“Surely he has seen you since the end of the war.”
“He’s seen a few of us at the Draven Club but not all of us together. We haven’t all been together since...I don’t know when. Unfortunately, this may be our last chance.”
Amelia slid back into her seat. “Why is that?”
He looked at the door to the room and said, “Go ahead and tell her, Florrie.”
To Amelia’s amazement, the door opened, revealing Lady Florentia standing just outside. She’d been eavesdropping!
“Don’t call me Florrie,” she said, her tone icy. “You know I’ve always hated that.”
Amelia looked from the false vicar to her sister-in-law. “Do you two know each other?”
“We do,” Lady Florentia said. “Lady Nicholas, allow me to introduce Mr. Rafe Beaumont, youngest son of the Earl of Haddington and a traitor to his king and country.”
“Now wait a moment,” Rafe said, standing. “I never betrayed my king.”
“And your country?”
He shrugged. “Depends who you ask.” He made a brushing away gesture. “The horsehair heads wanted a spy so they could parade her about and make long, tedious speeches. In the end, they would have discovered what I had—she hadn’t given the French anything they didn’t already know.”
“But they weren’t able to ascertain that since you helped her escape the country.” Lady Florentia closed the door behind her and spoke harshly but quietly so the servants would not hear.
Beaumont spread his hands. “What was I supposed to do? I love her.”
That admission seemed to take Florentia by surprise. “I never thought I’d hear you say that about any woman.”
“She’s not any woman, she’s my wife and the mother of my son.”
“Oh, Lord. I can’t imagine you a father.”
“Just keep it in mind when you think about turning me in.”
“I’m not turning you in. At this rate, I won’t need to.”
“Pardon me,” Amelia broke in. “I’m quite confused.”
Florentia crossed to her and took her hand. “I can imagine. Let me begin by apologizing to you. I accused you of planning this house party and did not trust you when you said you knew nothing of it. I am sorry for doubting you. That was uncharitable of me. I do hope you will forgive me.”
“Of course. There is nothing to forgive.”
Florentia squeezed her hand. “You are very generous, and I don’t deserve it. But let me explain further. As I am sure you have worked out, Mr. Beaumont is a friend of my brother’s. They knew each other before the war and fought in it together. But Mr. Beaumont fled England a couple of years ago before he could be taken into custody for treason.”
“Treason?”
Beaumont snorted. “It sounds worse than it was.”
Florentia gave him a narrow look. “Regardless, he is obviously supposed to be hiding here at Battle’s Peak under the quite flimsy persona of Vicar Osgood.”
“There’s nothing flimsy about my persona.”
“In any case,” Florentia said, ignoring him, “you can see why it is a very bad idea to invite a group of people here. Not only will my brother dislike a party, it risks Mr. Beaumont’s life.” She straightened her shoulders. “I will send letters immediately, calling off the event.”
“No!” Amelia and Beaumont cried in unison.
Florentia started. “I know why he does not want it called off, but why do you wish to continue with it?”
“Because I think Mr. Beaumont made a good point. Lord Nicholas never did have a chance to, in essence, finish the war. He was sent home before our victory and then when we celebrated at home, he was in recovery for his injuries. I think Mr. Beaumont is right that this will be good for him.”
“Thank you,” Beaumont said, looking smug.
“Forgive me if I disagree,” Florentia said, “but I know him better than either of you. A house party is not good for him.”
“He’s a grown man,” Amelia said, “why don’t we simply ask him?”
“No!” Florentia and Beaumont said together.
Amelia gave them both annoyed looks. “Why not?” She looked at Florentia. “Because it will upset him?” she said, then looked at Beaumont. “Because he might say no?”
“Precisely,” Beaumont said. “And this is the part where I make another confession.”
“Save me,” Florentia muttered, sinking into a chair.
“Go on, Mr. Beaumont,” Amelia said.
“This may be my last chance to see all of my friends. When I left for—er, parts unknown—I thought it would be temporary. I thought I would be home in a year or so. But coming home now I realize this misunderstanding may not blow over as quickly as I’d hoped.”
“Treason never does,” Florentia muttered.
“This may be my last chance to see the Survivors—that’s the name we gave ourselves,” he explained. “Since we came home while others were lost.”
Amelia glanced at Florentia and was surprised to see that she looked moved.
“I want the opportunity to see my friends one last time,” he said. “All of us together. I want to tell them goodbye and thank you. I never had the chance to tell them thank you.”
“If you go on with this rubbish, I will cast up my accounts,” Florentia said. Amelia gasped, and Florentia rolled her eyes. “He just wants to have a party. Beaumont is about as sentimental as that vase.” She pointed across the room to a pedestal with a large vase atop it.
“I can see nothing I say will sway you,” Beaumont said, his tone laden with the frost of one deeply offended. “In response, I throw my support behind Lady Nicholas’s suggestion. Let’s ask Nickers.”
“He will say no,” Florentia predicted.
“We won’t know until we ask,” Amelia said. “But we can’t exactly ask him tonight at dinner. We must continue to keep Mr. Beaumont’s true identity hidden from the servants.”
“We’ll make a secret rendezvous!” Beaumont said. “Do you have an old crofter’s cottage about?”
“No,” Florentia said.
“An abandoned dower house?”
“No.”
“What about Catmint Cottage?” Amelia suggested.
“That doesn’t sound very mysterious,” Beaumont said.
“That’s actually a good suggestion,” Florentia said. “There’s only your one servant there at night.”
“Yes, and tomorrow is Sunday. She usually goes to visit her great aunt and doesn’t return until Monday midday.”
“Then we meet there tonight,” Florentia said. “I’ll tell Nicholas I’ve seen the vicar and want to have a private word with him about the man. He’ll know I recognized Beaumont right away.”
“Not necessarily. I had a very good disguise.”
Florentia sighed. “Mr. Beaumont, I won’t flatter you by saying what you already know. Your face is unmistakable.”
“I think that’s a compliment,” he muttered.
“So we are in agreement then?” Amelia said. “We meet tonight after dinner at Catmint Cottage?”