A Grand Deception (8 page)

"I do not believe so, Mother" Sherwin couldn't imagine
how he could have been involved. Although it did seem as
if all the guests around him had participated in a human
version of tenpins.

"That's a relief. I had heard from Lady Shrope that there
was an inexperienced oaf on the dance floor, though she did
not tell me of which sex. I am gratified she had not referred
to you." Lady Amhurst began to circle him, taking in his
appearance. "I believe Lord and Lady Torrington's daughter
is someone we should consider noteworthy. We shall call on
them first this morning."

"Of course, Mother," was Sherwin's immediate response.

"And since you have cooperated so well, I shall see you
are amply rewarded." Lady Amhurst seemed almost giddy.
"Tomorrow morning, very early tomorrow morning, before
you could possibly be seen by anyone, you may have use of
the barouche to visit a pile of ruins of your choice."

"Truly?" His head came up, and he straightened in elation, causing Lewis to tug on the nearly complete cravat.

"Oh, sir-I beg your pardon!" the valet cried. "We must
begin again."

Sherwin didn't care. "Thank you, Mother." He felt particularly jolly, which made it possible to endure the torture
of one hundred cravats!

Muriel settled herself on the bench of the modest green
curricle while the liveried groom held the horses in place,
and she watched Lord Peter climb in and take the seat next
to her.

"Hatchards, you say?" Muriel blinked up at him, surprised that he should know she'd like to visit the bookstore
above all things. And to think she was near to ending her
association with him. Well, even though Lord Peter was providing her with this excellent opportunity, she could not allow
a mere visit to a bookstore to sway her mind.

This really was too kind of him, but she had already
decided not to see him again.

"I thought you might like to stop there after our drive.
Your father told me you were most anxious to see the establishment." After a reassuring tug to his gloves, Lord Peter
took up his whip and the ribbons, then with a nod ordered
the groom to release hold of the horses.

"You spoke to my father?" The news worried Muriel. "W-why w-would you do such a thing?" She knew exactly
why a young man spoke to a young lady's father. And the
prospect was too horrible to contemplate.

Was it too late? Would he propose soon? Surely not in
Hatchards bookstore!

"Rest assured, he advised I proceed with caution." Lord
Peter smiled, looking to be a bit nervous himself. "His Grace
reassured me my position with you remains unchanged."

She pasted on the best smile she could manage and nodded. That was true enough.

The horses sprang forward, and the green curricle moved
off. Muriel would need to endure another expedition through
Hyde Park before her dream of stopping at 173 Piccadilly,
Hatchards Bookstore, came true.

Lord Peter escorted Muriel inside the establishment, and
she gazed around, lifting her chin to stare up into every corner of the small room. They moved farther, passing into a
second room. Never had she been in the presence of so
many books. Bookcases lined the walls and surrounded her
as far as she could see.

Books, so many lovely books.

Not even Faraday Hall possessed so many volumes. She
dared not express her true feeling, lest she make a spectacle
of herself.

"I hear there are six floors." Her suggestion that they
should move up the spiral staircase to see them all was put
as politely as she could manage. "We have come all this
way, after all."

"You are right, of course." Lord Peter placed a protective
gloved hand over Muriel's, resting in the crook of his elbow,
and guided her past the large counter.

Never had Muriel wished for a different hat, one with a
larger brim so she could more easily hide her browsing. She
tried her best to read the titles as she walked past, showing
as little interest as she could.

"Will you excuse me, please? I wish to inquire about a
slim volume of poetry." Lord Peter pointed at a shelf off to
his right. "I think you might fancy it. "

Poetry? Muriel thought not but answered with a smile,
"By all means, do see if you can find it." She pulled her
hand from his arm and urged him to move away. "Take as
long as you like. I'll just do a bit of perusing myself."

She turned to the bookcase to her left the moment Lord
Peter stepped away, and the rich gold decorative scrolling
and lettering on the spine captured her attention. Cursus
Publicus: Roads of the Roman Empire.

Muriel pulled the heavy book from the shelf and pried it
open to look inside. Color illustrations covered the large
pages, illuminating major ports, roads, and settlements. She
ached to spend hours studying each page and admiring the
many images. Closing the book, she wrapped her arms
around its covers, holding it tightly against her.

Muriel wished to purchase the book, but if her aunt or father learned of it, they would know she had not given up her
bluestocking ways. She could not take the risk of discovery.

Glancing at the tome in her arms, then to Lord Peter, who
held the small book of poetry in his hands, Muriel thought
better of her actions and slid the volume back into place on
the shelf.

Her final decision was that purchasing the book would be
best left for another day.

That evening was, indeed, quiet. After the weeks of nonstop parties and early-morning studies, it had felt good to stay at home for a change. It had been just Muriel, her father, her aunt, and Sir Samuel for dinner. Then Aunt Penny
had to ruin the evening by presenting an invitation.

"The Duchess of Devonshire does not wish to see a repeat of last Thursday's tragedy at the Shropes' ball. Therefore she is hosting a morning practice dance to be held
tomorrow," Aunt Penny paraphrased for their benefit.

"But, Aunt Penny, we have only just finished dance lessons with Monsieur Dubois. Do you not think..." Muriel
had already endured sessions twice a week with a dance
master, months before their arrival in Town; it was beyond
enough. Not to mention her participation, years earlier, when
her sisters needed to prepare for their entrances into Society.

"You cannot deny that you, too, nearly fell," Aunt Penny
reminded her. "How you managed not to join the others on
the floor, I don't know."

