Chapter Seven

Constance hardly knew where to look. Lady Juniper had just very casually told Miss Semper that her clothes were terrible.

Miss Semper glanced down at all her ruffles. "Goodness, I did not have a modiste, only a seamstress. I gave her some ideas, and here we are."

"You are lost at sea in that dress," Lady Juniper said, "but do not despair. I will call in my own modiste, Madame Lissette, and we will examine your wardrobe and turn it into something elegant. After all, you certainly have enough material to work with."

Constance thought Lady Juniper entirely unique in her brand of kindness. Constance, herself, would have expressed kindness by not saying anything about Miss Semper's dresses. But in fact, Lady Juniper was prepared to do something about it, which was far kinder.

"I would be much gratified, Lady Juniper," Miss Semper said. "I feel I do not have a particular eye for such things."

Lady Juniper nodded graciously. "It is no trouble at all. Though, do not be too shocked if Madame Lissette burns that hat you wore on the barge."

Constance almost snorted with laughter. Once one got used to Lady Juniper's distinct brand of communication, it was rather delightful.

"Ah yes," Miss Semper said, "I knew of the regatta before coming to Town and so I'd asked the seamstress to make something with a maritime feel to it."

"She did not let you down," Lady Juniper said, "you could have set sail with Nelson."

With that, they all fairly collapsed in laughter.

After they had recovered themselves, Miss Semper said, "Lady Constance, may I ask about your own circumstances?"

Constance had not had any intention of revealing her true circumstances to anybody. However, these two ladies had begun to feel as real friends who could be trusted.

"Well, I will not put a particular number on it, but perhaps I come with a bit more than most people would think I do."

"Except Lord Bramley, apparently," Lady Juniper said. She turned to Miss Semper. "Lady Constance was also invited onto Lord Bramley's barge."

"Oh I see, so he somehow knows of your circumstances. More than other people do," Miss Semper said.

"That is just what I do not know," Constance said. "I do not see how he could, and yet, I cannot be certain he does not. I rather like him, but I am not certain I should like him. He's sent me daffodils, which I thought was charming."

"Ah, he says that he regards you," Miss Semper said. "I have never received flowers; I suppose I would be all aflutter if I did."

"Do not get too aflutter, Miss Semper," Lady Juniper counseled. "There are gentlemen in this town who send flowers flying in every direction. Lord Gerard sent me red roses. The man is eighty if he is a day; I expect passionate love would be the death of him. In any case, if there were a flower that said "I adore your dowry," I am certain he would have sent that."

"Do you suppose that is what Lord Bramley is doing? Pretending at regard?" Miss Semper asked.

"That is what I do not know," Constance admitted. "Is his regard true, or is it something else?"

"We've got to smoke him out, then," Lady Juniper said. "We've got to get to the bottom of it."

Constance very much agreed, though she had not the first idea of how to get to the bottom of it.

"Shall we ask him?" Miss Semper said. "Just march up to him and take him unawares?"

"While I admire your audacity in thinking of it," Lady Juniper said, "I believe we will need to be more crafty to get at the truth."

"Crafty? Oh dear, I do not imagine I am very good at crafty," Miss Semper said.

Constance did not imagine she was very crafty herself, but she was beginning to have a lot of faith in Lady Juniper's abilities.

The lady tapped her chin. "I do not suppose that whatever your number is, Lady Constance, that you come with more than I do. No, I bring fifteen thousand. That amount, or more than that, would be impossible to hide."

Constance did not confirm or deny that theory. She did come with more, but it was not necessary to say so.

"If Lord Bramley is the fortune hunter we fear he is, he will go for the highest amount he can get, which is me."

Constance was entirely confused. Did Lady Juniper imply she would wed Lord Bramley? It was a sickening thought. And then, how would it even be accomplished? The lady had made her disdain well understood.

Of course, that could not be the case. She'd just explained she planned to wed Mr. Witherington. What was the case, though?

