“Of course it is.” She shrugged a shoulder, then turned with cool confidence to the other gentleman. “You have had my deepest empathy these past days, Mr. Hughes.”
“Why is that?” He spoke as quietly as he had the day before, not in a tone of true bashfulness but as someone who was simply more contemplative and reserved.
“One cannot be subjected to Mr. Jonquil’s company without suffering greatly in the enduring of it.”
Mr. Hughes did not appear to take her entirely seriously. Mr. Jonquil looked as though he very much wished to object to Artemis’s declaration but didn’t care to make a scene.
Mother opened her mouth, no doubt wishing to direct the conversation, but Artemis spoke too quickly.
“Miss Ellie and I have been enjoying a very convivial conversation, but I have learned that she has not yet been engaged for the next set.”
Like a magpie in pursuit of the next shiny treasure, Mother seized the moment. “Lillian is not yet engaged either. Mr. Hughes, would you be so good as to fill the gap?”
If he was overly shocked at the breach of etiquette—gentlemen were seldom pressed so directly—he did not indicate as much. He simply dipped his head without the slightest change to his expression. Ellie hadn’t the first idea whether he was humorless or stern. Perhaps both. She didn’t dislike him; she simply didn’t know what to make of him.
“And, Mr. Jonquil,” Mother pressed forward. “Elfrida is unlikely to secure a partner if you do not show her a degree of compassion.” She had secured Lillian a partner without actually insulting her. Ellie never did seem to warrant consideration.
“I doubt she could be here long without being quite in demand.” Mr. Jonquil turned to Ellie. “Might I secure your company for the next set before someone else swoops in and snatches you away?”
Though she did not intend to cooperate enough with her parents’ dictates to actually try ensnaring Mr. Jonquil, she was deeply grateful to him for that moment of kindness. He had salvaged her dignity and had done so without drawing undue attention.
Ample time remained before the next set would begin for all the parties involved to spend a little more time interacting with others. The gentlemen, no doubt, planned on doing precisely that. But Lillian kept close to Mr. Hughes’s side, not so subtly reaching for his arm and all but forcing him to offer it to her. She smiled up at him, not in pleasure but in something far more like victory.
“I cannot imagine you do not remember that look,” Ellie said quietly to Mr. Jonquil.
“It haunts my dreams.” His tone was teasing, but his words were sincere. “I will drop a word of warning into my friend’s ear, assuming he is able to eventually slip free.”
She offered him an apologetic glance. “I hope he will not think too poorly of my family. I also hope he will take your warning seriously.”
“His is a compassionate nature and a remarkable intellect,” Mr. Jonquil said. “He’ll be wise in both regards.”
Ellie remained in the grouping, knowing her mother would allow nothing else. As dictated by her family, she kept very quiet. As dictated by her own integrity, she kept a physical distance from the gentleman they meant for her to pursue.
Lillian offered Mr. Hughes no such reprieve. By the time the next set was over and the two gentlemen returned them to their parents, the poor soul looked ready to run for his life. What little subtlety Lillian had employed during their efforts in Shropshire had yet to make an appearance here.
If they were not all very careful, Lillian’s efforts might just prove successful. And if she managed to ensnare her chosen prey, Ellie would be under increasing pressure to capture the quarry chosen for her.
And they would all live unhappily ever after.
Chapter Four
If not for the very real possibility that Miss Napper would drag him quite literally to the altar should he offer her even the tiniest encouragement, Newton would have faced the remainder of his time in Bath with equanimity. The Nappers were not objectionable by Society’s standards, but Newton had no desire to entangle himself. He already felt trapped enough by his parents’ dictates and demands.
“We have been invited to take supper and spend an evening with Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster,” Mother said. The three of them—Newton and both of his parents—were making what was proving to be a biweekly visit to the Grand Pump Room to walk and, in Mother’s case, to take the waters. Charlie, intelligent chap that he was, never joined them.
“An excellent connection, there,” Father said. “And that Miss Lancaster would be quite a feather in your quiver.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Father quickly realized the potential insult in the metaphor. “I hadn’t meant to be demeaning. Her standing in Society is second to none. That you can claim her as a friend will serve to elevate your standing. The possibility of something more is quite encouraging.”
Light spilled in through the windows, brightly illuminating the space, in stark contrast to Newton’s dark and dreary mood as he discussed the current matter. His parents understood so little of what he wished for in life. “I am not interested in ‘something more.’”
Mother patted his arm. “Perhaps not at this exact moment. But do keep your mind open to the possibility. She is a lovely young lady and precisely the sort we would wish for you.”
Countless arguments immediately rose to mind. He knew better than to voice them. His parents had set their sights on more than just his future occupation—or the blocking of it, more accurately. They were also being dictatorial in the matter of his future spouse. It was a difficult thing to be so little understood.
“If I will not be needed,” he said, “I believe I will take a turn about the room on my own. The space is a peaceful one.”
That was something of a lie. Though Bath was not as highly sought-after a city as it had been mere years earlier, it was still popular enough for the Grand Pump Room to be fuller than Newton would have preferred. In that moment, though, he knew himself more equal to enduring the press of strangers than his parents’ intrusion.
Mother nodded. “Take a turn, Newton. I mean to make slow work of the waters today.”
He did not need to be told twice.
A half circuit of the long, high-ceilinged room brought him, to his great surprise, face-to-face with Miss Lancaster and Miss Ellie Napper. He attempted to offer a quick nod and be on his way, but it was not to be.
“We’d hoped to find you here,” Miss Lancaster said. “We are hatching a wonderfully clever scheme, and we need you to join in our conspiracy if we are to have any hope of success.”
He was at an utter loss for a reply. They wished him to join in a plot? He hadn’t a long-standing association with either young lady, and neither did he suspect he’d given either one the impression that he was a likely candidate for group mischief.