Laurie Brown - What Would Jane Austen Do?

“His valet is closemouthed, as is proper.”

Shermont had finished dressing and turned to the mirror to check his cravat. “Excellent.” He patted the elaborate knot Carl had tied. “Keep your ears open,” he encouraged as he headed for the door with a light step.

“Yes, milord.”

Interested in the topic of their conversation, Eleanor left her seat by the window in the parlor and joined the other women around the coffee table. She accepted a cup of tea from Deirdre.

“Shermont will not ask either of you to dance if he has a lick of sense,” Mrs. Maxwell said to her daughters. “Your father would—”

“It’s just a dance, Mother,” Fiona said.

“No. It’s your reputation.”

“What is it about that man young girls find so fascinating?” Mrs. Holcum asked. “Oh, I know he’s handsome, and titled, and—”

“Now he has a title,” Mrs. Matthews interrupted. “But I heard …” She paused for effect, and the other chaperones leaned forward. “Five years ago, the elder Shermont found him on the roadside beaten near to death by brigands, as the story goes. He survived, but he has no memory of how he got there or any events before being found. He does not even remember his real name. Since the elderly Shermont’s sons had both been killed fighting Napoleon, he later named this stranger his heir.”

“Can someone adopt a grown man?” Eleanor blurted out.

“Not adopt,” Deirdre explained. “Named as his heir. Not unusual for a man without a son to name a nephew or cousin or distant relative—”

“But a stranger?” Aunt Patience shook her head. “Who would have thought it possible?”

“And most surprising, Prinny approved,” Mrs. Holcum said. “He missed an opportunity to have the sizable estate revert to the crown. Not that I would say anything bad about the Regent, but to elevate a man of uncertain breeding …”

“I met Shermont several years ago,” Mrs. Matthews said. “He had an accent I couldn’t place, definitely unrefined. Perhaps he is a Colonial, like your cousin,” she added to Deirdre.

Eleanor bristled and would have made a scathing comment about intentional rudeness, but Mina quickly remarked, “I find her accent charming.”

“We are at war with the United States,” Mrs. Holcum said with a sniff.

“I understand your concern for your brother serving in the Navy, but England is not at war with our cousin,” Deirdre said, putting deliberate emphasis on the last two words.

Mrs. Holcum pressed her lips into a hard white line, saying no more along the ugly American theme. Eleanor decided to cut the woman some slack. She’d forgotten about the War of 1812, as it was known in America. Although the presence of men in uniform was mentioned several times in Jane Austen’s work, Eleanor had always assumed they were destined to fight Napoleon.

“The Americans. The French. Is there anyone we’re not fighting?” Fiona sighed. “These wars have created a dearth of available young men, and any still in England speak of nothing else.” She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin in her hand. Her mother tutted her disapproval, so Fiona sat up as straight as a yardstick and folded her hands in her lap.

“The Spanish are our allies,” Mrs. Holcum pointed out.

“And if a Spaniard appears on our doorstep, we will offer him our hospitality,” Deirdre said. “Currently, Lord Shermont is our guest and as such can expect nothing less than appropriate civility.”

“He seems quite proper,” Aunt Patience said. “He’s been here for several days, and his manners have been above reproach.”

“Well, he has spent time in polite society,” Mrs. Matthews admitted. “Perhaps one should not be too hasty to judge a person solely by his antecedents. Other factors should be taken into account.”

“Other assets aside, I hear he has a large … um … fortune,” Aunt Patience said.

Mina and Hazel giggled and whispered and giggled more. Eleanor fought to keep from rolling her eyes.

“Good heavens, Patience, don’t say such things in the presence of impressionable ears.” Mrs. Holcum gave her daughter a stern look. “My daughter will not dance with that man. For all we know he could be the son of a … a …”

“Highwayman or pirate,” Mina supplied with a wistful smile.

Eleanor shivered, but her reaction was not fear.

“A rather fanciful notion,” a deep voice responded.

Lord Shermont sauntered into the parlor, with Lord Digby on his heels.

Deirdre jumped up and greeted the newcomers. She put her arm through Teddy’s and said, “Brother dear, do say something in defense of our guest.”

“I might point out that ne’er-do-wells rarely speak several languages, quote classical literature, or understand scientific and mathematic principles,” Teddy said, almost hiding his reluctance at singing the other man’s praises.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip. “There could be an educated pirate.”

