What a Spinster Wants Read online

  Graham gave him a sardonic look. “Charmed.” He returned his attention to the others. “And the spinsters you speak of?”

  “Oh, not another one,” Cam moaned. “Must we always do this?”

  “Do what?” Graham asked, looking around. “What have I missed?”

  “Unfortunately, the truth doesn’t make all that much sense now,” Cam admitted, his face screwing up. “There aren’t many actual spinsters left in the Spinsters.”

  Tony shook his head in agreement. “Not really, no. Just Charlotte. Well, and Edith.”

  Graham’s interest was piqued at this. “Edith?” he repeated before he could stop himself. “What’s she got to do with spinsters?”

  “Don’t ask, Radcliffe,” Henshaw warned with a shake of his head. “Don’t…”

  “Ever read the Spinster Chronicles, Radcliffe?” Cam asked as he rubbed his hands together, almost eagerly.

  Graham flicked a quick gesture with his fingers. “Only recently, and not extensively.”

  Cam mimicked his gesture a bit more grandly to encompass the table. “We are the fortunate husbands of the writers. Well, not Henshaw, he’s that irritating younger brother no one quite knows what to do with.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Henshaw grunted, then sipped his drink.

  “But the rest of us,” Cam went on smoothly, “married the actual spinsters from the Spinster Chronicles, and were thus lumped together by association. So, put your intellect to work, and conclude that…”

  “Miss Wright and Lady Edith are also writers of the Spinster Chronicles,” Graham finished without any difficulty whatsoever. “You’ll find my surprise at a minimum. I see I must become a more avid reader while in London.”

  The other men stared at him for a long moment, and he stared back, unsure what they were waiting for.

  “That’s it?” Ingram finally asked, sounding disappointed. “That’s all the reaction we’re going to get?”

  Graham lifted a brow. “I’m not generally prone to dramatics. I know little of Miss Wright, but she is outspoken, which suits the tone I have found in the Chronicles as I’ve read them. Lady Edith possesses spirit and wit, such as can be found there, as well. I confess to having more difficulties imagining Mrs. Vale and Mrs. Morton taking part, but it’s certainly not outside the realm of possibility.” He sat back against his chair and restrained a smile. “Any other surprises?”

  Ingram made a face, shaking his head. “Having a friend who is a patron of the field of logic takes the enjoyment out of everything. No, there are no other surprises, devil take you.”

  “This is the most entertainment I’ve had in ages,” Henshaw proclaimed with a wide grin. “Quick, think of something else.”

  That wasn’t likely; Graham was not one to make a habit of light or ridiculous banter, even among his friends. Despite the treatment and statements of those at the table, he couldn’t count these men among them.

  Not yet.

  “Speaking of Edith,” Tony commented, deftly changing the subject, “have any decisions been made? Georgie didn’t say.”

  “That’s a first,” came a muffled muttering from Cam’s general vicinity.

  Was it? Interesting.

  “She’s having Amelia Perry stay with her,” Henshaw informed them. “I believe she arrived yesterday.”

  “I can’t believe the Perrys agreed to that.” Cam shook his head. “I like Amelia a great deal, but this is just putting another woman in harm’s way. Do her parents have the details?”

  Henshaw shrugged. “All I’ve been told is that they know what they need to. Amelia is very determined.”

  Graham shook his head firmly. “I’ve heard of widows of a young age hiring a companion for themselves, and even of sponsoring younger ladies for a Season. But this? It’s certainly not… orthodox.” He winced at the word, wondering if his opinion would be taken as passing judgment when it was never intended as such.

  But it only led to a round of chuckles. “Welcome to life with the Spinsters, Radcliffe. With a capital S, mind.”

  “Noted.” He looked around at them again. “Is this really the best option?”

  “Of course not,” Tony replied without missing a beat. “It’s only the easiest.”

  Now that was most certainly not true, and he took no pains to adjust his facial expression to claim otherwise. “Surely, it would be easier to install Lady Edith into someone else’s home,” he said flatly. “She would undoubtedly be safer, and no one else would be put into a potentially harmful situation.”

