The Frog Earl (23 page)

Chapter 19

“Papa, Mr. Lloyd has just proposed to me.”

The colonel set down on his desk the orphanage plans he was studying. The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement as he surveyed his puzzled daughter. “You refused him, I take it, as you did the others?”

“Yes, Sir Wilfred on Monday and Albert Pell yesterday.” Mimi shifted a pile of papers and perched on the corner of the desk. “Do you think Mr. Blake will come tomorrow?”

“Very likely. I daresay business has kept him from rushing to your side. Do you mean to reject him, too?” He smiled at her emphatic nod. “Since you care for none of them, I'll explain why they are all coming up to scratch at once. You see, my dear, it took none of them long after our arrival here to discover that you are a wealthy young lady. With varying degrees of discretion, they all waited a decent interval before approaching me to ask for your hand in marriage.”

“Just long enough to make it seem they might have developed a tendre for me?” Given her low opinion of those concerned, Mimi was neither surprised nor chagrined.

“Precisely. I told them, one and all, that you must have time to become accustomed to English Society before you chose a husband, and I set a period of one year from our arrival.”

“Which expired just the other day.” She laughed. “And to think I thought it was because I have behaved with such decorum for a whole week! Well, I must be off. Mr. Blake has made me late fetching Harriet for our ride, and Lady Thompson is expecting us.” Leaning across the desk, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa, for making them wait. A year ago I should not have known how to handle them at all.”

She went to change into her riding habit, then she and Jacko rode down to the vicarage, Rohan trotting alongside well clear of the horses' hooves. Approaching the house, she saw Mr. Lloyd riding off toward the village, his shoulders slumped disconsolately. She stared after him, a fascinating surmise bringing a grin to her face.

As soon as Harriet, with Jacko's help, was mounted on Shridatta, Mimi demanded, “Has Mr. Lloyd just offered for your hand?”

“Well, yes... but Mimi, one ought not to discuss a gentleman's proposal.”

“You can tell me. I won't tell anyone.”

“How did you guess?”

“I saw him riding away from the vicarage looking glum, and as I rejected him in no uncertain terms not an hour since...”

“You put two and one together and came up with four.” Smiling, Harriet shook her head. “Your logic defies me, but you are right.”

“And have Albert Pell and Sir Wilfred also proposed this week?”

“Mr. Pell, yes. Not Sir Wilfred.”

“Oh well, he is going to London in the autumn. I daresay he is hoping for bigger game. I prophesy that Lawyer Blake will be on your doorstep for the same purpose in a day or two.”

“I am willing to believe you, but why?”

Mimi explained how her father had forbidden her suitors to approach her for a year. “So I thought, since I had turned them off they might well come straight to you,” she finished.

“The colonel's postponement was fortunate for me,” Harriet said. “A year ago I should have accepted an offer. I cannot imagine how I could have thought I might be happy married to any of them.”

“It's only three months since I set about my plan to return them to you.”

Jacko opened the meadow gate and they rode through. Mimi was silent, pondering all that had happened in those three months. She halted Deva Lal when they reached the paddock and sat looking at the pond. If it hadn't been for the gadflies around the pond last summer, she'd never have gone fishing for tadpoles in the mere and her meeting with Simon would have taken a quite different course. She sighed.

Harriet echoed her sigh. “Now I know what a true gentleman is like,” she murmured. “I could not marry anyone else. Yet it is near a fortnight since he returned from Crossfields and he has not spoken.”

“How impatient you are! I'm sure lords have to consider such an important step with the utmost care. He will marry you in the end.”

“Do you really think so? Recently it seems to me he has paid you as much attention as he has me.”

“He has been unusually affable, no doubt because I've been on my best behavior. I'm beginning to quite like him, but don't worry, Harriet, I shan't have him even if he does propose.”

“I don't want him to propose to you!” Harriet wailed.

Rohan, sprawling exhausted on the grass, sat up and barked in sympathy. Startled, Shridatta tossed her head, distracting Harriet from her woes—fortunately, as Mimi had no ready answer.

“Jacko, hand Rohan to me, please,” she said. “He's too little to run all the way. Come on, Lady Thompson will be wondering where we are.”

Baird admitted them to Mere House. He gave Rohan, in Mimi's arms, a benevolent pat.

