What Would Jane Austen Do? (10 page)

   "I'm just happy it isn't me," the younger sister replied.

   "I'll make it up to you, I promise," Deirdre said to Eleanor.

   "I hope I don't make a fool of myself by using the wrong fork or something."

   "Copy what Deirdre does," Mina said. "That's what I always do. And when in doubt, talk about the weather."

   Pausing at the parlor entrance, Deirdre turned to the butler standing at attention nearby. "You may ring the assembly gong, Tuttle."

   He bowed, and with an air of solemn ceremony he opened a tall case of darkest wood to the left of the front door, exposing a large brass circular plate with exotic engravings. He removed a batonlike device from a high shelf and struck the gong.

Eleanor resisted the urge to cover her ears.

   "An ancestor of our mother's brought it back on his return from the Second Crusade," Deirdre said. "Come. Our guests will be arriving shortly." The sound of the front door knocker followed their entry into the parlor. "Ah, that would the vicar and his rector. Always punctual."

   "Especially if it involves a free meal," Mina whispered to Eleanor as she took her place beside her sister. "If I were you, I'd find an out of the way corner until other guests arrive, or you'll be stuck talking to the rector all evening."

   Eleanor took Mina's advice and sat in one of two chairs that faced the window. If she peeked around the high wingback, she could see nearly the entire room, but she was out of the traffic pattern.

   As the first guest to arrive, the vicar positioned himself near the fireplace and watched the entrance with a welcoming smile. The rector took a post next to a table that held a bowl of sugar-coated nuts that Eleanor knew as Jordan almonds, her favorite movie theater treat. She'd once read on the back of the box that a honey-coated version of the confection dated back to the ancient Romans and that the sweet had been around in recognizable sugar-coated form since the fifteenth century. The rector put one candy in his mouth and another in his pocket. He repeated the process every time the vicar looked the other way.

   Although the girls had not set up a formal receiving line, over the next fifteen minutes Deirdre greeted each newcomer, took the person by the arm, intro duced the guest to someone, and provided a topic of conversation of mutual interest before moving back to the door to start the process over again. If Deirdre was busy, Mina smoothly took her place. They made it look easy. Eleanor was left in awe.

   "Why are you hiding in the corner?"

   Eleanor started. She hadn't noticed Teddy's approach. Bent over, his face was inches from hers. She leaned back. "I… uh…"

   "Shall I fetch you something to relax your nerves? I could smuggle in a brandy."

   "I'm not nervous," she lied.

   "Hey ho, Digby," a handsome young man in uniform said as he approached. "Not sporting of you to keep the most attractive lady in the room all to yourself."

   Teddy visibly fought for composure. "Cousin Eleanor, may I present Major Alanbrooke of the Forty-Second Hussars, temporarily bivouacked near here while on maneuvers. Alanbrooke, Mrs. Pottinger, recently arrived from the Colonies."

   "Ah, so you are the widow Digby's sister told us about."

   Eleanor glanced over her shoulder and caught Deirdre's eye. The girl grinned and winked before turning back to the vicar with a solemnly attentive face.

   "I'm compelled to warn you," Teddy said. "Alanbrooke here runs with a rather fast set."

   "No help for it," Alanbrooke said. "My family motto is: Ride fast, shoot straight, and love well. Have to live up to the family dictum, don't you know?" His serious tone was tempered by the twinkle in his eye.

   Something else was there too. Sadness? She sensed

the man had given his heart totally and irrevocably elsewhere. The woman was unavailable, or his love was unrequited. His teasing banter held no motive other than a bit of pleasantry to pass the time. Intuition told her she'd found a friend, so she felt comfortable returning the conversational lob with her own bit of innuendo.

   "My family motto is: Beware of charming horsemen who are armed," Eleanor responded.

   Alanbrooke grinned and spread his hands wide. "You have disarmed me with your beauty and wit."

   "No man…" she said as she dropped her gaze momentarily to his waist, "with a sword is ever completely disarmed."

   "As you see, I left my saber at the door with my hat."

   "You have a saber?" she asked with an innocent smile.

   His hoot of laughter caused a moment of silence in the room. He offered his arm. "With your permission, there are two pompous young lieutenants yonder who need to be put in their place, and I have the notion you are just the person to do it."

   Alanbrooke escorted her to the other side of the parlor and introduced two fresh-faced officers resplen dent in scarlet uniforms. Parker, tall and thin with red hair and freckles, stammered his pleasure at meeting her. Whitby, stocky with a head of riotous curls the same shade as his laughing brown eyes, kissed her hand and made a gallant bow.

   That was how Eleanor became the center of attention of the military contingent, much to Teddy's obvious frustration. He tried unsuccessfully to shift the conversation to a familiar subject. Eleanor didn't help him out.

   "The problem with being attracted to an officer in uniform is that eventually it comes off." She stated the innuendo with a straight face and sweet smile to make it more effective. The lieutenants attempted to hide embarrassed laughter behind feigned choking. "You two are horrible." She stomped her foot as if she had been misunderstood. "You know I meant when the gentleman retires."

   The lieutenants' faces got redder and redder.

   "I believe the term you are looking for is 'cashes out,'" Alanbrooke supplied after taking pity on his men. "When an officer leaves military service he sells his commission, thereby cashing out."

   "Did Alanbrooke tell you we were in the same form at Eton?" Teddy asked her.

   "No, he didn't. Is that how you two met?" she asked her new friend.

   "Yes. Rockingham also. You'll meet him tomorrow. Parker and Whitby here are a few years our junior."

   "We were so flattered to be included with upper classmen we didn't even mind having to wear dresses," Parker said in a rush, as if he seldom got to say a complete sentence. Whitby punched him in the arm.

   Eleanor let her surprise show in her expression.