  “Sir Reginald would find that suspect,” Henshaw told him. “Edith hasn’t made a point of staying with anybody else since her arrival in London.”

  “So, take her out of London.” Really, was it so difficult to put these pieces together? “Surely, not everyone in this group thrives upon being in London for the Season.”

  Tony’s mouth curved in an almost smile. “You forget one thing, Radcliffe.”

  Graham turned his attention to the smug captain. “Do I?”

  “Edith is looking for security and protection among Society. She is making concentrated efforts to increase her social appearances and take up more engagements.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, seeming amused by something Graham did not understand. “Taking her out of London defeats that purpose quite soundly.”

  “She joined Grace and me in Derbyshire after Christmas,” Ingram pointed out. “I’ve never seen her happier. She joined us in the evenings, regaled us with stories from Scotland, walked the estate despite the cold, painted daily. She even snuck down to the kitchens in the middle of the night.”

  Cam coughed in surprise. “How the blazes do you know that, Aubrey?”

  Ingram grinned without shame. “I was doing the same. Bit awkward to be seen in my nightshirt and dressing gown by a guest in my home, but we had a laugh over it. She would get out of London in an instant if she could; she belongs out in the country in a quiet estate. The fact that she is remaining in London and going out in Society is proof enough of her commitment.”

  The image of Lady Edith Leveson sneaking around a country estate in her nightclothes was not one that would leave Graham’s mind any time soon. He swallowed and shifted in his seat, trying to do so as unobtrusively as possible.

  Did Edith wander about with her hair down or plaited?

  Graham shook his head slightly, forcing the impertinent thought back. There was no point in dwelling on that question, though the idea of her dark, treacle-colored tresses waving down her back in loose curls did have a certain appeal.

  Curses…

  “The point is,” Ingram went on, blessedly taking Graham out of a deadly whirlpool of imaginings, “we can’t take her out of London, and she would refuse to move into one of our houses purely to spare us Sir Reginald.”

  “Let him come to my house,” Cam growled, sounding like the man prone to fighting he was reputed to be.

  Suddenly, Graham saw the man in a whole new light and made a note never to anger him.

  Graham was a man of above-average height and an athletic build, but he would be no match for Camden Vale.

  Tony sighed, ignoring Cam’s dark invitation. “At least with Amelia staying with her, Edith will be sure to garner a few more invitations than she might have done on her own. Amelia is very popular, and the Perrys well-respected; once word gets out of the friendship, Edith will be invited absolutely everywhere.”

  “Good.” Henshaw nodded, taking a long drink from his glass. “Rumors already fly about her, so we will need to see that she is seen in the right company and under favorable circumstances. Sir Reginald will likely object to all of it and start his own rumors about her. That won’t help Edith make connections.”

  Graham glanced at the man in surprise. “So, we are trying to get her a husband? I thought Miss Wright’s idea was vetoed.”

  “We?” Tony repeated with raised brows. “You’re joining in?”

  Apparently so. It had been clear to Graham the moment he’d exchang
ed nods with Edith, but he hadn’t admitted such until this moment. He was committed now. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

  “Ingram brought me in, and I feel honor-bound to see this through.”

  “Good man.” Henshaw thumped his back once. “And no, not getting her a husband. We’re not going to force anything, but if Edith happens to form a connection with a gentleman of whom we approve…”

  Graham rolled his eyes and rested his elbows on the table. “Surely, there’s another way to keep her protected. Or why not just marry her yourself, Henshaw? You seem close enough to her already; it would be a comfortable match.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, he hated the idea. It was the simplest of all the ideas yet, but it was undoubtedly the most distasteful one.

  Funny, that.

  Henshaw grunted once. “I offered already.”

  “You did?” at least three of them asked.

  He nodded. “Before I knew the situation in its entirety. I call on her once a week, you know, to check on things and make sure she wants for nothing. I know how comfortable the match would be, and likely it would be exceptional. But she refused, and it is for the best.”