“So this is the young fellow you rescued, miss. A taking little chap. I understand the Reverend Lloyd called at Salters Hall this afternoon?” He winked.

“How on earth did you know that already?”

“Now that would be telling, miss. Three down and one to go, eh? This way, if you please, ladies. Her ladyship is expecting you.”

Mimi was more surprised by the speed of the butler's knowledge than by the fact that he knew of her suitors' coming up to scratch. She was not at all surprised by Lady Thompson's greeting.

“So, Mimi, my dear, Baird tells me you have turned down three offers in as many days.”

“Yes, ma'am. But Harriet says it is wrong to speak of it.”

“Very proper. You will not wish to embarrass the gentlemen whose suit you have dismissed. However, those of us not personally involved are free to speculate to our hearts' content and to tease you about it. You mean to reject Blake, too, I trust?”

“My lips are sealed,” said Mimi virtuously, taking a seat beside Harriet on a small sofa.

“I daresay your papa warned you that they are all fortune hunters. Sir Wilfred is well enough to pass, of course, but the Marburys would like to enter the Fashionable World. I was never so surprised in my life as when that woman told Lady Daumier they are all to go to town for the Little Season.”

“Sophia was crowing odiously.” Mimi giggled. “I could not but be glad when Lady Daumier said they rarely spend much time in London in the autumn.”

“She said it in such a kind way,” Harriet put in, “as if she was sorry she could not invite the Marburys to call.”

“You may be sure she was relieved,” said Lady Thompson firmly. “Who would choose to have about them such toad-eaters as the Marburys? Would you believe that woman came next to me to try for introductions to some of my friends!”

“Have you tonnish friends, ma'am?” Mimi asked. “I did not know.”

“I had my Season before I married Sir Josiah, and he and I were used to go sometimes to town. I have kept up a correspondence with several grandes dames of Society, though I have seen little of them of late. I hope I know better than to inflict that Marbury woman and her spiteful daughter upon them.”

Harriet was obviously uncomfortable with this uncharitable conversation, so Mimi changed the subject. “Tell us about your Season, ma'am. I daresay things were very different then.”

“To be sure. It was before the French Revolution, you know, which made such a change to our manners and fashions though it never spread to England, heaven be praised.”

Baird brought in the tea just then. Absently nibbling on macaroon after macaroon, her ladyship described gowns of heavy velvet and brocade over hooped petticoats so wide a lady had to pass through a door sideways; face patches with names like the Adorable and the Kissing, and hair piled high over horsehair pads; gentlemen in powdered wigs, with high-heeled shoes and clocked stockings, who always wore swords and challenged each other to duels at the drop of a gold-laced tricorne hat.

Mimi listened with one ear, having heard much the same from Mrs. Forbes. The other ear was alert for any indication that Simon and Gerald were coming to join them. She was taken by surprise when Lady Thompson suddenly stopped in the middle of her reminiscences, held up her hand, and announced in a portentous voice, “I have a splendid notion. In fact, I will go so far as to say I have a plan.”

“Oh good.” Mimi clapped her hands. “I love plans.”

“What is it, ma'am?” Harriet asked cautiously.

“I shall take you both to London for the Season.” Ignoring their astounded gasps, she continued, “With your money, Mimi, and my connections, we shall all have a grand time. And you will both meet dozens, nay, scores of eligible gentlemen and make splendid matches and show those country bumpkin fortune hunters who have been pursuing you so assiduously, Mimi, and have behaved so disgracefully to you, Harriet, just how insignificant they are.” Ending on this triumphant and slightly breathless note, she beamed at them.

Pros and cons raced through Mimi's mind. Harriet already knew whom she wanted to marry, but an announcement of his aunt's plan might serve to prod Lord Litton into action. If not, the rivals for Harriet's hand to be found in London might turn the trick. At worst, the entertainments of town could serve to distract her from her disappointment. She might even find someone else she liked as well as the viscount.

As for herself, Mimi suddenly realized that if she couldn't marry Simon her only choice would be to dwindle into a rich and eccentric old maid. All the talk of fortune hunters had made her realize his difficulty—his pride would rebel at being classified with Albert Pell and Lawyer Blake. She could only hope that he loved her enough to overcome his pride.

She wasn't sure he loved her at all.

