“You do not think mamas behave so,” Sybil said.
“I do,” Cassandra said. “Though I do not have the benefit of my own, I have been careful to observe. What does your own mother say to it?”
Sybil’s expression took on a slight aspect of worry. “She’s delighted with the pact and has discussed the gentlemen in some detail. I have been clinging to the hope that two of them are already struck from the list—Lockwood and Ashworth. My mama told me last night that my father has recently reminded her that he does not like either of those gentlemen’s fathers. Something to do with a long-ago card game. I am hopeful my father recalls he does not like the rest of their fathers over some other ancient insults.”
“My aunt approves of the pact very much, and does not seem to dislikeanybody’sfather,” Cassandra said. “She’s also told me that my own father has had a long connection with Lord Hampton’s grandmother, the dowager, though my aunt does not know if the lady still lives. She hopes I may mention it in conversation.”
Cassandra felt her cheeks tinge pink. “I failed to mention that it would be unlikely that Lord Hampton and I have any future conversations, much less about any family connections.”
“Do you recall your father ever speaking of the dowager?”
“I do not,” Cassandra said, “but my father keeps up a vast correspondence and never talks much about it. He once told me I could read all his letters after he died, and I would find much amusement in them. Though I have begun to wonder if the lady is not the same person that my father has sometimes spoken of—I do not know the details but there was some gentlewoman who helped him out of what he’s termed ‘a scrape’ in his youth. I have always been under the impression that the lady had been a deal older than he at the time.”
“Goodness, and now you are pressured to pose the connection to Lord Hampton. I see what you say about a mama’s enthusiasm. That is just the sort of maneuvering I worry over,” Sybil said. “When I came to town, I had my heart set on a fellow who would sweep me off my feet, not one who was under contract to secure himself a wife.”
“We must stay strong and united, Sybil,” Cassandra said. “That is our only way through this muddle.”
*
Hampton gazed aroundDalton’s library. He’d not been in the house for ages and it was just as disheveled as he remembered it. Opened books lay on every surface, as if Dalton could never decide what he would read, and the dust surrounding them spoke to a lax household.
Lord Dalton himself, an earl and someday to be Duke of Wentworth, was a tall and muscular man with only a long scar running down his left cheek marring his appearance. He’d got it at the battle of Quatre Bras, a Frenchman coming within range and delivering the blow. His mother claimed it gave him a dangerous and dashing look. Dalton thought that idea was hopeful nonsense—ladies did not flock to damaged gentlemen. On the other hand, that they did not flock to him was a benefit at this particular moment in time.
Dalton’s butler shuffled in with a tray of glasses and poured out brandy, though it was far too early for it. Considering the servant’s advanced age, Hampton was only thankful he’d managed to set the glasses down without falling over.
Dalton motioned toward a table with six chairs round it. “To the war room, gentlemen.”
As they settled themselves, Hampton mused that, as much as he’d thought on it, he still had not devised a plan to counterattack his father’s directive without finding himself on the street.
Dalton said, “My own opinion is the whole thing hangs on Lockwood. It’shisfather that’s got them all riled.”
“If I could manage His Grace,” Lockwood said, “I’d have already done it. I’ve argued backwards and forwards and he’s resolute on the thing. I think he even wishes me to fail—he said living without funds for a year would cure me of my fondness for gambling.”
“Why did we even go through this damnable war, if it was not to return home and do what we like?” Ashworth asked.
“We all know the injustice of it,” Cabot said, “the point of this gathering is to discover what we can do about it.”
“We are the talk of the town,” Hampton said. “Burke spoke of it at supper last evening as if it were the most usual topic in the world.”
“Lucky Burke,” Grayson muttered. “I wish my own father belonged to Brook’s. There is no such lunatic talk at that club, it is only at White’s that such bizarre schemes are hatched.”
“Perhaps we burn White’s to the ground,” Lockwood said hopefully. “Take away their meeting spot.”
Hampton smiled. Lockwood’s mind always went to the most drastic action possible. “They’ve all gone home to the country,” he said, “and I suppose we cannot stop them communicating by letter without burning down the Royal Mail.”
“We will not be forced to take rooms in Cheapside, at least,” Dalton said. “I inherited this house from an uncle and my father cannot touch it. If it comes to it, you can all stay here. Though don’t expect good dinners, not much money came with the house.”
Ashworth looked around and said, “You can sell off some of these books you never finish. That’ll keep us in beef and brandy.”
This idea cheered the gentlemen no end. They toasted Dalton and drained the brandy already in their hands. Hampton was among those cheered: he had all but resigned himself to living in a garret somewhere. Here, there was a very good wine cellar that would take years to get through.
“What we need, in the meantime,” Grayson said, “is some bit of new gossip that will knock us out of people’s mouths. The talkers are always eager for the next thing, and to be the first to know it, and then the first to tell it to another.”
They sat in silence for some moments. Then Lockwood said, “Hampton, were you in jest last evening about Miss Knightsbridge? About her shooting birds?”
Hampton shook his head. “I was not. She said as much, as well as a penchant for galloping over hill and dale without a groom, in front of both Burke and Miss Danworth. God only knows what else goes on in Surrey.”
“Well, well,” Dalton said. “That is certainly enough to begin. I’ll send a man to Surrey to find out just that—what elsedoesgo on in Surrey in the environs of Miss Knightsbridge? With any luck, we’ll discover some little thing that, combined with shooting birds and riding off without a groom, should set tongues wagging.”