   "Completely innocent, I assure you," Teddy said.

   "I think we must explain," Alanbrooke said. "We needed to raise funds for… ah… extracurricular activities. Digby had a crazy idea to put on a play and charge admission. He wrote it and then recruited underclassmen to play the female roles."

"I was much shorter then," Parker said.

   "I should think so," Eleanor said, straining her neck to look up at him. He was now the tallest man in the room, a gangly youth with a prominent Adam's apple.

   "It was successful beyond our wildest expectations. So we did several a year," Teddy said.

   "I neither drink nor gamble," Parker said. "So I saved all, well, most of my share to finance my summers in Italy studying painting."

   "I bought two brood mares and stud service to start a racing stable," Whitby said.

   She turned to Alanbrooke.

   "I drank and gambled to excess and graduated without a ha'penny to my name."

   She turned to Teddy.

   "We should put on another play," he said, avoiding her unasked question regarding his activities with slick ease. "Tomorrow night. Just like old times."

   "I can't," Parker said with a long face. "My father made me swear on my great-grandfather's sword never to put on a dress again."

   "How did he find out?" Teddy asked. "We were so careful to keep your identity a secret."

   "You probably shouldn't have kept the costume," Eleanor said. She'd meant it as a joke, but from the shocked look on Parker's face she realized she'd hit a bull's-eye.

   "Only the silk stockings," he whispered.

   She put a sympathetic hand on his arm. "And your father found them?"

   Parker nodded. "Apparently, when I fired my valet he went straight to Father to exact his revenge. It's the only way the old man could have known exactly where I kept them."

   "You should have told him they belonged to a doxie," Whitby said. "At least that wouldn't have been so bad."

   "Well, you won't have to wear a dress this time," Eleanor said. She patted the young man's arm. "There are plenty of us who would be willing to act the female roles."

   "You would do that? You would be in our play?" Parker asked.

   "Why not? And I'm sure Mina and Deirdre will agree too."

   "I do not think that is a good idea," Teddy said. "My sisters on stage?" He shook his head.

   "It's only a bit of entertainment for friends and family," Alanbrooke said. "Hardly scandalous."

   "I suppose…"

   Teddy did not seem convinced.

   "With you in charge," Eleanor said to him, "I'm sure everything will be above reproach."

   "Of course it will," Alanbrooke agreed.

   "Very well," Teddy said. "They can participate."

   "Bravo. It will be so much better with real females," Whitby said with a boyish grin.

   "You're telling me?" Alanbrooke said, and everyone laughed.

   "Will I have a part?" Parker asked.

   "All the young people will have a role," Teddy promised. "I'll write plenty of small parts so no one will have many lines to memorize."

   "I don't know how you're going to do all that by tomorrow," Eleanor said.

   "Never question a master," Teddy said.

   Mindful of her task— at least she told herself that was the reason she spoke for him—Eleanor said, "Don't forget a part for Shermont."

   "Is he here?" Whitby asked.

   "Yes. He'll join us at the gaming table later, if you have a mind to play a few hands," Teddy said.

   While the others discussed that possibility, Alanbrooke turned to Eleanor with a raised eyebrow. "Shermont?" he mouthed silently.

   She shook her head as a blush rose in her cheeks. Alanbrooke must be intuitive. Or was she that transparent?

   Thankfully, Deirdre wormed her way into the circle. "I hate to take Eleanor away, but she has yet to meet her dinner partner." At the groans and offers to take his place, Deirdre shook her finger at them. "And you gentlemen have been shamefully neglecting your own designated partners. Dinner will be served in a few minutes, so I suggest you make amends before you're doomed to endure a silent meal." She took Eleanor's arm and led her away.

   "I take it you enjoyed yourself," Deirdre said with a smug smile. "Unfortunately, it's now time to pay the piper." Moments later, she introduced Eleanor to the candy-eating rector, Mr. Fleckart, who by now had a bulging pocket full of Jordan almonds.

   He took her hand and bowed. While he waxed eloquent over the honor Miss Cracklebury bestowed upon him by inviting him to partake of what he was sure would be an exemplary meal, Eleanor pulled her hand back and surreptitiously tried to wipe off the sticky residue he'd left. Deirdre gave her an apologetic look.

   A sudden hush caused her to turn toward the door. Lord Shermont had entered.

   "Good evening," he said loud enough for all to hear. "I do hope my appearance is not the cause of any inconvenience."

   Of course, he would have to know the opposite was true, but all would forgive the ranking male. If Eleanor could judge by Mina's welcoming smile, she'd already done so.

   Aunt Patience scowled and made a "harrumph" noise.

   Deirdre excused herself and rushed to her sister's side. "We are relieved you are no longer unwell," she said to him. "And pleased you decided to join us."

   "There I was eating my solitary meal when I real ized I was missing the opportunity of spending time with the loveliest females in England."

   Mina giggled, and Deirdre grinned as he bent over her hand. Eleanor understood their reaction and felt a similar welcoming elation. In the course of making his bow, he glanced at her and smiled as if he'd read her mind. Warmth spread through her veins like melted honey.

   Shermont made the rounds to greet the guests he already knew, including Major Alanbrooke, and to meet the lieutenants. Despite Carl's insinuation that the decision to dine downstairs came suspiciously soon after he'd relayed the servants' gossip regarding Eleanor's interest in the military men, Shermont's assessment of the situation proved he'd made the right choice. The younger officers were garrulous, and, in their eagerness to impress, they could inadvertently reveal information valuable to the enemy.

   Shermont positioned himself near the fireplace where he could overhear the voluble officers and watch Eleanor, thereby mixing duty with pleasure. On the other hand, it put him in proximity to Patience Aubin, who was not happy to see him, even though she didn't have the nerve to give him the cut direct.