Page 70 of Cousin Conundrum

Kitty laughed. “No. Definitely not.” For all he was not so impossibly tall as Mr. Darcy, Mr. Fletcher had a fine set of shoulders, a broad chest, and muscles visible through his well-cut coat. He also possessed a firm, square jaw and a strong nose. His dark lashes might pass. As might his full lips, were they not already surrounded by stubble even though he’d obviously shaved that morning. On top of that, his hands were large and his knuckles thick.

Amusement returned to his eyes. “Then what?”

“What if we hide you behind a screen or curtain? Somewhere they will not see you at all.”

“That does make more sense.”

“It will be easy enough to entice them to call here,” Kitty continued. “Especially with the engagement.” She couldn’t contain a grimace. “As to which room to meet them in and how to hide you, we will require Miss Bingley’s assistance.”

Now it was Mr. Fletcher’s turn to pull a face. “I wish Hurst had not seen fit to tell her about my uncle.”

Kitty grinned. “Perhaps that is the source of Mr. Darcy’s eternal glower. He is accustomed to being the recipient of Miss Bingley’s ambitions. She likely sat herself between the two of you and forced you both to talk all evening.”

Mr. Fletcher shook his head. “She did sit between us, but she could not entice Mr. Darcy into pleasantries. When we gathered before dinner he asked if you or either of your sisters would be joining us, and how Miss Elizabeth faired. He was informed that none of you would be, and that she was not well enough to leave her bed. After that, he spoke little.”

How odd that Mr. Darcy would care. Perhaps now that he’d saved Elizabeth, he felt a vested interest in her? At least now he knew which short, dark-haired sister she was. The one who had endangered her life to save him from a fate similar to what Mr. Bingley endured.

Not that Kitty could imagine Mr. Darcy being swayed by a sodden gown. Miss Archer’s plan required a level of spontaneity Kitty couldn’t imagine in Mr. Darcy.

Still…sodden gowns…Kitty grinned. “I have a plan.”

“So quickly?”

She nodded. “A good one. One that will get at least one Miss Archer into a room where we can have you hidden, and with a delightful hint of the ironic.”

“If it is indeed a good plan, we will seek out Miss Bingley, and we should also share any plan we make with Mr. Hurst.”

“Where is Mr. Hurst?” Kitty asked, not troubled by Mr. Fletcher’s doubt in her plan. She didn’t need him to tell her it was good.

“The kitchen staff said he and Mrs. Hurst requested a picnic basket be made up.”

“We are facing diabolical and possibly dangerous Archer women, and he is on a picnic?” The choice seemed especially odd given the disaster the last picnic had wrought.

Mr. Fletcher shrugged. “I am certain he will return soon. In the meantime, you can share your plan.”

Kitty grinned. “First, tell me which sister you most wish to examine?” Though the irony would be sharper if the answer were Miss Archer, Kitty hoped he would say Cat.

***

Folding his hands behind his head, Steven reclined on the blanket he and Louisa spread on a grassy hillside that swept down into a veritable rainbow of wildflowers. Looking up from under the arms of the massive oak shading them, its leaves just starting to yellow, he took in clouds masquerading as a flock of sheep, slowly meandering across an otherwise blue sky. Louisa sat on the other side of the blanket, a basket of food packed by Netherfield Park’s competent kitchen staff beyond her. The moment would be perfect, were it not for her broom handle straight spine, her clenched hands, and the way her face pinched as if she had a lemon wedge in her teeth.

He was the cause of that pinch. Starting the day they married, her lovely face became more and more pinched. Her features squeezed together as if to hold in the disappointment their union brought her.

The disappointment he brought her.

He suppressed a sigh, trying to be quiet and patient. Louisa had requested they speak somewhere they had complete privacy. She obviously had something she wished to say. He’d confessed all on the day of the picnic. Spoken at length on the failings of his family and himself, and how hard he worked to pay his debt to the Crown so he could be free of his obligations and become the husband she deserved. Now, his role was to listen.

Louisa shifted, drawing him from his contemplation of the cloud-flock, and said, “When I saw you speaking with Miss Kitty behind that ridiculous guise of her reading a newspaper while you slept in your chair, I thought you were trying to seduce her.”

Steven started coughing, his entire being rebelling at the notion. He sat up, his eyes watering. “Seduce her? That child?”

Louisa stared straight ahead, her hands clenched in her lap. “I was only a year older than she is when we met.”

“Yes, but that was six years ago. I was only one and twenty.”

She shrugged, the movement stiff. “What am I meant to think you do, out at all hours? Coming home reeking of smoke, or horses, or the docks, or…or perfume.”

“But I told you what I have been doing. Serving the Crown.”