“Obviously my sister has been reading too many romantic novels,” Teddy said as he shook his head and spread his hands.

Shermont stepped forward to execute a gallant bow in front of Mina. He raised her hand to the barest brush of his lips. “While I’m flattered to be compared to the hero of one of your books, I expect when the truth of my previous circumstances is known, my heritage will prove quite ordinary.”

“I think not,” the entranced girl whispered.

Eleanor changed her mind and decided Mina must be the one who was seduced. Shermont moved away from Mina and stood by the fireplace with one elbow on the mantle. Even though he appeared to ignore her, he was close enough for Eleanor to detect the spicy scent of his cologne.

Teddy cleared his throat. “So where is the dancing master? You have here two gallantly agreeable partners. That is, at least in my case, if you’re willing to risk your toes in the pursuit of learning the latest fashionable steps.”

“My dear, you are a marvelous dancer,” Aunt Patience said. “But poor Mr. Foucalt was so distressed by his arduous journey from town that I told him we would wait until tomorrow for our lesson. We can have the footman fetch him if you would prefer today.”

“Not necessary,” Teddy said. “It is too nice to remain indoors anyway.”

“Let’s go on an outing,” Mina suggested, clapping her hands. “To the ruins.”

“Capital!” Teddy agreed. “Cook will pack a picnic, and you won’t have to return until late afternoon.” He yanked on the bellpull, and the butler appeared almost instantly. “The party will need transportation to the ruins. Both the carriage and the landau, I should think.”

Tuttle bowed. “Yes, milord.”

“I noticed you didn’t call for your horses. Won’t you gentlemen accompany us?” Mrs. Holcum asked Teddy.

He laid his hand over his heart. “Unfortunately, duty takes precedence over pleasure. I must remain behind to welcome the other guests expected to arrive today.”

Shermont wasn’t given a chance to reply before Mrs. Holcum spoke up.

“Perhaps we should delay the picnic until tomorrow,” she suggested. “It looks as though it might rain this afternoon, and I’m sure your other guests will enjoy such an outing.”

Eleanor deduced Beatrix’s mother didn’t want to wander too far away from the fish she thought her daughter had caught.

“I agree,” Deirdre said. “I have had enough of the inside of a carriage for one day. We could play croquet.”

“Excellent idea,” Aunt Patience said. “We will meet you gentlemen on the south lawn in half an hour. That should be time enough to fetch our bonnets and parasols. With your leave.”

She stood and led the ladies from the room.

A fraction of a second late in understanding she should tag along, Eleanor jumped up. Because she wasn’t used to wearing a long dress, she stepped on the hem of her skirt and lurched forward to catch her balance. Shermont caught her arm, preventing her from taking a header.

“Once again, I’ve had the pleasure of rescuing you,” he said.

Eleanor pulled free and avoided rubbing the tingling spot where he had touched her. “Thank you. I appreciate your saving my dignity again. I’m not usually so clumsy.”

“That’s good. I believe it’s a rule that after three rescues you would be formally obligated to dance with me at the ball.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned forward as if to confide a secret. “I am a terrible dancer. I tread on my partners’ feet and make wrong turns. I can’t make small talk because I’m counting the steps out loud. Deplorable.”

His rakish smile told her his self-depreciation was charming nonsense. Teddy’s snort of disbelief reinforced her intuition.

She pasted an innocent look on her face and batted her eyelashes a little. “In that case, should the possibility arise, I will be sure to wear my steel-toed dancing slippers.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Then I hope you won’t step on my feet.”

The tone of his teasing contained an unspoken challenge she found stimulating. “I would hate to make a promise so easily broken.”

“Then maybe we should substitute another activity for the obligatory dance. May I suggest a walk in the garden?” His deep blue eyes suggested she’d discover more than scented pathways.

His charm was made all the more dangerous by her physical reaction to his nearness. She forced herself to remember what had happened to Deirdre and Mina. “Perhaps next time you should just let me fall on my face.”

He gave her a wounded look that was plainly a sham. “As a gentleman, I could never stand by and allow such a catastrophe to happen.”

“Nor would I,” Teddy said, stepping between them. “My duty is to look after you, and with that in mind, I shall endeavor to be by your side the next time you need rescuing.”