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“Well, that seems to have put a binding on your tongue,” murmured Cat.
“There was some discussion about adding a building to the grounds. A building specifically to house the sick and help prevent the spread of contagion to the healthy,” Harriett explained. “I didn’t think he’d taken my idea seriously. I still don’t. I think he’s up to something. Something unpleasant.”
“So speaks the once-upon-a-time idealist. Where has your optimism gone?”
Harriett stared at her for a moment. “Do you want to know the real reason why I left the Penworth ball early?”
Cat’s blue eyes widened. “It wasn’t Russell, was it? It was Manchester!”
“Yes. We had a disagreement that night—about William,” she added before Cat could do more than open her mouth to inquire. It was mostly true. Well, partly true.
“You set your tongue loose, didn’t you?”
“Indeed,” Harriett conceded, her cheeks warming over her sister’s choice of words. “And though it was immensely satisfying at the time, I now deeply regret it. When Manchester did not return to the Hospital afterward, I thought maybe he’d decided to give up. I heard nothing for more than a week, and”—her voice broke—“Oh, Cat! I so wanted to believe I’d won! But now he’s here and talking to Papa, and I cannot believe he is not up to some devilry.”
When she finally spoke, Cat’s voice was hard. “Have you any knowledge about him that he might prefer to remain private?”
“Open warfare is not an option.”
“Who said anything about open?” Her sister’s eyes glittered dangerously. “I’ll ask Letty and Bea about him and see what they have to say. They know everything about everybody.”
Harriett fought down a spurt of panic. “You cannot be obvious about it! If he finds out that either of us is asking questions—”
“Relax,” said her sister with a smile far too wicked for her tender years. “I know how to be discreet. All I’ll have to do is nudge the conversation in the right direction. Once they get started they won’t stop until they’ve exhausted the subject. It’ll be like shaking a plum tree at the height of harvest season—I’ll simply wait for the fruits to fall.”
“Please be careful,” Harriett begged. “I appreciate your willingness to help, but I do not wish to invite yet more trouble or distract you from your purpose.”
“Why should it distract me? In helping you defeat your enemy, I may gain some information that can further my purpose. The man must have some unmarried acquaintances, after all.”
“I should have a care about pursuing any of his friends,” Harriett muttered. “Birds of a feather, you know.”
Her sister laughed. “I’m quite sure I can handle myself. Probably better than you and certainly better than you seem to think. I’m young, but I’m not blind nor am I deaf. I’ve spent my whole life listening to you, Arabella, Elizabeth, and all of your friends. I’ve learned how to navigate Society through observing your successes—and failures.”
Harriett met her steady gaze, wondering. Did she know about Arabella? But how? She’d been out visiting a friend the day their sister had come home in disgrace, and they’d had no advance warning of her arrival. Had Arabella, against Papa’s bidding, confided in her before she’d been spirited away?
The gold now dangling from her ears had come into Cat’s possession at some point outside of the carefully monitored visitations allowed by Papa before their errant sister’s departure. Did Cat know? Harriett longed to ask, but decided against it. It wasn’t worth the risk.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I’m glad to know you’ve gained such wisdom without having to endure the hardships that went with many of those lessons. And I’m very glad to have you as my ally. Learn what you can about him then—carefully. I shan’t turn down any information that might be of help in defeating him.”
“Wonderful!” said Cat. “And I promise he shall never know from whence your knowledge comes. No one would ever suspect me.” She opened her eyes wide and fluttered her long, curly lashes. “After all, everyone knows I’m empty-headed.”
“Catherine Dunhaven, you are no such thing!”
“Of course not,” she agreed with a sniff of disdain. “But letting everyone believe I am has its uses. The world is kinder to women who don’t let on they have a mind beyond that which is required to look pretty and keep a man’s house in order.”
Harriett let show her profound disapproval. “I cannot believe I am hearing this. I detest being treated like some featherbrained twit just because I’m a woman. I’ve had an extraordinarily difficult time convincing the world I’m worthy of its respect, and you want to encourage its derision of our sex?”
Her sister shook her head. “Not at all. I simply know which battles I wish to fight, and that is not one of them. I am not like you, Harriett. I’ve no desire to strive with the world. And though I know it will offend you further to hear me say it, I’m quite happy to let men think me a beautiful flibbertigibbet because it will be far easier to catch one of them that way.”
“But don’t you want someone who will appreciate you for who you truly are?”
“Of course! I should like nothing better. And perhaps, if I am lucky and choose well, I shall end up with a man capable of seeing me as more than a brood mare. But in the end, if I must settle for one who views me in such an unflattering light—well, that is what friends are for.”
“I could never marry a man who did not respect me as an equal,” Harriett told her, aghast.
“Which is why you will have great difficulty in finding a husband. You ask too much of the typical male. William was not like most men, as you’ve said countless times—and even he was surprised by you in the beginning, if you remember. It isn’t that I don’t want a husband who respects my intellect, but I must marry this year. I cannot afford to be too exacting. All I require is that he be kindhearted and a good provider. The rest can come later—after I’ve secured his name and protection.”
“And if it doesn’t come at all?”
