CHAPTER EIGHT


“THANK YOU FOR joining me, Mrs. Blodgett.” The Earl of Danby shifted in his chair, obviously a bit ill at ease. Gwen suspected his discomfort had nothing to do with the chair.

“Well, when an earl, and one’s host, invites you to join him privately in his library for tea, one does not turn down the invitation as it obviously means one of two things.” Gwen smiled pleasantly.

“Oh?”

“Either he has a matter of importance to discuss or he is interested in something of a more personal nature, in which case he should be set straight immediately.” She paused. “As I am old enough to be your mother, I am assuming the former.”

“Regardless of age, you are an extremely attractive woman, Mrs. Blodgett.”

“I am an extremely married woman, my lord.”

“And I would never...” He grinned. “Well, I would and I have but I won’t.”

She laughed. “Imagine my relief, my lord.”

“Edward, please.”

“Guinevere, or my friends call me Gwen if you prefer.”

“Gwen it is, then.” He considered her for a moment. “I shall be blunt. I think this marriage between my brother and Katherine Bromley is a dreadful mistake.”

“Do you?” She calmly sipped her tea.

“Don’t you?”

Gwen chose her words with care. “I fear the reasons Katherine wishes to marry Henry are more of a mercenary nature than anything having to do with true affection.”

“You see it, too, then.”

“It’s painfully obvious to me.”

He nodded. “For that reason alone I would want to stop this wedding.” He thought for a moment. “You must understand, for all that Henry seems the more sensible and intelligent of the two of us, he is not as—Oh, what’s the word? Wise, I suppose, as I am when it comes to the more unscrupulous tendencies of the fairer sex. I have been pursued by women seeking my title and fortune from the time I was old enough to be considered of marriageable age.” He grinned. “It has not been entirely unpleasant.”

“No, I would imagine it hasn’t.” Gwen bit back a grin. The man was incorrigible.

“But I am far more intelligent than most people assume. I am not one to be swept off my feet by a pretty face more interested in what I am and what I have than who I am. But that comes from experience and I will admit it was a difficult lesson to learn.” He grimaced. “My brother’s experiences with women have been entirely different than my own and he is far more trusting than I am. When it comes to this particular area, Henry is, or rather was, a bit naive.”

“Was?”

“He, too, has now learned his lesson.” Edward blew a resigned breath.

“He doesn’t have to go through with the wedding.” Gwen shrugged. “He can beg off. Certainly, it will create a bit of scandal but surely that’s better than being trapped in a marriage he doesn’t want.”

“My thoughts exactly.” The earl nodded. “However, my brother is a better man than I am. His sense of honor will not permit him to go back on his word. I have no such scruples.” He leaned forward. “I am hoping you will help me find a way to get him out of this, to stop this wedding and save my brother from a lifetime of misery.”

“That’s quite a request, Edward,” she said mildly, resisting the urge to crow with delight. With the earl’s assistance, their plan would be far more likely to succeed. Still... “You said ‘for that alone’ a minute ago—am I to gather there are reasons aside from Katherine’s less-than-noble motives why you wish to stop this wedding?”

He chuckled. “You are a clever creature, Gwen.”

She grinned. “Thank you, Edward.”

“My brother is in love with your niece.”

“Excellent, as my niece is in love with your brother.”

“Any idiot can see it. I can’t believe no one else has noticed. I’ve watched the two of them try not to look at each other since Celia and her family arrived at the manor. It’s best, really, because when they do...” He smiled in an oddly wistful way. If one could feel sorry for a handsome, dashing man with power and position and wealth, one would feel sorry given that smile alone. “Well, I have to admit I am extremely envious. I hope someone will look at me that way someday.”

“I think the rest of the family is too busy counting their chickens, as it were, to see what’s right under their noses. But I noticed, as did my friends.”

“Speaking of your friends...” He frowned. “Are your rooms to your liking? My butler said you and the other ladies requested different rooms and I understand Mrs. Higginbotham sat reading in the hall outside her room all night. She told a footman that she heard rats in the walls. He offered to find her a different room but she refused.”

Gwen hesitated. If they were going to join forces, she should probably be honest with the man. “The rats may not be in the wall, Edward. I believe Katherine may wish to guarantee the wedding proceeds as planned by means of a, oh, scandalous nature.”

“A scandalous nature?” Edward frowned in confusion. “I don’t—” Understanding dawned on his face. “My brother’s room is next to Mrs. Higginbotham’s new room.”

“And next to Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore’s and directly across the hall from mine.” Gwen cast him a satisfied smile.

The earl stared for a long moment. “You are somewhat devious as well as clever, aren’t you?”

“I do try, Edward.”

“I think I’m very lucky you’re married.” Admiration sounded in his voice.

She laughed.

“I can’t have you and your friends guarding Henry’s room all night.” Edward’s brow furrowed. “I could change rooms with my brother.”

“Then you might be the one trapped into marriage.”

“I assure you, better women than Katherine have tried.” He shook his head. “However, whereas scandal has never especially bothered me, I must admit I do find myself more and more inclined to avoid it. Upholding the family name and all. Regardless, I cannot permit you and the other ladies to continue to lose sleep. I shall post a footman at Henry’s door beginning tonight.”

“Oh, and that wouldn’t cause gossip among the servants, would it?” Gwen shook her head. “Far better for them to think that the earl’s guests are a bit odd rather than to so much as suspect the truth. Besides, Mrs. Higginbotham wasn’t there all night. I took a few hours, as did Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore.” She leaned toward him in a confidential manner. “I believe Poppy considers it something of an adventure in pursuit of a worthy cause. I am not inclined to spoil her fun.”