  “Is it?” Tony asked with more interest than Graham would have thought. “I would have sworn the two of you were destined. Georgie and I have wagered on it.”

  Henshaw glowered at his friend. “What have I told you about making matches for me? I respect Edith immensely. It would be a good marriage, but it is not to be, and both of us are happier that it is so.”

  “I bet you are,” Ingram murmured under his breath, smiling at something Graham didn’t catch, and Cam snickered alongside him.

  Tony, it seemed, was just as clueless. “What was that?” he asked.

  Ingram waved it off. “Nothing. So, we’re not getting Henshaw down the aisle, and Edith will be out and about, which could also give Sir Reginald more chances to make trouble. How do we account for that?”

  “Ensure one of us is present at each event?” Tony suggested. “We can keep an eye on Edith and intervene where and when it is necessary.”

  “Which works well, if one of us is invited to the same thing,” Cam pointed out. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t move in particularly exalted circles, no matter how beloved my wife is.”

  Henshaw nodded slowly, his dark brow wrinkled with thought. “The Spinsters are fairly good at intervening at the events where there would be mostly ladies, but as for the rest…” He looked over at Tony, one brow lifting. “What about Miranda?”

  Tony, Cam, and Ingram all crossed themselves in a strange motion of unison.

  “Who’s Miranda?” Graham felt the need to ask, if for no other reason than for explanation of their actions.

  “My stepmother,” Tony murmured with a weak smile. “I love her dearly.” He sounded as if he would say more on the subject, but just left the statement there, which made the others laugh knowingly.

  Graham was just as confused as before. “And she would be helpful?”

  Four sets of eyes stared at him in disbelief. “I forget how removed you have been, Radcliffe,” Ingram said on a sigh. “Miranda has the ability to move in the highest circles effortlessly and could be employed as an operative for the Home or Foreign Office. She is conniving, she is mischievous, and she has absolutely no shame. I’ve never been more terrified of any person, male or female, in my entire life.”

  “I find this difficult to imagine,” Graham admitted with some hesitation, seeing the effect the woman’s name had on the others. At their matching sly grins, he hastily added, “But I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Wise notion,” Henshaw grunted, shaking his head.

  “Miranda could help in the right circumstances,” Tony confirmed, taking them back to the topic. “What other measures are we putting in place?”

  Henshaw straightened in his seat. “Edith is having word sent to me whenever Sir Reginald calls on her. I don’t have many calls upon my person at present, so in theory, I should be free to come if needed. Her footman, Owen, is everything a Highlander is expected to be, so I do not fear for much while he is there.”

  “Good,” Graham murmured, his eyes staring off at nothing for the moment. “But why can we not do something about Sir Reginald himself?”

  “Cam?” Tony asked with some invitation.

  Cam heaved a disgruntled note. “My sister’s husband has some dealings with the law, and with some powers behind the law, none of which I know anything about. I am meeting with him this evening to beg for his assistance. And I hate begging.”

  Ingram patted his back twice. “There, there.”

  Graham snorted once. “But surely, for Lady Edith, we will all be making sacrifices.”

  The table grew silent, all eyes on him.

  That was unnerving, to say the least.

  Was he wrong? He was willing to sacrifice for her, and he barely knew her. Why wouldn’t these men, who knew her better, do the same and more?

  “I like you, Radcliffe,” Cam stated as though revelation had come to him.

  Tony hissed in apparent pain. “So sorry, Radcliffe. Nobody deserves that.”

  “No, indeed,” Ingram agreed.

  “Lads, behave,” Henshaw suggested lazily. “The man only knows Lord Sterling. It’s not his fault we’ve got Tony instead.”

  “Hey!”

  Graham chuckled at that. “I trust Lord Sterling is also involved?”

  “He will be,” Tony muttered with a dark look at his friend, “and anybody else we can trust.”

  “Is that a long list?” Graham asked, lifting a brow.

