The Fashionable Spy (8 page)

“Well, I told him that just because I am an orphan he was not free to do as he liked. My family will protect me, and I may call upon friends if necessary in Geoffrey’s absence. And he called me a little termagant,” she recalled, pressing her lips together in annoyance.

“Oh, dear,” Julia murmured, exchanging a look of amusement with Victoria.

“And then, do you know what he had the audacity to tell me? That he does not give up easily. He intends to continue his unwelcome pursuit, even though he can plainly see I do not care one jot for him. Oh, such an obnoxious man.” Elizabeth took another sip of tea.

“He is totally ineligible, most likely as homely as a mud fence, and possessing the manners of an encroaching toad, no doubt,” Victoria suggested gently.

“Gracious, no!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “He is tall and slender, quite handsome—if you like a man with brown hair that has a tendency to flop over his brow. Those hazel eyes tease more than not, and it seems he intends to bedevil me with his presence—unless I see him first,” she added thoughtfully.

“Rag-mannered, then?” Julia said in her quiet way, quite in the same method Victoria used for obtaining information.

“No,” Elizabeth admitted, “he has charming manners, far too charming for the good of a young woman. Although he does have a tendency to laugh at me, and I believe he just likes to tease, nothing more.”

“Elizabeth Dancy, if you do not reveal the name of this paragon, I shall be tempted to throttle you at once,” Victoria declared.

“I thought I told you,” Elizabeth murmured much as Julia had earlier. “He is David, Lord Leighton—you know. Viscount Leighton, son of the Earl of Crompton. I recall Aunt Bel talking about him once, and it seems he was as much a rake as his son is now.”

“Oh, dear,” Victoria muttered. It appeared to her that whether she admitted it or not, Elizabeth had become fascinated with a highly eligible rake. Did such behavior run in the family, then? First, Julia and Lord Temple, for it was clear that he charmed her. Then, the attraction Victoria felt toward Sir Edward that was utterly foolish. It appeared the Dancy girls were doomed to disappointment ... or were they? She rose to go to her room, for it was time to prepare for their early dinner. She would share her news with them at that time.

* * * *

“You cannot fathom how surprised I was when Sir Edward offered to purchase a new chaise for the family,” Victoria revealed after the three assembled in the dining room.

“The old one is surely not all that terrible, is it? Not that I have examined it closely, mind you. But if Sam could drive it home ...” Julia paused in the act of sipping the last of her soup.

“All I can tell you is that Sam informed me that he’d not take us on any bumpy roads until either it had been rebuilt or we bought a new one. And you know what the rural roads are like.” She exchanged knowing glances with Julia.

“I see. I expect it might be as costly to rebuild as to have new,” Julia speculated. She placed her soup spoon down while eyeing the remove of turbot with shrimp sauce brought to her side.

“I wish I was able to travel about as you do. I’d even welcome a visit to Aunt Bel,” Elizabeth inserted in the subsequent pause. “All
I
get to do is sit at my table and draw money. Counterfeiter! That sounds utterly horrid. I just hope that I am able to obtain a commission for a series of engravings of ‘Life Along the Thames’ or a similar subject.’’ She sighed before attacking her turbot.

“Why do you not take time to drive to the park and do a bit of sketching? Perhaps you could drive out to Richmond and draw a scene of the Thames from there? It is such a lovely view,” Julia encouraged her.

The adorable pout fled from Elizabeth’s pretty mouth and she grinned with pleasure. “Would one of you be able to go with me tomorrow?”

“Oh, dear, I have to be at the foundry in the morning, and then meet with Sir Edward in the afternoon.” Victoria popped a morsel of roast chicken in her mouth, then turned to Julia.

In her soft sweet voice Julia replied, “Much as I would adore taking the girls along and making a day of it, I had better get on with my work. I wish to transfer the sketch of Viscount Temple to the ivory. He approved the size of the piece I had brought with me, so that it is all set to begin.” She gave Elizabeth a sympathetic look, then offered, “Perhaps later in the week, if this lovely weather holds?”

Somewhat mollified, Elizabeth gave a gusty sigh, then turned the subject. “What are we going to see at the theater tonight? Something educational, I suppose. Opera, perhaps?” She grimaced. “I do not care for the screaming of the singers in the least. Music is most definitely not one of my interests. I much prefer a good comedy.”