"I see you wonder about it, Lady Constance. I can make myself pleasant when I have a mind to. All I need do is invent some excuse for my prior demeanor, pretend I am bowled over by the man, and then, if he proposes, I denounce him. If he does not take the bait, then you have your answer."

It was a mad plan. But then, at least it was a plan.

"Would you go to so much trouble on my behalf?" Constance asked.

"Of course I would. We ladies must stick together. After all, what else do we have? We have no real power but for the steadfastness we show each other."

Constance had not ever thought of things in that way, but Lady Juniper was right. Ladies must support one another. And these ladies were true friends, she was sure of it.

"Gracious, it will be like a game of cat and mouse," Miss Semper said. "Oh I do hope Lord Bramley comes through it and is not a fortune hunter."

Constance could not agree more. Let him come through it.

"Bramley is an interesting case," Lady Juniper said. "On the one hand, he did set out to have us all three on that barge and it is too coincidental that we all come with significant amounts. On the other hand, if he's planning to overcome our sensibilities with charm, he's not very good at it."

Constance did not fully understand that point. One of the things that frightened her was that he was very good at it. But then, to each his own, she supposed.

They discussed their plan further, Lady Juniper claiming she could arrange for them all to sit together at Lady Thurston's poetical tableau. Lady Thurston was long known to her from her own neighborhood and would happily oblige. If Lord Bramley was out hunting fortunes, he would attend to find the three richest ladies in London all conveniently together in one spot.

After those arrangements were finalized, Lady Juniper determined she would send a note to her modiste this very day and would bring the lady to Miss Semper's house on the morrow. Madame Lissette, Lady Juniper said, would drop what she was doing to attend her.

Constance imagined everybody who knew Lady Juniper would drop what they were doing when summoned. She was such a determined lady.

After they'd had their fill of biscuits and cakes, an odd scene unfolded. Lady Juniper nodded to the footman. He, in turn, motioned with his hand at the dogs. At this signal, the dogs formed a very polite line to receive a bit of biscuit from their mistress.

Heavens, even Lady Juniper's dogs did not dare to step out of line.

The last thing that was accomplished was the naming of their friendship, which Lady Juniper explained was a necessity for any serious endeavor. After Miss Semper suggested Three Peas in a Pod and Lady Juniper hinted that the name might not describe their seriousness of purpose, they settled on The Stalwarts. Constance had the idea that Lady Juniper had kept that name in her pocket, at the ready for just such an opportunity.

Constance was very glad to have met two such ladies. It felt as if she'd been bobbing round the ocean alone and had just been swept into the safety of a sturdy rescue boat.

Whatever was the truth about Lord Bramley, The Stalwarts would find it out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mr. Wilburn had got the message he'd dreaded ever receiving during his own matchmaking season—an emergency meeting had been called by The League.

Why? Why had Mr. Penny called it?

He felt red creep up his cheeks like a rising tide as he recalled how delighted he'd been to receive the call to an emergency meeting last season. What sort of scrape had Mr. Harkinson fallen into? He'd been delighted to go and find out, though careful to look suitably grave when he got there.

Were they all delighted now? Over what? What had he fallen into unawares?

He hurried up the stairs to their club headquarters. He was late, as Lord Wisterley had held him up with the planning of a dinner. The earl was determined to have Lady Juniper, Miss Semper, and their respective relations to dine.

He'd finally got out of the house by pretending that the note that had been sent by Mr. Penny was from his old aunt—that decrepit lady who did not exist, but who was his perennial excuse for requiring Thursday afternoons off. According to Mr. Wilburn, the lady had written that she'd fallen down a flight of stairs and did very poorly.

If he was not mistaken, Lord Wisterley harbored secret hopes that this latest tumble would finish the lady off.

He found the other members of the league already seated and with teacups in hand.

They looked worryingly somber.

"Do sit down, Mr. Wilburn," Mr. Penny said kindly, "you appear out of your breath."

Mr. Wilburn sat down gratefully and poured himself a cup of tea. "I apologize for my tardiness. I think we all know, gentlemen, how a lord might waylay one at an inopportune time."

