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Authors: The Scoundrels Bride
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bed with new enthusiasm for life. St. Aubyn would think of something. He had to.
But first she must write a missive to Laura. Could she trust her to remain silent about the assignation once she learned of it? With a studied look at Ellen, who was quietly going about her business of making up the bed, then placing the gown to be worn on the coverlet, Chloe decided she might as well ask. Penning the missive with care, she folded and sealed it.
“Ellen,” Chloe said some minutes later, “I have a letter for Miss Spayne. Could you be the dearest of maids and deliver it for me?” Chloe offered a shilling with the letter, knowing that Ellen would speechlessly accept both.
With a nod of her head, the maid took the letter, tucking both shilling and note in the pocket of her apron. Then she insisted upon helping Chloe into her gown of pale gray sprigged muslin.
Oddly enough the dress, intended to be nun-like in appearance proved quite different when worn. The double frill at the neck framed her face nicely and the demure puffed long sleeves flattered her slender arms. It was Chloe’s favorite gown. Ellen had found a pink silk rose to sew onto Chloe’s chip straw bonnet so that she thought she might be fair to being presentable when she went out this afternoon.
Somewhat to Chloe’s dismay, Laura wrote back that she would adore going to Leicester Square this afternoon and would present herself at Lady Dancy’s house at half past one of the clock.
Ellen did not question the outing, not that Chloe expected she would. Laura was another matter entirely. When she was ushered into Chloe’s neat room, she burst into question. With her pert, sweet face she strongly reminded Chloe of the drawing she had done of her friend—that of a sweet and cuddly kitten.
“What a mysterious invitation you sent me. I simply had to come. Fortunately, Mama approves of you as being a young lady of unimpeachable manners and integrity.” Laura’s brown eyes danced with mirth and she tilted her head to one side before she inquired, “Is it dreadfully tedious?”
“It is.” Chloe ignored the erroneous assessment of her character and wondered how best to explain their mission.
At last she said, “You know that Grandmama insists that I must marry Lord Twisdale.”
“I know,” Laura said, her voice devoid of expression but her eyes watchful.
“Oh, Laura, I am not perfectly mannered and obedient as your dear mama believes. I simply cannot marry that utterly odious man.” Chloe waited for her friend to react to such an outrageous pronouncement.
“Well, I wondered how you could endure such a thing. He is a complete toad.” Laura settled on Chloe’s favorite chair near the window and surveyed her good friend. “I fail to see how you may manage to avoid the fate, however.”
“That is what you must promise to keep as a secret. Will you? Cross your heart?”
Laura solemnly promised, then, eyes agleam, leaned forward in anticipation. “Tell me, oh, do,” she implored.
“I cannot go into the details, for it is too long, but Mr. St. Aubyn has taken pity on me and offered to help.”
“The Scoundrel?” Laura jumped up and began to pace back and forth on the rug, her dark eyes flashing with her surprise and consternation.
“Indeed, and I do not see him as a scoundrel. He believes me, Laura. He agrees that it would be a disaster were I to wed that dreadful man.” Chloe rose from where she had perched on the tufted bench to confront her friend.
Laura paused in her steps, turning to study Chloe. In a whisper, she said, “You mean he also thinks there is something odd about Lady Twisdale’s death?”
Chloe nodded. Then, with a glance at the mantel clock, she said, “We had best leave before something happens to prevent our excursion. Grandmama is off to Lady Sefton’s house, but I shan’t be at ease until we enter the Rotunda.”
With Ellen and Laura’s maid beside them, the girls entered a hackney summoned by the butler. The
But first she must write a missive to Laura. Could she trust her to remain silent about the assignation once she learned of it? With a studied look at Ellen, who was quietly going about her business of making up the bed, then placing the gown to be worn on the coverlet, Chloe decided she might as well ask. Penning the missive with care, she folded and sealed it.
“Ellen,” Chloe said some minutes later, “I have a letter for Miss Spayne. Could you be the dearest of maids and deliver it for me?” Chloe offered a shilling with the letter, knowing that Ellen would speechlessly accept both.
With a nod of her head, the maid took the letter, tucking both shilling and note in the pocket of her apron. Then she insisted upon helping Chloe into her gown of pale gray sprigged muslin.
Oddly enough the dress, intended to be nun-like in appearance proved quite different when worn. The double frill at the neck framed her face nicely and the demure puffed long sleeves flattered her slender arms. It was Chloe’s favorite gown. Ellen had found a pink silk rose to sew onto Chloe’s chip straw bonnet so that she thought she might be fair to being presentable when she went out this afternoon.
Somewhat to Chloe’s dismay, Laura wrote back that she would adore going to Leicester Square this afternoon and would present herself at Lady Dancy’s house at half past one of the clock.
Ellen did not question the outing, not that Chloe expected she would. Laura was another matter entirely. When she was ushered into Chloe’s neat room, she burst into question. With her pert, sweet face she strongly reminded Chloe of the drawing she had done of her friend—that of a sweet and cuddly kitten.
“What a mysterious invitation you sent me. I simply had to come. Fortunately, Mama approves of you as being a young lady of unimpeachable manners and integrity.” Laura’s brown eyes danced with mirth and she tilted her head to one side before she inquired, “Is it dreadfully tedious?”
“It is.” Chloe ignored the erroneous assessment of her character and wondered how best to explain their mission.
At last she said, “You know that Grandmama insists that I must marry Lord Twisdale.”
“I know,” Laura said, her voice devoid of expression but her eyes watchful.
“Oh, Laura, I am not perfectly mannered and obedient as your dear mama believes. I simply cannot marry that utterly odious man.” Chloe waited for her friend to react to such an outrageous pronouncement.
“Well, I wondered how you could endure such a thing. He is a complete toad.” Laura settled on Chloe’s favorite chair near the window and surveyed her good friend. “I fail to see how you may manage to avoid the fate, however.”
“That is what you must promise to keep as a secret. Will you? Cross your heart?”
Laura solemnly promised, then, eyes agleam, leaned forward in anticipation. “Tell me, oh, do,” she implored.
“I cannot go into the details, for it is too long, but Mr. St. Aubyn has taken pity on me and offered to help.”
“The Scoundrel?” Laura jumped up and began to pace back and forth on the rug, her dark eyes flashing with her surprise and consternation.
“Indeed, and I do not see him as a scoundrel. He believes me, Laura. He agrees that it would be a disaster were I to wed that dreadful man.” Chloe rose from where she had perched on the tufted bench to confront her friend.
Laura paused in her steps, turning to study Chloe. In a whisper, she said, “You mean he also thinks there is something odd about Lady Twisdale’s death?”
Chloe nodded. Then, with a glance at the mantel clock, she said, “We had best leave before something happens to prevent our excursion. Grandmama is off to Lady Sefton’s house, but I shan’t be at ease until we enter the Rotunda.”
With Ellen and Laura’s maid beside them, the girls entered a hackney summoned by the butler. The
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