Page 29 of The Wallflower Ruse

Lucinda said not another word until they were safely in the carriage. Even then she had to press her lips firmly together for a minute before she could bring herself to speak. She mustn’t allow Restive to rile her so easily.

“Am I to assume,” she said languidly, “that you want me to go to Lady Tollister’s because there may be more seditious discussions there?”

“No,” he said, “I don’t want you to go there at all. It’s entirely unsuitable for an innocent young lady.”

“Then why did you force Lady Alice to accept his invitation?”

“He didn’t force me, dear,” Lady Alice said, “but we have worked together before. I knew what he wanted me to do. Whether or not you attend is entirely another matter. I’m not sure I agree with Restive, but we shall discuss that later.”

“I see,” Lucinda said, although she didn’t, nor did she appreciate being treated as if she were a child with no ability to make her own decisions.

On the other hand, she knew nothing about espionage, so in all fairness she must assume they knew better.

After a while, she asked, “I don’t know what to think of Mr. Pearce. Does he fall madly in love with every lady he meets?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen,” Lady Alice said. “He appreciates a pretty woman and can be quite flowery in his compliments—he wrote a few charming poems to Miss Collins’s eyelashes and eyes—but I’ve never seen him fall in love at first sight before.”

“You didn’t see that tonight, either,” Restive said.

“Whatever do you mean?” Lady Alice asked.

“He didn’t fall in love with Miss Belair. He pretended to.”

“How can you possibly know that?” Lady Alice demanded.

“Because she’s not the sort of girl men fall instantly in love with.”

“Algernon Restive! What a horrid, unkind thing to say,” Lady Alice said. “I’m ashamed of you. Apologize at once!”

“Why? It’s the truth. Miss Belair is a pretty girl, but she’s not the sort men salivate over right from the start. She’s not a diamond of the first water, nor is she seductive.”

“Perfectly true, thank God,” Lucinda said, “for beauty is a handicap, whereas prettiness is tolerable, as one may be appreciated for more than physical attractiveness—such as one’s intellect.” Recalling the poem, she couldn’t help but chuckle, although she was still annoyed at Restive. “As for seductive, it sounds disturbing to me.”

“Often it is,” Restive said, adding pensively to his aunt, “Miss Belair is the sort who grows on a fellow.”

“Is that so.” Lady Alice sounded surprised—no wonder, as it was almost a kind remark.

“Indeed. It was obvious Pearce was putting on an act,” he said.

“Then why was he so insistent on seeing me again?” Lucinda said. “What a waste of an evening. I tried eavesdropping, but it was no use, what with all the chatter, and too many people had reformist notions for me to decide who might really be planning something seditious.”

“Tonight wasn’t a waste,” Restive drawled. “We now know where to look.”

And then it dawned on her. “You mean...you think Mr. Pearce is involved in sedition? But he seemed so harmless. Foolish, even. Not the plotting sort.”

“He also seemed anxious—far more so than usual. He greeted your arrival with relief. His first comment was ’Such luck!’ Not only that, he feels compelled to finish the ode quickly. It cannot wait till next week, or else...what? You won’t love him? I hardly think a poem will make any difference at all.”

“I’ve never seen him almost harried like he was tonight,” Lady Alice admitted, “and although one tended to set it down to the shock of falling in love, perhaps it wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?” Lucinda asked. “Why was meeting me lucky?” She paused. “Oh. Oh! Last week he invited Miss Collins to accompany him to Lady Tollister’s, and she refused because it would be too improper. What luck indeed that I’m pretty enough to make falling in love with me credible.” If not to you, she thought grumpily, which was ridiculous of her. Restive was the last man she wanted or would ever want.

“Your outrageousness must have encouraged him to believe that you wouldn’t have the same objection,” Restive mused. “I wonder what he wants of you? Apart from the obvious, but so would any other man, and I don’t think seduction is what drives him at the moment.”

“Whatever it is, he has a deadline,” Lucinda said, as it sank in. “Beltane Eve.”

“Indeed.”

The carriage turned into the street where the Hales lived. “In that case, I must go to Lady Tollister’s tomorrow.”