Naturally, they all nodded. It happened all too often, as lords and ladies seemed unaware that there were any schedules in the world but their own.

"We ought to get started," Mr. Browning said. "These unexpected outings always do prompt curiosity in our households."

Mr. Rennington nodded vigorously. "That housekeeper stared at me something terrible as I put on my coat. It was like she knows something!"

They all ignored that statement. Mr. Rennington lived in terror of his housekeeper. Though, if someone must live in terror, he should have made certain that she lived in terror of him. It was a very unfortunate situation.

"Now," Mr. Penny said, "I never did think it would be me calling one of these unexpected meetings, as I so little like to discompose anybody, but the information that came to me this morning left me with no other recourse."

What had Lord Bramley done? There had been no news of anything untoward going on this morning. If there had been, surely he would have heard it—Lord Wisterley leaned toward the loud side of things. Very little happened that he did not hear by standing outside the drawing room doors or at the sideboard in the breakfast room.

The only thing he'd heard of this morning was the countess had bought a slew of things from a haberdasher, the bill had come in, it was shockingly high, and the countess was forced to explain that it was the way of the world.

"It seems," Mr. Penny said, "that there was an alarming meeting yesterday between Lady Juniper, Miss Semper, and Lady Constance."

"Alarming, Mr. Penny?" Mr. Harkinson said, glancing at Mr. Wilburn with a look of quiet satisfaction.

It seemed that now Mr. Harkinson had got through his own more than alarming run at matchmaking, the fellow was delighted to hear "alarming" associated with somebody else's efforts.

Mr. Penny nodded. "Alarming, Mr. Harkinson. One of Lady Juniper's footmen is brother to one of my own and communicated what transpired at this gathering. It seems they've formed a cabal of sorts."

"A cabal!" Mr. Feldstaffer cried. "That is the very worst sort of gathering."

Mr. Wilburn was often dismissive of Mr. Feldstaffer's grim opinions and dire predictions, but in this case he was right. A cabal was the worst sort of gathering.

Why? What could three young ladies require a cabal for?

"Indeed," Mr. Penny said. "It seems they are suspicious of Lord Bramley."

"Suspicious?" Mr. Wilburn said. "What do they have to be suspicious about? Lord Bramley is not suspicious!"

"The suspicion is about the regatta," Mr. Penny said. "It seems they found it suspicious that both Lady Juniper and Miss Semper were on the barge, they both coming with hefty dowries."

Mr. Wilburn blanched. That had been his idea. He dearly hoped Lord Wisterley would never find out that it had made those two ladies suspicious!

"And then," Mr. Penny continued, "they somehow understood that Lady Constance had been invited too and it seemed even more suspicious."

"That makes no sense," Mr. Browning said. "Everybody knows that Lady Constance only comes with three thousand. Her having been invited should have thrown their suspicions to the wind."

"But apparently," Mr. Penny said, "Lady Juniper and Miss Semper think otherwise regarding the lady's dowry. Lady Constance herself hinted that she might come with more, though she would not say a number."

Mr. Wilburn put his teacup down with a clatter. "She pretends to be a great heiress, then?"

"She has at least hinted at it," Mr. Penny said.

"Pretending is always a very bad business," Mr. Feldstaffer pointed out.

"I cannot think why Lady Constance would pretend at having more than she does," Mr. Rennington said.

Of course Mr. Rennington could not think why. He was so taken up with worrying over his housekeeper that he could not think of much!

"I am afraid she means to trap Lord Bramley in some manner," Mr. Wilburn said. "If she believes that Lady Juniper and Miss Semper were invited onto the barge for their fortunes, and now she claims she has one…what else could it be?"

"Very bad business, that," Mr. Feldstaffer muttered.

Mr. Wilburn sighed. He hardly needed to be told it was a bad business!

"There is more, I'm afraid," Mr. Penny said.

Mr. Wilburn resisted the urge to put his head in his hands.

"It seems they've named this cabal they've formed," Mr. Penny said. "They call themselves The Stalwarts, and they intend on doing something."