  The men looked at each other, faces wreathed in confusion.

  “No,” Henshaw said slowly. “No, it isn’t.”

  Chapter Nine

  An unexpected guest is rarely a pleasant thing.

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 4 September 1819

  “A letter for you, Miss Perry.”

  “Thank you, Owen! I cannot imagine who would wish to send me a letter here; I saw my mother only yesterday, and she had nothing of great importance to say at all. There is no reason for my brother to send me anything, either. He is far too busy gaming at present. Do you know anything of gaming, Owen? Apparently, James is rather skilled, but I have no idea what that means.”

  Owen blinked at the barrage of words, and Edith bit her lip to restrain a laugh. Amelia had been staying with her for a week now, and there was a distinct change about the house since her arrival. Everything was brighter and more filled with cheer, and though Amelia was still not quite herself, she was an improvement on the place.

  Even if she did talk a good deal more than Edith ever did.

  “I dinna gamble much, miss,” Owen admitted after a heavy pause. “An’ ne’er well, when I do. But I’d be willin’ to teach ye if ye’ve a mind to learn it.”

  Now it was Edith who stared, her mouth gaping. Owen rarely offered to do anything that did not involve physical violence, and there was nothing he detested so much as company. Yet here he was, offering to instruct Amelia in gaming, of all things.

  “Would you?” Amelia squealed and beamed up at Owen as though he were her oldest friend. “That would be so wonderful, Owen. I would be ever so grateful. I do feel quite the dunce at times, you know. No one ever teaches young ladies the practical things in life.”

  “Gaming is no’ verra practical, miss,” Owen told her with a wry smile Edith couldn’t believe she was seeing. “But I see yer point right enough. When next ye’ve an evening free, I can teach ye. Mistress, too, if she’s of a mind.”

  Edith raised a brow at her manservant, catching his mischievous glint. “Should I be of a mind?” she inquired mildly. “I’ve nothing to gamble with, Owen, and ye ken it well.”

  “Offer still stands.” Owen bowed to them both and left the room, leaving Edith to shake her head.

  “I have never seen him so accommodating,” Edith said to no one in particular. “Clearly, you are a reforming influence, Am
elia.”

  There was no response from the girl, prompting Edith to glance over at her, another teasing remark on her tongue.

  She bit that back the moment she caught Amelia’s face, devoid of warmth and pleasure, reading over the letter in her hand.

  “Amelia?” Edith prodded as gently as she could. “What is it?”

  Amelia’s eyes raised to hers, a sheen of tears visible. Her teeth grazed her full bottom lip in a clear sign of hesitation.

  “I have…” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “I have, for the last year, been engaging in a rather unconventional sort of courtship. It was slow, but it was fervent. I did not know how much so until we had to start corresponding rather than meeting. Then, for no reason at all, his letters stopped.” She looked down at the letter in her hand, her fingers trembling as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Oh, lass…” Edith reached out a hand, then drew it back when Amelia didn’t take it. “Is that not a letter from him there?”

  “No.” Amelia swiped a hand across her face. “It is my letter to him returned to me.” She held it up briefly, a sad smile crossing her face. “He never received it.”

  Edith sighed, shaking her head. “Is there not some consolation in that? He never received it, so ye canna know how it would be received. This isna jilting, if he’s not seeing your letters.”

  “Isn’t it?” Amelia whispered, the letter crinkling in her lap now. “If he isn’t receiving them, where is he? Why am I not having letters from him? What purpose is there in corresponding with someone who, for all intents and purposes, no longer exists to me?” She clamped down on her lips hard, turning away. “I’m not a woman with an impenetrable heart, Edith, and I do not always wear the countenance of sunlight, as everybody thinks. I have a vulnerable heart, and it is breaking in pieces, but nobody will know that, because he refused to court me for the world to see.”

  This was unbearable. How was Edith supposed to comfort the lass when there were no answers to be had? When Edith knew nothing of love herself, only the dream of it? How could she soothe a broken heart when her own had not been whole for years?