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“Come, my darling, it can’t be that terrible. Not if you barely know the gentleman as Araminta says.” Lady Partington’s tone hardened. “Sir Aubrey would not be my choice of husband for you, Hetty. Stephen doesn’t think at all highly of him.”
“And why should Stephen’s opinion count for more than mine?” Hetty sniffed. “If he told you Sir Aubrey was the best candidate a girl could hope for you’d be counseling me very differently. All these unfounded rumors.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I only wish the truth were known.”
“Really, Hetty darling.” Her mother sounded put out. “Cousin Stephen works in the Foreign Office so of course he knows things we can’t possibly be expected to know. We have to take his opinion when it’s offered. Now come along, my love, and drink this. Martha has just warmed it and it’ll make you feel much more the thing.”
Grumbling like the child she’d so recently been, Hetty allowed her mother to help her into a sitting position before taking the fragrant milk. It was hard to attend to these well-meaning platitudes when all she could think about was how she was going to disprove the rumors everyone insisted precluded Sir Aubrey from being an acceptable suitor. Not that he was going to marry her.
Nevertheless, she would be the one responsible for removing the tarnish that blackened his name. He might not thank her for it in the way she wished, but the thought of it made her feel strong and powerful.
* * * * *
After a great deal of tossing and turning and soul-searching during the night, Hetty felt much better. She could accept now that while she was not the bride Sir Aubrey would choose, she could at least be responsible for advancing his happiness and good fortune. Advancing other people’s happiness had always given her pleasure.
In this lighter, virtuous frame of mind, she went riding with Stephen in the morning, attending to him with all the cheeriness of her old self so that he remarked, “Well, my dear, I’m glad your sister’s pronouncements regarding your foolishness turned out to be so off the mark.”
“I suppose you mean Sir Aubrey.” Hetty slanted a disgusted look at her cousin. “Araminta thinks Mr. Woking is my perfect match.”
Stephen matched her grimace. “My dear girl, I would regard any relation of Lord Debenham with as much enthusiasm as I do Sir Aubrey. Lord Debenham might not be in the same league as your friend Sir Aubrey but he has a reputation for debauchery nonetheless. I’d much prefer to see you wed someone kind and gentle who’d appreciate your quiet charm as much as your sister is admired by the more adventurous for her dazzling attributes.”
Later that day, when Jane was brushing her hair, Hetty announced she needed her maid to accompany her on a shopping expedition for a new pair of York tan gloves. It was only when they were in the carriage that she leaned across to reveal the real motivation for their journey. Wanting to make amends to Jane was part of it.
“I know you were cross with me for saying anything to your young man but the fact is we’re about to visit him now. He’s promised I can view the letter in his possession.” At Jane’s horrified gasp, Hetty added quickly, “You mustn’t worry, Jane, for this will all end very well.” She truly did believe that. “Yes, it was wrong of Jem to take the letter but it was a good thing, otherwise Lord Debenham would have destroyed it. I’m certain that once I read its contents I will know how to use it to exonerate Sir Aubrey.”
Jane’s eyes grew large. “Jem is expecting you?” She shook her head. “Oh miss, I thought he was expecting Miss Araminta.”
“And why my sister when she knows nothing of this?”
Jane twisted her hands in her lap while a kernel of doubt lodged in Hetty’s breast.
“Miss Araminta quizzed me this morning,” said Jane. “She sounded as if she knew all about it. Said, in fact, you’d asked for her help as you were afraid of approaching the matter alone and that she’d agreed she would go and see Jem and discover if there were anything to this letter business.”
Hetty’s mouth dropped open. Her brain grasped for the true meaning in all this.
Jane looked more distressed than ever. “I didn’t know it were a secret and…I dunno but I might of said something.”
The familiar impotent rage Hetty always felt when her sister walked roughshod over her dripped through her veins like excoriating poison. Araminta was yet again one step ahead of her. Hetty, the quiet and meek little sister everyone overlooked, could never keep up. Didn’t this just prove it? While Hetty had done all the hard work and set the stage for triumph, Araminta was going to reap the prize.
Tears pricked her eyelids as she sank back against the squabs and surrendered to the jolting motion of the carriage ride.
“Miss, are you all right?” Jane sounded anxious. “We’ll still visit my Jem, won’t we? After all, we want to know what Miss Araminta plans to do next, don’t we?”
Little matter if Jane’s preoccupation was with seeing her young man.
Wearily, Hetty ran the back of her hand across her heated brow. “Yes, Jane, we’ll still see Jem. Araminta might have read the letter and told him it contained nothing of any account.”
Her earlier anticipation turned leaden as she stepped out of the carriage. She patted the floral festooned bonnet she wore, a ridiculous piece of frippery she’d chosen specially for her intended triumphant progress from visiting Jem to seeing Sir Aubrey. Her heart shriveled inside her chest.
She should be used to being left behind. Perhaps it was all over for her already. Perhaps Sir Aubrey was already in possession of a special license in anticipation of Araminta’s triumph and when Hetty returned home, Araminta would ask her to be maid of honor. That is, if she wasn’t married to him already.
When Jem arrived at the designated coffeehouse, he slipped into a booth, barely looking either in the eye.
“Dunno why you sent your sister when you’re here anyways,” he muttered. “The fewer what knows, the better, I say.”
There was no purpose in telling Jem the truth. Hetty got to the point. “What did my sister say when she saw the letter?”
“That I?
??d be rewarded handsomely. Miss Partington has a glib tongue on her, I’ll give her that.”