Still, if he did, Lady Thompson's plan might persuade him, as well as Gerald Litton, to act. And if he didn't, at least Mimi would be an old maid with memories of the gaiety of a London Season. On the whole she approved.

She was about to say so when Harriet broke the thoughtful silence.

“It is excessively kind in you to invite me, my lady, but I fear Papa could not possibly bear the expenses of a Season.”

“Fustian!” said Mimi. “You cannot suppose that I should enjoy myself in town without your company. Indeed, ma'am, I don't mean that I shall not have need of your support, but tell Harriet how much more comfortable it will be to have a friend of my own age as well.”

“Quite right, my dear. Nothing is so fortifying to the spirits as an intimate friend with whom to face the world. So you think the colonel will agree to my plan, Mimi?”

“Oh yes, I have only to say that I want to go.”

Harriet's hand in its darned glove smoothed her faded blue cambric skirts. “But I cannot accept...” she began.

“I have a plan!” Mimi interrupted, then added, giving credit where credit was due, “Or at least a sort of sub-plan of your plan, ma'am. Harriet, if you don't marry you will have to seek a position as companion or governess, will you not? I shall ask Papa to hire you as my companion. He will understand that you have to have gowns and everything as good as mine, so that people don't think me vain or parsimonious. Please say you will come. I don't believe I am brave enough to face the ton without you.”

“Remember what a sensation the two of you were at the Chester assembly,” Lady Thompson urged.

Her lips quivering, Harriet managed a smile. “I shall have to talk to Papa and Mama.”

Mimi hugged her friend. She doubted that Harriet had considered the possibilities of the plan, so obvious to her own fertile imagination. It was probably better not to suggest that Gerald might be encouraged to offer, in case he wasn't.

Looking up, Mimi caught Lady Thompson's speculative gaze on the two of them. Was it possible that she guessed their feelings for her nephews, that her hopes for her plan matched Mimi's?

“Pray ring the bell, Mimi,” said her ladyship blandly. “The tea grows cold and all the macaroons have vanished.”

* * * *

“I do believe Mimi Lassiter is quite the most generous girl it has ever been my fortune to know,” Lady Thompson announced, accepting Baird's offer of a large slice of rhubarb and strawberry pie and pouring thick cream over it.

“Perhaps, never having lacked money, she does not comprehend its value,” Gerald suggested. “In many ways she is an innocent, guileless child.”

“Hardly guileless,” snorted Simon, who did not care to hear his princess praised by the cousin he was fast coming to regard as a rival. “Her endless plots and plans reveal a distinctly Machiavellian cunning.”

Gerald grinned. “You must admit she is innocent of any regard for the consequences. She is at once ingenious and ingenuous.”

“As I was about to say,” their aunt interrupted firmly, “I am not speaking of monetary generosity alone. Mimi is always eager to make Harriet feel she is doing a favor by accepting a gift, and she sincerely wants Harriet to have the best. I have known many a young lady in my time who was all too glad to have her companions less well dressed than herself.”

“Miss Lassiter possesses true generosity of spirit,” Gerald admitted.

Simon glared at him, and was taken aback by his aunt's badly hidden amusement. He couldn't believe Aunt Georgina actually enjoyed seeing her nephews at odds.

“To what do we owe this sudden spate of praise for Miss Lassiter, ma'am?” he inquired.

“Why, I have been following her example, Simon. I have been plotting and planning. It is my intention to take Mimi and Harriet up to London for the Little Season at least, possibly in the spring also. It will be vastly entertaining to see the pair of them with suitors swarming about them, as I don't doubt will be the case. Besides, it is an age since I was in town and I look forward to becoming reacquainted with a number of good friends.”

Both Gerald and Simon frowned.

“Miss Cooper cannot possibly afford a Season, Aunt,” Gerald pointed out.

“I am well aware of that. Mimi proposes to hire Harriet as her companion. She swears she is too timid to face the ton alone.”

“Mimi timid!” Simon laughed. “I can't imagine her abashed by even the most redoubtable of dowagers. She stood up to Pell's bullying kennelman with nary a blink.”

“She is pluck to the backbone,” Gerald concurred, “though I had rather face a dozen kennelmen than any one of some dowagers I am acquainted with. Have both young ladies accepted your invitation, Aunt Georgina?”