Victoria chuckled. They all agreed Elizabeth had a tin ear. “No, dear. No opera. Although I should think you would enjoy the costumes.”

“Not enough to compensate for all that squawking. Stuff and nonsense, the lot of it.” Elizabeth speared another piece of her favorite vegetable, freshly picked asparagus. They ate in silence for a time, then Elizabeth inquired, “What about the coach? Will you ask for an aquamarine interior? I thought the one Mrs. Biddlesby has worth emulating, as I believe I mentioned to you once.”

Her hopeful gaze pleaded with Victoria. Since each of the girls had eyes that reflected green as well as blue, Victoria considered this might be an interesting scheme. She suffered a twinge of embarrassment at accepting such an expensive gift, but she also desired to see Sir Edward again, and that had easily won out over her scruples.

“Do you know, I believe that might be a good idea. Do you have any suggestions, Julia?”

“Only that it be as comfortable as possible. Pockets to hold books for the children might be a nice addition. They do so love to bring things along when we travel, and little items tend to get lost so easily.”

“How did your meeting with Lord Temple go?” Elizabeth studied her sister while the rhubarb tart was placed on the table after the remains of the chicken had been removed.

“Well,” Julia said hesitantly, “he seems quite nice. He wishes the painting for his mother. Is that not commendable?” Her gentle smile curved sweet lips, her eyes misty with admiration for so good a man.

“And you believed him?” Elizabeth cried. She made a rather rude sound, then subsided before her sisters could scold.

“Elizabeth has a point. People are not always what they seem.” Victoria spooned a dollop of custard over her rhubarb tart. “Do exercise care, my dear.”

“Ha,” murmured Elizabeth. At her sister’s look of inquiry, she added, “Well, Julia is a widow;
she
ought to be able to handle gentlemen.”

Victoria gave her younger sister a sharp glance. “I would insist upon an explanation regarding that remark were we not pressed for time. Hurry, so we shall not be late. I detest the throng of people in the entry to the theater. Regardless of what the
ton
does, I think it far better to arrive with time to spare so one can settle comfortably before the production begins. And by the way, Elizabeth, there will be a farce this evening. That ought to please you well enough.”

Elizabeth said nothing in reply, but looked relieved.

The girls strolled to the entry to accept their cloaks from Evenson with their charming grace.

“Well, I shall instruct the carriage builder to use aquamarine in the interior,” Victoria announced while they bumped along to Drury Lane. “I believe Elizabeth has the right of it, that color would be lovely.” She sat back, then exclaimed softly, pulling a folded paper from her beaded reticule. “Oh, a letter came for you, Elizabeth. Here, you may read it now, if the light is sufficient.”

Elizabeth opened the letter, her cheeks tinting an interesting shade of pink as she scanned its contents, then tucked it deep in her reticule. “Just an invitation to drive with a friend,” she murmured.

Victoria knew of no friend who would bring a blush to her sister’s face, yet she said nothing, trusting Elizabeth to use her common sense. She might have a tin ear, but she was uncommonly practical.

Chapter 5

All three young women remained oddly silent on the drive to the theater. Tickets had been most difficult to obtain. The gothic drama
De Montfort
might have been around for years, but it was still enjoyed, all the more for being a favorite. It was doubtful that any of the three was thinking of the tragedy that was to befall the hero.

Elizabeth gave a furtive glance about them as she exited the carriage, then relaxed.

“Come, do let us hurry to our box,” Victoria urged.

Even though it was early, there were many people filtering into the theater, particularly those who could not afford the luxury of a box and had to sit in the pit on hard benches. They sought a good spot, in hopes of seeing and hearing something of the play.

“I, as well, do not care to be pushed about in a horde of people,” Julia added. “Were it not for the obvious, that more patrons are to be found in London than elsewhere, I should prefer to enjoy a quiet life in the country.”

Flashing her a look of concern, Victoria replied, “Why do we not visit Aunt Bel after the Season is over? When nearly all of the
ton
leave Town, there are few commissions for any of us. Perhaps by then the war office will have less need for our talents.” She gave Julia a hopeful look, then observed the calculating expression on Elizabeth’s face.

