone thinks
I'm
the poof?” 

“I'm not falling -” Jac started before deciding it was irrelevant. 

“Ugly men, too,” he added, looking between his fingers to glance over her outfit. Jac couldn't help it; she giggled. 

“Honestly, Daniel, if you were going to start a scandal, the least you could have done is pick an attractive partner,” she scolded. Daniel groaned and closed his fingers again to cover his eyes. “A soldier perhaps? I hear no end of tittering about a man in uniform,” she added, grinning.

“Do tell me I'm not having this conversation with you,” Daniel moaned again and Jac chuckled. He pulled his hands away from his face to glare at her, but his mouth twitched. 

“A sailor, maybe? You could even marry up, with the fortune to be made at sea,” she stated and Daniel barked out a laugh. 

“I do love the hat,” he replied, pulling a hand up over his hair to mimic the crest. Jac laughed again and Daniel joined her, covering his face with his hands as his chuckle slowly grew into something a bit more hysterical. 

“Oh my Lord,” he sighed, resting his hands on his knees when he calmed. He sobered slowly and sighed and turned to stare out the window, beginning to look genuinely concerned. 

“Surely such a thing will offer nothing more than a short lived amusement for the downstairs servants,” Jac said. Daniel glanced sideways at her.

“Did you recognize the maid?” he asked, his voice stiff and derisive in a way she was not accustomed to hearing from him.  

“No,” she answered, blinking. Surely Daniel did not know every servant’s particular propensity for gossip, she thought, confused.

“Precisely. That was not our maid,” Daniel answered. Jac felt her mouth fall open.

No,
she thought, understanding, her eyes widening.

“Mrs. Clarence left her maid-” she started, scandalized.

“An accident, surely,” Daniel replied wryly, turning back to the window.

“Would you like to end the deception now, then?” Jac asked, dreading turning around to get undressed. Her mind railed against the idea. She needed this last night to say goodbye. She could not leave Aspen waiting for her while she returned home to put on the trappings of a refined spinster. However, she thought, watching Daniel lean his forehead against the glass of the coach window, stepping out into the world in the trousers of a stranger was rapidly beginning to feel selfishly incautious. 

“Bugger it. I'm already openly sodomizing Mr. Jack Holcombe, we might as well reap the benefits of it. Go say goodbye. But next time we start something like this special brand of idiocy, you're sneaking yourself out of the house,” he stated, turning back to point at her accusingly. Jac felt herself smile, relieved at his returned humor, though she knew it was mostly feigned.

“Next time?” she joked, raising an eyebrow, and Daniel banged his forehead on the carriage window.

“Lord forbid, no. We’re finished,” he answered.

CHAPTER SIX

Daniel had been invited to the theater as well but had declined. For her sake, Jac guessed, absurdly grateful to the man.

The carriage pulled up to the curb far from the Royal Theater’s steps and crawled forward in line with the other carriages. Jac kept her nose pressed to the window, knowing for once that her foolishness would not harm her; anyone who saw would judge Mr. Jack Holcombe and he was soon to disappear.

Jac laughed under her breath, spotting the Duke of Aspen. He was standing on the theater's great steps blowing air into his hands. Two beautiful women chattered on either side of him. They wore splendid gowns, their arms bared to the cold. Aspen glanced back and forth between the two, his expression severe. He was horrendously uncomfortable, she thought sympathetically.

“Take care, Jac,” Daniel ordered. She glanced back at him and dropped the curtain from her fingertips, wondering what he’d seen in her expression.

“I know he is not courting me. I’m not a fool. For heaven’s sake, he thinks I’m a man,” she said and Daniel frowned, still looking concerned.

Harold opened the door for her, letting in a chill draft. Jac moved to pull her scarf tighter about her shoulders, only to pause at the touch of her cravat cloth tied about her neck. Harold stepped back, noticing nothing, as always. Jac smiled uncomfortably at him.

“I will return in two hours,” Daniel promised. That did not give much time for loitering about. Jac glanced at him wryly.

“I will survive my foray into independence,” she promised and Daniel sighed.“Go on, then,” Daniel said, his voice heavy. 

Jac smiled, excitement building up in her chest and stepped out onto the dark street. Harold closed the door firmly behind her, already readying to depart. It’d been a cold winter this year, she thought, glancing at the coachman’s blue hands. For once, though, she was not looking forward to the spring and the end of the season.

Aspen’s face cleared into something like relief at the sight of her. Jac berated herself at the way her heart skipped a beat. He thought her a man, a friend, nothing more. The women with him turned, apparently noticing the change in his demeanor. It was the debutante of this season, Miss Faring and Miss Musgrave, the rather limp looking eldest daughter of the Musgrave family. The two women continued to glance through the crowd, apparently bored by him.

“You need not wait for me outside!” she called over the noise of the crowd as she approached him. Miss Faring frowned and Jacoline concentrated on working her way through the crowd, fear jolting through her that they'd somehow recognized her. For once Jac felt fortunate that society had not spent more than five seconds looking at her in the last three years together. Miss Musgrave smiled tightly at her and fluttered away from the Duke of Aspen as Jac grew closer. Miss Faring trailed after her, apparently forgetting to excuse herself from the duke’s company at all. Aspen stood, awkwardly alone on the steps again. Jac frowned, glancing at the two tittering young girls walking off together. Miss Musgrave made a disgusted face at Miss Faring before glancing pointedly at the duke.

Subtle,
Jac thought, watching them. She'd always thought she was seeing women throwing themselves at the duke. He was right in his assessment, apparently. He was not so fawned upon at all. At least not by anyone who had the choice. Aspen smirked slightly and turned to face away from them, not looking surprised.

“We would never find each other inside. Shall we?” he replied, his voice deep and wonderful. Jac got halfway through holding an arm up for him to take and jerked her hand away. She coughed into her palm, trying to hide her mistake. Aspen glanced over at her, an eyebrow raised.

“I am the epitome of grace,” she stated, trying to get accustomed to climbing the overly tall steps without having to wrestle with a formal gown. She could see her own legs, which was endlessly helpful. Still she had to force herself to continue walking up the steps. The opening event was for sponsors and their guests only and Jac felt herself grow nervous at the sight of the grand open doors and the sounds of great chatter inside. Her ears strained for a shout from the crowd within the theater, an old matron or foolish young gentleman jabbing a finger at her and outcrying her fraud. She stayed a step behind Aspen, praying no one would look at her next to the bachelor heir to the Aspen estate.