“Very well, then, if you insist. I shall do my part by maintaining a close watch on my brother during the day.” He considered her cautiously. “Aside from keeping Henry out of a situation where he would have no hope at all, I don’t suppose you have any other ideas.”

“One or two, perhaps.”

“I hoped you would.” He grinned. “Please, go on.”

“Well, it seems to me Henry’s sense of honor will never allow him to be the one to beg off from this wedding.”

Edward nodded. “We’ve established that.”

“So Katherine must be the one to call it off.”

Edward snorted. “She’d never do that.”

“Come now, Edward.” Gwen took a serene sip of tea. “Why does Katherine wish to marry Henry in the first place?”

“Social position,” he said promptly. “And his money.”

“Which of the two do you think is more important to her?”

He scoffed. “Money of course.”

“And if she were somehow to become convinced he doesn’t have any?”

“She’d...” He stared at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Remind me never to cross you, Mrs. Blodgett.”

“Goodness, my lord.” Gwen smiled in her most wicked manner. “Wouldn’t that be fun.”


CHAPTER NINE


“I DON’T KNOW why we have to continue to bother with this.” Katherine glowered at the others reflected in the mirror. She stood on an ottoman in the center of a ladies’ parlor that had been given over for their use—although it hadn’t been given so much as it was overtaken. Celia’s family had swept into Danby Manor like an invading army. “I think the dress is quite perfect.”

Katherine’s gaze returned to her reflection and the dress she would wear to marry Henry. It was a beautiful ivory color with tiers of lace-edged satin cascading down the skirt and delicate lace dripping from the sleeves. It was indeed perfect. Aunt Frances was determined to see her oldest niece wed and wed properly. She had managed to find a seamstress in London who could create something exquisite in a matter of days, as no less than exquisite would do for Katherine. It had struck Celia as something of a miracle, but then Louise had confided to Celia that the gown had originally been made for another bride who no longer needed it, which did explain how Aunt Frances had been able to procure a dress of such excellent quality and fine detail so quickly. It was apparently something of a bargain, as well. Still, it was far nicer than anything any of them had ever had.

Katherine knew nothing of this and was vain enough not to realize there was a reason why the fit needed adjusting. Aunt Frances had been fussing with it ever since they arrived at Danby and had quite happily turned the entire matter over to Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore and Mrs. Higginbotham, who were both quite skilled with a needle. Which worked out rather well as Aunt Guinevere had told Celia that Katherine was not to be out of sight for so much as a moment. She hadn’t explained why but it was apparently part of the ladies’ plan to rescue Henry. In spite of Celia’s newfound resolve to assist in whatever they had in mind, Aunt Guinevere had said that, on further consideration, it might be best if Celia didn’t know the details of their plan. When they had one, she’d added, which was not at all encouraging.

Katherine smiled smugly. “And I look quite perfect in it.”

Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore and Mrs. Higginbotham exchanged glances but then they were not as used to Katherine as Celia, Louise and Aunt Frances were. Aunt Frances studied her niece with a worried expression while Louise lounged in a chaise paging through a lady’s magazine.

“Perhaps,” Aunt Frances said. “But I’m not entirely certain.”

“I think it still needs work,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said firmly. She knelt on the floor adjusting the hem of the dress. “The fit and the length are not yet right.”

“I think the fit is just fine.” Katherine huffed.

“You do look wonderful, Katherine,” Celia said helpfully.

“No one asked for your opinion, nor does anyone want it,” Katherine snapped. “And I’m tired of standing here.”

“You do want to look your best, Katherine,” Aunt Frances said. “One must make sacrifices.”

“Indeed one must.” Mrs. Higginbotham fiddled with the waist of the dress. “Why, I can see where it needs just a bit more taking in. You have such a lovely figure, it would be a shame not to show it off to best advantage.”

Katherine preened.

“Yes, I see a problem right here.” Mrs. Higginbotham pinched a bit of the fabric on the seam joining the skirt and the bodice.

“Ouch.” Katherine glared. “You pinched me!”

Louise coughed back a laugh. One thing Celia could say about Louise was that while she had never particularly liked Celia, she didn’t seem overly fond of Katherine, either.

Mrs. Higginbotham ignored her. “Hand me a pin, Poppy.”

“Now you’re going to stick me!” Katherine cried.

“Not unless you move,” Mrs. Higginbotham muttered. “I cannot be responsible if you move.”

“Well, it’s hard to stand here and not move when you insist on poking me and tugging me and—Ouch!” Katherine glared at Mrs. Higginbotham. “You did that on purpose!”

“I told you not to move.” Mrs. Higginbotham glared back but the tiniest gleam of satisfaction shone in her eyes. Celia would have wagered she did indeed stab Katherine deliberately.

“Now, now, Katherine,” Aunt Frances said in a consoling manner. “I’m certain it was nothing more than an accident. Why, Mrs. Higginbotham and Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore have been most generous with their time and skill and we are extremely grateful.”

Katherine shrugged.

“I would imagine the sister-in-law of an earl would be gracious, as well,” Louise said under her breath and turned a page of her magazine.

One could almost see Katherine transform at her sister’s comment. For a moment, she was every bit as beautiful as she thought she was. She cast Mrs. Higginbotham her most charming, and well-rehearsed, smile. “My apologies, Mrs. Higginbotham, and to you as well, Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore. I am terribly sorry for my behavior. I fear I grow a little on edge as the wedding approaches.” She heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “It’s all so overwhelming, being the bride and the center of attention.”

“Understandable, dear,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said in a brisk manner. “One is always a bit apprehensive when one is about to plight one’s troth with the man of one’s dreams.”