Page 86 of A Dangerous Engagement

“That is only seven days away,” someone said.

“Yes, so we must get word to everyone else. I don’t trust the post, so I am sending you all as messengers to inform the others. We will have to make haste, but we are ready, are we not?”

Voices rang in agreement.

Lady Blackstone began telling each man where she wanted him to go to spread the news of the date. Their voices were quite animated as the plans they had been making were finally about to come to fruition.

Felicity turned and carefully hurried back to where Aunt Agnes sat engrossed in a book.

“Auntie,” she said quietly, “is Mr.Birtwistle supposed to call on us again today?”

“Why, yes. And I have his book here that I promised to return today.”

“I need to put a new note inside. May I have it?”

“Of course, but he will be here soon.”

“I shall bring it back presently.” Felicity carried the book up to her room.

She hastily grabbed a sheet of paper and used the edge of her desk to help her tear it in half and then again in fourths. On one she wrote,Please get word to Mr.McDowell at the Home Office that the plan has been moved up to 26 April. It is urgent.

Felicity folded the paper and stuck it inside Mr.Birtwistle’s book and carried it back downstairs.

She handed the book to Aunt Agnes, who nodded.

Felicity could only hope Mr.Birtwistle understood by now what was at stake. No doubt he had been shocked to get their first note on Sunday. Had he sent the papers to Mr.McDowell by post? Had he gone to London himself? Or, as she thought most likely, had he given the papers to the magistrate, who then took them to Mr.McDowell and his superiors at the Home Office?

There was no way to know, but as the two days had passed, she’d had to ask God to take care of it for her, because the burden of worrying about it was too heavy. Besides, she had done everything she could.

They sat in silence for a while longer, and then the servant announced Mr.Birtwistle. Lady Blackstone must have intercepted him in the corridor, because she heard that lady say, “How good of you to visit us again. Did Miss Mayson and Miss Appleby inform you of my ill health on Sunday?”

“They did indeed, my lady,” Mr.Birtwistle replied, his voice sounding rather shaky. Would he give them away?

“Well, I am much better now, as you can most likely see.”

“Oh yes, quite.”

They arrived in the doorway of the drawing room. Aunt Agnes had closed her book and was smiling up at Mr.Birtwistle. If that man only knew how infrequent it was for her to close her book for anyone, or for her to wait in anticipation of a visitor.

Lady Blackstone entered the room with him, and they both sat.

“Mr.Birtwistle, we are delighted to see you again.” But Lady Blackstone’s eyes had a certain hardness about them, and her lips were decidedly straight—not a hint of a smile. And she seemed to emphasize the wordagain.

“Why, thank you, Lady Blackstone. I was on my way to call on some other sick parishioners, and I thought I would call on you first, since you are nearest to the parsonage.”

“I am quite well now, thank you.”

She was giving the rector such a hard, direct look, he seemed to squirm a bit in his chair, but then he turned to Aunt Agnes.

“Have you been well, Miss Appleby?”

“Oh yes, quite well. My dear niece and I have been able to take walks in the garden every morning, and we enjoy reading. And I have just finished reading this book you loaned me.”

Aunt Agnes held up the book.

“Oh yes. And did you enjoy it?”

“Very much. You have excellent taste in books, sir. I have never thought I would enjoy a book of essays, and though I cannot get through them as quickly as I can a novel, I did enjoy it.”