“Have you found yourself a new accomplice now that I’m no longer at Cambridge?” Newton asked.
“I have, indeed.” Charlie grinned. “The brother of two of my sisters-in-law, Fennel Kendrick. He finished at Eton and is coming to Cambridge at the start of term. He’s always up for a lark.”
“More so than I was at first?”
“Everyone is more up for a lark than you were,” Charlie said with a laugh. “Cured you of that, though, didn’t I?”
“Thoroughly.”
Charlie’s mischievousness had proven contagious over the years they’d known each other, and the two of them had landed in any number of scrapes. They’d not been in any significant trouble, but they’d gained a reputation for piddling bouts of mischief.
“You could always abandon your dreams of barristering and rejoin us at the ol’ pile of bricks,” Charlie suggested.
“Barristering isn’t a word.”
Charlie eyed him with an exaggerated expression of disapproval. “You forget yourself, sir. My brother is a most respected man of the law. That qualifies me as an expert.”
“Then, apparently, you are also an expert in running an estate, breeding horses, fighting wars, and being very holy and church minded.”
Charlie snorted. “Church minded is hardly the right description for me.”
“Especially in the matter of Miss Sham-caster.”
The only time Newton’s friend audibly sighed, and not in jest, was when the topic of a certain young lady arose between them. Her name, of course, was not Sham-caster, but Lancaster. And, further, she was the youngest sister of the same Mr. Lancaster they were on their way to visit.
Newton knew he shouldn’t tease his friend on this topic, but he couldn’t help himself. “Miss Lancaster is an unrivaled diamond in Society. A shame she is your sworn enemy.”
“Not a shame,” Charlie muttered. “An inevitability.”
Newton laughed ever harder. Charlie had told him endless stories of his frustrating and annoying encounters with Miss Lancaster.
“I had opportunity to interact with Miss Lancaster a few times during my brief weeks in London after Lent term. She was in Town for the Season.”
“I wish you had told me of this acute and horrific suffering,” Charlie said. “I would have sent you my deepest, most heartfelt sympathy, perhaps offered you safe haven with my mother.”
Another laugh burst from Newton. He laughed more with Charlie than with anyone else he knew. “While I would have enjoyed spending time in your mother’s company, I was not so miserable as you insist. I found Miss Lancaster far more endurable than you convinced me I would.”
“Have you suffered a blow to the head?” Charlie pretended to be deeply concerned, though no one would have actually believed he was in earnest. “I can think of no other explanation for this nonsense.”
Miss “Sham-caster” ruffled his even-tempered friend. How could Newton be expected not to poke at that particular nerve?
“Perhaps she has come to Bath.” Newton mused over the possibility in as casual a tone as he could manage, all the while watching Charlie for a reaction.
“Bite your tongue, Hughes.”
Newton laughed quietly. After a moment, Charlie laughed as well.
“Admit it,” Newton said. “She’s not so terrible as you describe her.”
“She’s not.” An unexpected answer. “She’s worse.” Still, Charlie smiled. He didn’t like Miss Lancaster—there was no doubt about that—but he was too contented a person to be truly aggravated for long.
They reached Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster’s house on Lansdown Crescent. Their knock was answered quickly by a young, enthusiastic butler. The man, whose name they had learned on their first visit was Henson, was clearly new to his position and anxious to learn the way of it. Newton liked him. He was far more welcoming than the austere, staid butlers one usually encountered.
“Get on in.” Henson waved them into the entryway. He caught himself. “Please come inside, gentlemen.”
“Very good, man.” Charlie allowed a breach of etiquette as well, slapping a hand on Henson’s shoulder. “Make certain you ask for our cards.”
Henson nodded. “Your cards, gentlemen?”
They handed them over.
After thinking for the length of a breath, Henson motioned to the small sitting room. “You can wait in there, I s’pose.” He shook his head. “Please wait in here, gentlemen, while I see if the family is at home.”
Not badly done. Henson would sort himself out soon enough. And he wasn’t doing terribly, truth be told.
“Oh.” Henson stopped with one foot on the staircase. “There’s someone in that room. That’s permissible, isn’t it?”
Charlie nodded. Henson breathed a sigh of obvious relief, then hurried on his way.
Alone again, Newton spoke up, keeping his tone neutral and his laughter tucked away. “I, for one, am hoping the ‘someone in this room’ is a member of the extended Lancaster family.”
Charlie tossed him a felling look. “Don’t even joke about that.”
They stepped into the room. Sitting with unmistakable grace and elegance was a young lady Newton remembered well—one did not forget a diamond of the first water.
“Mr. Jonquil,” she said, her tone both painfully proper and amusingly superior. “What a . . . pleasant surprise.”
“Ah, lud,” Charlie muttered.
“And Mr. Hughes.” She turned to him. “An actual pleasure to see you.”
Newton dipped his head. “Miss Lancaster,” he greeted quietly.
“My brother told me the two of you were in Bath and had called.” Miss Lancaster motioned them farther into the room. Her manners could certainly not be faulted. “I had hoped you would call again.”
Charlie didn’t say anything. He simply stood rooted to the spot, a look of exhausted displeasure on his usually jovial face.
Newton could keep up a conversation when civility required it. “How long have you been in Bath, Miss Lancaster?”
“I arrived yesterday.”
That explained why they had not yet seen her.
“When are you leaving?” Charlie muttered under his breath.
Miss Lancaster appeared to be holding back a laugh as she lowered herself into a chair. She reminded Newton of . . . well, of Charlie when he wasn’t around Miss Lancaster. “My brother and his wife mean to spend another month in Bath,” she said. “They have invited me to remain with them throughout their sojourn here. I intend to accept their offer.”