Katherine cast her a quizzical look.

“Mr. Saunders?” Mrs. Higginbotham said pointedly.

“Henry,” Celia prompted.

Katherine shot her a hard look. “Yes, I know. Dear, dear Henry.”

“There are few things more nerve-racking than to be about to shackle one’s life to a man’s for the rest of one’s days. It’s such an enormous, irrevocable step,” Mrs. Higginbotham said. “After all, marriage is forever.”

Katherine smiled weakly.

“There are few things I like better than seeing two people in love vow to be together until death. It’s so terribly romantic.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore released a heartfelt sigh. “They say one can’t live on love alone but I’m certain you’ll manage.” She slanted a sly look at Mrs. Higginbotham.

“Yes, indeed.” Mrs. Higginbotham nodded. “There is nothing more admirable than two people who cast aside all thoughts of practicality, especially when it comes to finances, and marry for nothing more than affection.”

“Well, yes, but Henry does have a substantial fortune,” Katherine said smugly. “And he is his brother’s heir.”

“Yes, of course.” Mrs. Higginbotham shrugged. “I had simply heard that Mr. Saunders—”

“Effie!” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore snapped. “That’s nothing more than gossip and I thought we agreed it would be best to keep it to ourselves.”

“What kind of gossip?” Katherine’s brow furrowed.

“Nothing to worry yourself about,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said in an offhand manner. “I doubt that any of it is true.” She paused. “Probably.”

“Really, Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore,” Aunt Frances began, “if you have heard something about Mr. Saunders, I think we should know what it is.”

“Oh, yes, do tell,” Louise said.

What on earth was this about? Celia glanced from one of her aunt’s friends to the other. It was Celia’s understanding—as well as that of her family—that Henry and his brother were both quite well situated financially. It didn’t matter to Celia if Henry had money or not but it would certainly matter a great deal to everyone else.

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. Higginbotham said firmly. “Poppy is right. It’s not our place to say anything and who knows if the rumors are true.”

“Besides,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore added, “tittle-tattle about bad investments or massive debt or ill-advised speculation or insolvency really must be taken with a grain of salt.”

Katherine’s eyes widened. “Insolvency?”

“Not everyone is good at managing money.” Mrs. Higginbotham pinched another bit of fabric. Katherine didn’t so much as flinch. “Oh dear, I am sorry. Did I pinch you again?”

Katherine ignored her. “What did you mean about bad investments and massive debt?”

“Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore looked up at her with a pleasant smile. “And you do have a dowry, don’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Rather meager, really,” Louise murmured, turning another page. “For the sister-in-law of an earl.”

Mrs. Higginbotham frowned. “It’s not significant, then?”

“It’s, oh, modest,” Celia said. “Our grandfather had it set aside for us.”

“I’m certain any financial difficulties Mr. Saunders may be experiencing would be alleviated by the earl,” Aunt Frances said staunchly.

“Ah, yes, the earl.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore exchanged knowing glances with her friend.

Katherine’s gaze shifted from one lady to the other. “What do you mean—‘ah, yes, the earl’?”

“If you don’t stay still, I shall stick you again.” The threat rang in Mrs. Higginbotham’s voice.

“I demand to know what the two of you have heard.” Katherine glared. “I have the right to know. I am marrying into the family, after all.”

“And I refuse to spread idle rumors that probably aren’t true.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore rose to her feet.

“Do you really think so?” Celia asked. If indeed Henry didn’t have a fortune and his brother had financial problems, Katherine might well decide not to marry him. Henry would no doubt be fine without money—he was competent and intelligent and could certainly make his own way in the world—but Edward wouldn’t do at all well. Charming and handsome were not really marketable qualities. Poor man.

“Goodness, dear, there’s always a grain of truth in any rumor but I certainly wouldn’t worry about your sister’s future.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore smiled at Katherine. “She is about to marry the man she loves, after all. Money is insignificant in comparison to that.”

“Still, it is nice...” Katherine said more to herself than the others.

“Nice but not nearly as important as affection,” Mrs. Higginbotham said. “Even a substantial fortune will not keep you warm at night.”

Aunt Frances gasped. “Mrs. Higginbotham! I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head.”

“Miss Quince.” Mrs. Higginbotham’s eyes narrowed.

Celia winced. Louise looked up from her magazine. Katherine continued to study herself in the mirror, her brow furrowed in thought.

“If you have concerns about anything I might say,” Mrs. Higginbotham began, “perhaps it would be best if I took my leave and left you to finish the difficult task of attempting to fit a dress obviously made for someone else to your niece’s specific measurements.”

Aunt Frances paled.

“What do you mean—not made for my measurements?” Katherine asked, her frown deepening.

“Nothing, dear,” Aunt Frances said quickly. “The seamstress was...um...um... French, I believe. Which is why there are a few problems with the gown.” She lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “Her grasp of the English language was not as good as one would hope it would be.”

Celia stared. Aunt Frances was far quicker and much more clever than Celia had ever realized. If Aunt Guinevere and her friends were going to stop this wedding, Katherine might not be their biggest obstacle.

“Furthermore,” Mrs. Higginbotham continued, “if your nieces are not aware of the more intimate aspects of marriage—”

“Effie,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore warned.

“—then you have obviously failed in your duties,” Mrs. Higginbotham finished in a lofty manner.

Aunt Frances clasped her hands together. “My nieces know everything it is appropriate for them to know as properly bred young ladies.”

