How in the world could Amelia remain so unmoved in the face of this man? So collected, so bold, when she had professed to simply being a silly girl like any other in Society. There was nothing silly in this, and no other woman in Society to compare.
“How long will you be here, then?” Sir Reginald’s voice sounded more irritated than irate, but there was an undertone that had Edith curling into a ball where she sat.
Amelia, however, remained unruffled. “Some time, I should think. As long as Lady Edith allows me to.”
Steps echoed once more. “You will leave this house tomorrow.”
There was no mistaking the venom in his voice now, and Edith pushed to her hands and knees, teeth pressing down painfully into her lip.
She could not believe his audacity. To threaten a young woman with no connection to him? Whose family was influential and popular? Either he did not know of the family, or he did not care.
The first would have been understandable, the second terrifying.
“I will do no such thing,” Amelia insisted in an equally harsh tone. “I have been invited to stay, and stay, I shall. We have a great many things to accomplish together, and I don’t believe any of them include you.”
“Take care, Miss Perry. You don’t wish to make an enemy of me.”
“I have no wish to make an enemy of any man, sir, but that does not mean I do not have them. And you should take care, I think. My uncle is the Earl of Wicklow, Lord Frenway, and unless you have completely mistaken your histories, you will know that means he is one of the most powerful men in Ireland, and a personal friend of the prime minister, whom I am to have tea with tomorrow. Perhaps I should tell him of your visit?”
Edith’s mouth popped open. Amelia had said nothing about influential relatives, and for her to give such a threat, veiled as it was, to Sir Reginald was unfathomable. What he wanted most was to have standing and place in Society, and to risk that was to risk ostracization.
He could not have that, surely.
Sir Reginald’s shoes clipped in the corridor almost immediately. “Good day, Miss Perry. Do forgive my rudeness. I am only disappointed. I beg you to inform Lady Edith of my call, and that I would be pleased to find her at another time more convenient to her.”
Some scuffling was heard, and then the door closed soundly, leaving the house in complete silence for a moment.
Edith raced down the stairs and rounded into the drawing room, looking at Amelia in shock. Her expression was much the same.
“Where did that come from, Amelia?”
“I have no idea,” she whispered.
The two suddenly burst out laughing, nerves and relief blending in hilarity, and were quite insensible.
“Mad as hares, the both of ye,” Owen grumbled. He shook his head and moved back to the door as frantic knocking echoed there.
Edith wiped tears of mirth from her eyes as familiar voices filled the air. Henshaw and Lord Radcliffe appeared in the drawing room, looking as if they had run a very great distance.
“What in God’s name…?” Henshaw asked, looking between the still laughing ladies.
Owen explained what had happened hastily, and the men looked at each other in confusion.
“Edith, are you all right?” Henshaw asked, coming to take her arm once she was calmer.
She nodded and gestured for them all to come more fully into the room. “I am verra well. I’ve not had to deal with Sir Reginald in so long, I almost forget what it is like.”
Henshaw gave her a shrewd look. “Don’t make light of it, Edith. This has to stop.”
Edith sighed and rubbed at her brow. “I know. I canna stop it on my own, but Amelia’s quick thinking today will no doubt change things.”
Lord Radcliffe stood nearby, looking at her with some interest. Edith finally looked at him, and his focus seemed to intensify.
Her cheeks heated. “My lord, it is good to see you again.”
His mouth quirked only slightly. “You as well, Lady Edith, though I had hoped for better circumstances.”
“How did you come to be here?” she asked, looking between him and Henshaw. “I sent a note to Lieutenant Henshaw, but—”
“I saw the weasel, and he looked distressed, so I made the logical conclusion.” He shrugged. “Henshaw and I arrived at the same time.”
Edith smiled at his attempt to lessen his response. “Trying for another mark, my lord?”
“Perhaps,” he replied, his eyes becoming amused.
Henshaw looked over at Amelia, who had said very little. “Well, thanks to Miss Perry, there was nothing for us to do. That was very smart, Miss Perry.”
Amelia flushed a little. “No doubt, it was the first time I have told a lie of such magnitude, but I trust it shall not count.”
Edith reached out a hand and covered hers. “If you hadna told him I was out, he would have been far worse.”
Amelia smiled a bit shyly. “Oh, no, that was not the lie I meant.”
The room looked at her in confusion, waiting.
She snorted a bit and covered her mouth. “My uncle is a gentleman, with a fine heritage, richly tied to Ireland.” She looked at Edith quickly, her smile growing mischievous. “As blacksmiths. Then in trade. My mother’s entire fortune was from shipping. I have never met anyone close to the prime minister, and I have not, nor likely will ever, have tea with him.”
Edith stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing again. Henshaw and Lord Radcliffe grinned, while Owen applauded and cheered as loud as any Scotsman ever has.
“This could prove interesting,” Henshaw said, looking back at Lord Radcliffe. “Sir Reginald will have a difficult time slandering Lady Edith while she is in Miss Perry’s company, particularly if he thinks she has ties to the prime minister.”
Lord Radcliffe nodded slowly. “How much time will that buy us?”
Henshaw hissed. “Hard to say. Enough time to figure out a better course, I would think. He’s shown he is willing to torment Edith at events, so that avenue is not open to us.
They continued to converse among themselves, and Amelia leaned over to Edith. “What are they talking about?”
Edith shrugged and reached for the tea she had put down before. “I have no idea. I have completely lost control of my life. I only do what others tell me. But handsome would-be heroes are tolerable compensation.”
Amelia giggled and took some tea herself while both waited to be addressed again.
Chapter Twelve
A little interference may go a long way.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 12 July 1815
“Tell me more about your brother, Edith. He’s a baron, yes? I find him enormously intriguing.”
Edith looked at Charlotte with some alarm. “No. Absolutely not, Charlotte.”
“What?” Charlotte replied, dark eyes wide, looking around at the room of Spinsters. “I merely wish to learn more about the family member of one of my closest friends. Where is the harm in that?”
“A young, handsome, by all accounts, vigorous Highlander who has recently come to London to make amends and reconnect with his sister,” Grace mused aloud as she poured her tea, smiling to herself. “Yes, your interest would be quite innocent, would it not?”