Muriel had managed to avoid the massive accident. Her
good fortune had been due to her looking at Lord Amhurst
instead of joining hands with her partner. "And what of our
morning callers?"

The Duke said nothing but motioned to his sister-in-law,
whom he must have thought knew better than he.

"I imagine most of the young men will be in attendance. It's the quadrille, dear," Aunt Penny continued.
"Obviously, there are young ladies and gentlemen who are
having difficulty with the intricate steps."

How was Muriel to plan her escape for her lessons if she
were to attend early-morning dancing lessons?

"I do not think you should decline the invitation," the
Duke added.

"Of course you are right, Papa." Muriel gave them her best
smile.

Because dining that evening had been informal, enfamille, the Duke and Aunt Penny left the table to retreat to the small
parlor where all of them would spend the remainder of the
evening. Sir Samuel remained behind with Muriel and called
out to her.

"Lady Muriel, a private word with you, please, before we
join His Grace and Mrs. Parker."

"Of course, let us step into the breakfast room." Muriel led
the way.

"Where are Susan and her mother this evening? I expected to see them here." Sir Samuel walked with Muriel
very slowly down the corridor.

"Mrs. Wilbanks and Susan are dining with friends of
their family," Muriel told him. "What have you been up to
today?"

"I've been busy. Took Lady Embleton's daughter Flora for
a drive through the Park this afternoon." Once they stepped
inside the cozy room, Sir Samuel eased into a chair.

"You are actually courting someone?" Muriel gasped in
disbelief.

"As you are well aware, I still search for my wife. I have
for several years now."

"But to marry outside of my family . . ." Muriel settled
into the chair next to him. "Papa had his heart set on calling
you son."

"Unless you own to a fourth sister of whom I am unaware, or you care to engage my affections yourself, I highly
doubt His Grace will have his wishes met. I have called
upon your cousin Miss Kimball. Perhaps we shall find success in that quarter."

"Never say so!" The sharp reply came before she could
restrain herself. Constance and Sir Samuel would never suit.
Muriel cast her gaze down, a little embarrassed at her outburst, and softened her tone. "You do what you think is best"

Of course Muriel knew that Sir Samuel wanted to marry.
It had been many years since he'd declared himself and
proposed to her sister Augusta, and he still hadn't found his
future duchess. Sir Samuel was waiting for the right one.
The lady he would eventually choose would be a very special person indeed.

"If you think I am difficult to please, I fear it will take no
less than a Roman god to gain your notice," he said with a
nod of his head.

Perhaps ...

Muriel never thought along the lines of matrimony and
the type of gentleman she cared for ... but a Roman god ...
If he were truly Roman, she might consider his suit.

Leaning on his arm, Sir Samuel closed their distance to
whisper, "I have been considering your request of the other
night."

And? She widened her eyes, keeping silent, waiting for
his answer.

"What you plan is not to be undertaken lightly. If we are
discovered, your father will make quite sure that my presence no longer darkens your family's doorway. Or he will
surely call me out to gain satisfaction if I had any part in
your dishonor. I cannot tell you how dear you and your sisters have become-it is as if you are my own family."

My, he had given this quite a bit of thought.

"It could disgrace us and cause a scandal for both our
families. And I would deeply regret that above all things."

Muriel had not taken quite such serious consequences
into account when she asked him to aid her.

"I cannot imagine how I allowed you to talk me into such
a scheme."

Did that mean Sir Samuel would help her?

"It's not half as perilous as you make out. We shall leave early in the morning and return before I call for my maid after
noon." There really was no chance of discovery. Muriel continued breezily. "The staff, as well as Aunt Penny and Papa,
understand and accept my fatigue after dancing all night."

"Yes, you do participate in every dance, but you do not
fool me one bit." Sir Samuel placed his hands on the arms
of the chair and pushed himself to his feet.

"But I do manage to fool them." Muriel could not allow
Sir Samuel to talk her out of her plan. Furthering her education far outweighed attending silly dancing parties.

"If I do not aid you, then I am certain you shall find another who will," he said with some resignation. Indeed, Sir
Samuel knew Muriel better than she had suspected. He
sounded sage as he proceeded with caution. "The only way I
will know you are not in harm's reach is if I am the one who
makes the arrangements."

Sir Samuel was going to help her!

"This is a map to my aunt's town house just around the corner. I've added a few descriptions to help you find the place."
He handed her a folded piece of paper with his left hand
and dug into a vest pocket with his right. "This is the key to
the garden gate. You may let yourself in and wait for me
there when it is time."

"Where's your aunt? Isn't she at home?" Muriel eyed the
well-worn key and placed it on the crisp, folded paper.

"For these last few years she's closed the town house for
the summer and visits her sister in Somerset."

"Very well. I shall put this to good use." Muriel eyed the
small metal key, turning it over in her hand.

"It shall make me feel better knowing you're in a safe
place and not standing in the street like a hawker."

"Sir Samuel, you are wonderful!" She wanted to leap out
of her chair and throw her arms around him but could not risk the undue attention it would cause. "I cannot tell you
how relieved I am"

"Lord knows what will happen if we are discovered." Sir
Samuel exhaled, clearly concerned over the path on which
they were to embark. "If we are forced to marry because I
have compromised you ..."

"Never fear, I shall make you an excellent wife if that
comes to pass." She gave him a teasing smile.

"Allow me to reiterate my intention to wed a young lady of
my own choosing." He gazed at her with all that was serious.

Muriel made a moue. "I should not tease you, should l?"

"No, you should not." He cleared his throat. "When will
you meet with Signore Biondi next?"