“What is it, Elizabeth? I know that look all too well.” She opened the door to their box and fixed a steely look on her sister as she sidled past her.

“Nothing, really. It merely occurred to me that if one wished to avoid seeing another, the country would be an excellent place to retreat. That is, if one were wishing to avoid another person, which I am not necessarily wishing to do, that is.” Elizabeth gave her sisters an airy smile after this confusing speech, and settled in her chair to watch in apparent fascination as the crowd gradually filled the theater.

Behind her, Victoria and Julia exchanged bewildered looks. “What on earth do you suppose she meant by that peculiar bit of nonsense?” Victoria whispered to Julia.

“Heaven only knows,” Julia whispered in return from behind a large fan painted with delicate yellow roses. The fan was a particular favorite of hers, coming from an unknown admirer. Tonight she elected to wear a silk gown the identical yellow, with a dainty matching satin hat on her head. Elizabeth had declared that Julia looked like a buttercup and Victoria had agreed that she did.

Elizabeth wore her favored aquamarine in a soft mull with rows of fine lace, while Victoria had dressed herself in a flattering shade of melon, and thought the gown, with its panel of delicate embroidery down the front, most becoming.

It was sometime later that Victoria caught sight of a now-familiar face almost directly across from her, one tier below, and in a slightly better location.

“There he is, Julia,” she whispered as she nudged her sister with her fan. “Second box over and down one. He is the one who collided with our chaise, and now has generously offered to replace it.”

“I dared not peek when he visited the house, but what a handsome man, as well, Vicky. And you say nothing happened? What a pity.” Julia twinkled an amused look at her sister.

“What are you two whispering about?” Elizabeth demanded to know in a quiet voice.

Julia explained, quite discreet behind her painted roses.

“Well, I never,” breathed Elizabeth as she studied the man she had dubbed the Dull One. “He scarcely fits the image you gave us. I thought him to be much older, and far less good-looking. Why, my dear sister, you have been hiding things from us.”

Victoria swallowed carefully and smiled as though nothing were amiss. If her dear sisters knew the extent of Sir Edward’s actions, they would be in his box demanding he wed Victoria, their fans pointed at his head like two pistols.

The interval relieved the necessity for whispers, and Julia leaned back in her chair, a bemused look on her face. “I must say, this is a fatiguing drama—all that melancholy sighing and agony of mind. I find it hard to believe that anyone could stand about to deliver such a long speech in the midst of terrifying apparitions. I would flee for my life!”

“Julia,” scolded Elizabeth, her eyes crinkling with mirth, “you simply do not understand. He is expressing the deep passion of hatred.”

“Oh, pooh.”

Then Elizabeth fell silent as she caught sight of someone not seen earlier.

“What has turned you to stone, Lizzie?”

She absently replied, “You know how I dislike to be called that. I just saw someone I could learn to hate, that is all.”

“Goodness, if you harbor such emotion, be forewarned that hate sometimes turns to love,” Victoria teased her.

Elizabeth gave her a smug look. “Not in this case.” Then she looked around again, and inquired of Julia, “Who is that interesting man who keeps staring at our box? He is next to Victoria’s gentleman of the chaise. Sir Edward.”

“That,” a disconcerted Julia observed, “is the man whose eye I am to paint.”

Giggling, Elizabeth said, “I wonder how you will feel to be so near to a stranger, and such a handsome one at that. For you must know that you cannot paint an
eye
from a great distance.” She peered closely at her sister from about a foot away, raising expressive brows. “My, this could prove to be very intriguing.”

Further speculation was cut off when the door to their box opened, admitting none other than Lord Leighton.

Elizabeth had tilted her pretty nose in the air when the door opened again. Sir Edward appeared, followed by Mr. Padbury. He was a plump man past his prime, but still most agreeable company.

Julia rose to greet the men, her knowledge of the
ton
coming to her aid. “Lord Leighton, how nice to see you. And you, Sir Edward. And here is our good friend Mr. Padbury. Won’t you join us?” Since all three gentlemen were ones who got about Town, there was scarcely any need to make introductions.

Elizabeth glared at her sister, then edged away from them all, a polite smile freezing on her face. She knew better than to turn her back on their callers.