“Then I would say it’s going to be a most interesting wedding night,” Mrs. Higginbotham said under her breath.

Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore groaned. Louise snorted back a laugh.

“Mrs. Higginbotham!” Aunt Frances snapped.

“Yes, Miss Quince?” Mrs. Higginbotham asked.

Aunt Frances stared at her then drew in a deep breath. “While your candid manner of speech is not entirely my preference, your sewing skills are exceptional. This gown is far beyond my own meager abilities. I would be grateful if you—and Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore of course—would continue to work your...magic to make Katherine’s dress as perfect as it can possibly be.” She summoned a tight smile. It obviously wasn’t easy for her. “Most grateful.”

“Why, I can’t think of anything we’d rather do than to help make Katherine’s wedding everything she’s ever wanted.” Mrs. Higginbotham smiled in an overly pleasant manner. “And all that she deserves.”






Day Four


CHAPTER TEN


“YOU WANT ME to do what?” Gwen stared at the earl.

Edward chuckled. “You needn’t look at me as if I’ve lost my mind.”

“You’re asking me to hide in a cupboard.” What was the man thinking? “Rational people do not usually ask others to hide in a cupboard. Besides, I am already dressed for the ball—”

“And might I say you look lovely tonight.”

She ignored him. “Guests will soon be arriving and I still have a few things to take care of. Miss Quince has decided her participation is no longer necessary, so everything has fallen to me and my dear friends, who may never forgive me. Organizing balls and weddings in a grand house with a staff of dozens is not something we do routinely, you know. It has been an exceptionally long and busy day. Myriad details still need to be attended to and I don’t have time for nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense and I’m not asking you to hide in a cupboard,” Edward said patiently. “You’re absolutely right, that would be mad.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes. “Then what are you asking?”

“I have not explained this well.” Edward strode across the library to the door concealed in the paneling he had indicated a moment ago. He pulled it open with a flourish. “As you can see, it’s not a cupboard. This is my private office and it is substantially bigger than a cupboard.”

She peered around him. It was not as large as the library but was a good-sized room. A door on the far wall probably led to the hall or another room.

“Very well, it’s not a cupboard.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you’re right, you have not explained this at all well.”

“My apologies.” He grinned. “It’s not often I participate in subterfuge and clandestine endeavors. I find it rather exciting.” He grimaced. “Which means my life has become extraordinarily dull of late.”

“Would you please tell me what you are talking about?” Gwen hadn’t stamped her foot in frustration since her girlhood but it was hard to resist doing so now.

“All I’m suggesting is that you stand in the office, on the other side of the door, which we will leave open a crack, so that you may hear what transpires.”

“What is going to transpire and why do you want me to hear it?”

“Because it’s your brilliant idea.” He beamed.

“Which brilliant idea is that?” The day had been filled with countless minor difficulties. And each and every one did seem to require a solution that was at least clever if not brilliant.

“Why, convincing Katherine that Henry and I are on the brink of destitution so that she will call off the wedding of course.”

“Oh, that brilliant idea.” Gwen couldn’t resist a smug smile. It was rather brilliant at that.

Effie and Poppy had begun what Effie insisted on calling a campaign yesterday by subtly mentioning gossip about Edward and Henry’s financial instability. Today, as they decorated the ballroom, continued to fit Katherine’s wedding dress, discussed the menu for the wedding breakfast with the cook, arranged flowers and dealt with endless tiny details, all three ladies refused to speak further of rumors or gossip or innuendo. That in spite of pleas from Miss Quince and Katherine. Gwen thought it best not to tell Celia the truth about the alleged gossip. For one thing, she wasn’t sure her niece was devious enough to carry on the charade. And for another, if Celia truly loved Henry, his fortune—or lack of it—would make no difference. Or at least it shouldn’t. Far better to find out now if it did.

It was really quite amazing how very much could be said by saying hardly anything at all. And Gwen, Effie and Poppy’s efforts were beginning to bear fruit. Miss Quince had a decidedly pinched look of worry about her and Katherine seemed at once preoccupied, concerned and annoyed. Which no doubt explained her fouler than usual mood and tendency to bite the head off all who came near her. Of course, Gwen and her friends were becoming a bit testy themselves. Spending part of every night in a chair in a corridor apparently did that to a person.

“And I am about to do my part. As I do think it will be a riveting performance—” he ushered her into the office “—I should like an audience of at least one. The play’s the thing, you know, Gwen.”

“I wouldn’t quote Hamlet, Edward. He did not end well.” She stepped over the threshold and into the office. “Do you really think this is necessary?”

“My dear Gwen, it’s not only necessary.” He cast her a wicked grin. “It’s going to be fun.”

“Oh, well, as long as it’s going to be fun.” She bit back a smile.

“You may sound chastising all you wish, but I would wager you are going to enjoy it.”

“I’ll enjoy it more if it works.” She turned toward him. “Do you care to tell me exactly what you are planning?”

“Absolutely not. I think it would be best if you were surprised.” He pulled the door closed, leaving it open no more than a crack. “And impressed.”

She heard him move away from the door and settle in the chair behind his desk that creaked when he sat down. She waited for what was surely an hour but perhaps was less than a minute.

“When do you expect whatever this is to occur?” she called.

“Anytime now,” he said in a normal tone.

She paused. “You’re right. I can hear very well in here.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

He cleared his throat. “You’re not the first person to have hidden there.”

“I see.” And wasn’t that an interesting story? She waited another eternity then called again, “I should warn you, I intend to spread rumors about your finances at the ball tonight.”