Page 53 of Souvenir of Love

“That wasn’t what I meant to say.” Elizabeth flushed, swept by a wave of guilt for what she intended to do.But if it works, she told herself,if things turn out to plan, or even if they turn out very wrong, at least the family will be relieved of the burden my behavior has placed upon them.“It’s been quiet here and I’ve had a great deal of time to think. But it would be nice to spend some time with someone my own age.”

“Alix is not so much older than you,” Rafe reminded her.

It was Louisa, this time, who came to her aid. “Their ages are close, but you must admit,” she said, eyes shifting ever so slightly down to Alix’s hand with its jeweled wedding band, resting on her belly, “their interests have diverged.”

“I suppose,” he said reluctantly.

“Oh, do say yes, Rafe.” Elizabeth reached into her lap and pulled out the letter she’d written and sealed the night before. “I have penned a response in the hopes you might agree. Only say the word, and let me send a footman to catch the mail coach as it passes through town.” She dropped her head slightly and peered up at him with wide eyes. “Please, Rafe?”

His lips twitched.

“Only think of how quiet it will be here without me, Alix by your side, Louisa puttering about the garden. The weather turning warm, the flowers coming into bloom.” She resisted the urge to add,Jervis no longer tasked with following me about.

His lips twitched again. “I know you, Elizabeth Harcrest. You’ve not only written the letter, but prepared the speech, and I wouldn’t be surprised to discover ordered the maids to begin packing your bags.”

“You know me too well,” she confessed, thinking it unwise to tell him her bags were, in fact, already packed. She didn’t expect to need very many things where she was going.

“Indeed, I do,” he said firmly. “Which is why I shall expect regular correspondence from you while you are away.”

“You’re the best brother in the world.” Elizabeth cast a brilliant smile at him as she raised her right hand as if swearing an oath. “And if it’s regular correspondence you require, regular correspondence you shall have.”And a challenge it will be.The first of many, she reminded herself, offering a silent prayer that they’d all be so easily resolved.

She’d need to add a postscript before she sent her letter off to Arabella.

Nineteen

The four men sat playing a desultory game of cards at the table they’d dragged into the center of the upstairs room of the Hart and Hounds. The afternoon sun struggled to make its way through a single diamond-paned window on the far wall. Its rays highlighted the dust that swirled in delicate patterns everywhere, over the two rope beds that were set at angles beneath the window, the nightstand with the chipped pitcher and basin, and the battered desk pushed into a corner of the room. A trunk, several valises, and a medical chest were piled near the door.

David sneezed, breaking the silence. “It’s been three days since you met with the earl. What do you think, Dinsmore, has he had a change of heart?”

“Not Moreham.” James fingered the scar on his cheek. “When Harcrests set themselves to do something, they see it through. He’ll deliver.”

“And if he doesn’t?” David persisted.

“Moreham said Wednesday at the latest; the information will be here today,” he replied with more confidence than he felt. “And if it isn’t, well, then we’ll make do without it. It will be a bitmore of a challenge, but we’ll pull it off.” He smiled. “Consider what we’ve accomplished thus far.”

Andre chuckled. “David’s tumbled the kitchen maid, I’ve won a respectable sum off the crowd downstairs and Marcus”—his eyes settled briefly on the figure across the table—“Marcus has somehow managed to keep his linen immaculate and his hair unruffled. Impressive, really, given he usually has either pen or charcoal in hand.”

“Good hygiene.” Marcus cast a critical glance at Andre’s rumpled stock and unbuttoned waistcoat. “I’d offer you some lessons, but I abhor expending my energies on hopeless causes.”

“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus.” Andre shook his head, loosening several strands of dark hair from his loosely clubbed queue. “What you fail to comprehend is that the ladies can’t resist my style. They take one look at me and are overcome with the urge to clasp me to a nurturing bosom.”

“Which is why, no doubt, after all the time you’ve spent in the taproom, the kitchen maid has been overcome with the urge to sweep our friend David to her nurturing, and, I might add, most generous bosom.”

Andre put down a card. “That is because I did not turn the full force of my attentions upon her.”

“I see.” Marcus studied the card, considering. “Then do tell, my friend, if the object of your attentions has not been the maid, and you emptied the meager pockets of the locals our first evening here, what has kept you so very busy belowstairs?”

“Andre has been spinning tales,” David offered, putting down two cards.

Andre smiled as if accepting a prize. “You would be astonished how many of my new friends have relatives who work in the homes of the quality. Not just locally, mind you, but in London as well. Quite a source of bragging rights, it is. Why, John—the craggy-faced gent with the three fingers, the one whoalways sits at the table nearest the fire—he has a sister whose youngest daughter is a downstairs maid in the London home of Lady Bessborough.”

“Simply riveting,” Marcus said in a voice that suggested the opposite.

“Oh, but it is. It was Dinsmore’s idea.” He nodded approvingly at James. “He suggested that so long as his presence is to be a source of gossip, it might as well be useful gossip. He’s had me putting it about that he’s waiting here, pining with love for the Lady Elizabeth.”

“A tad heavy on the treacle,” James said without looking up from his hand. “But the sort of sugary stuff the gentlefolk belowstairs enjoy.”

“I had ’em licking their bowls clean and begging for more,” Andre agreed. “I told them Dinsmore here had sworn to put aside his rakish ways forever if the lady would have him. He called upon the earl that day to beg forgiveness for his grievous impertinence to the lady and implore His Lordship to grant him the unimagined honor of the lady’s hand in marriage.”