"Doing something!" Mr. Feldstaffer said, mopping his brow.

"Doing what?" Mr. Harkinson said.

Mr. Penny shifted on his chair. "I do not know. Apparently, the footman listening to all this was distracted by an old hound who was making himself amusing in the garden."

"An amusing hound?" Mr. Wilburn said. "I've never heard of such a thing."

Mr. Penny nodded sadly. "Nor I, Mr. Wilburn. Apparently, Lady Juniper has above ten dogs wandering her garden and some of them are thought to be amusing."

The gentlemen fell to silence, each considering the idea of more than ten dogs in one's garden and anybody thinking that was amusing.

"Let us forget the aberration of an overabundance of canines," Mr. Browning advised. "How shall we proceed now that we have this information?"

"I believe," Mr. Penny said, "that we can have no firm direction until we have more information. That is perhaps the direction—getting more information. We should understand what it is they propose to do before knowing what we ought to do."

Mr. Wilburn sighed. It was so like Mr. Penny to avoid rash action, even when rash action was required.

"I am afraid, Mr. Penny," he said, "that I must disagree on that point. What we must do is prevent Lady Constance from tricking Lord Bramley. He likes the lady, if he were to believe that she comes with a fortune, well…"

"I see…" Mr. Browning said thoughtfully. "And Lord Wisterley is determined that his son should bring an infusion to the estate. If they were to be somehow deluded into thinking…"

"Is Lord Wisterley only wishing for a sizable dowry," Mr. Harkinson said, "or is it necessary to keep them afloat? I do not believe you said."

Mr. Wilburn would like to kick Mr. Harkinson's leg. So far, he had managed to delicately work round the idea that a large fortune was not just wished for, but must be had.

Now, everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to answer.

"It is necessary, I believe," he mumbled.

"Oh dear," Mr. Penny said.

"Well!" Mr. Browning said. "These things happen to the best families. There is no point in wondering how or why. If Lady Constance is claiming a fortune she does not possess, then we must stop it in its tracks before the lady brings everybody to the brink of disaster, herself included."

"Oh yes," Mr. Feldstaffer said. "Can you just imagine when the contracts are drawn up—that's when the hammer would fall. The mysterious fortune would go up in a puff of smoke and so would Lady Constance."

"How, though?" Mr. Wilburn asked. "How do we stop it in its tracks?"

"To my mind, we simply need an idea," Mr. Penny said.

Mr. Wilburn stared at him. Of course they needed an idea. What else would they need? A cigar?

They fell to silence, each concentrating on thinking up an idea.

Though the meeting went on for a further half hour, it was a half hour mostly filled with silence and sighs. None of them had the first idea how to stop whatever was in the works with Lady Constance.

Mr. Penny concluded by saying that surely they would think of something soon.

Mr. Feldstaffer had replied that he thought that highly unlikely.

Mr. Wilburn, himself, did not know if it were likely or not. All he did know was that it was necessary.

They had to think of something. The Stalwarts, and whatever harebrained plot they'd devised, must be stopped!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mr. Frederick Ludwig had informed his father, Baron Finster, of the large and apparently secret inheritance received by the Countess of DeWitton from Mr. Harold Canbury of New York. It was lucky he had that bait to offer, as the old man had been irate by the lack of success of his business dealings in that town.

They'd done some digging and came upon the delightful fact that the countess had a daughter of age, and that daughter was out in society for her first season. Supposedly, she only came with three thousand, so the countess and her family were intending on keeping the secret of their windfall.

They had high hopes Lady Constance was the worst looking lady alive and there would be nobody interested in her and her supposedly middling dowry. Mr. Ludwig would employ his considerable charm and they'd all be right as rain again.

There had never been any other year that the baron had accepted an invitation to Lady Thurston's poetical tableau. What the lady named poetry was really just a cataloguing of her grievances. The baron claimed if he wished to hear a wife complaining about a husband he could very well just stay home. He accepted this year, though.

Through their various connections, they understood Lady DeWitton was long known to Lady Thurston and was sure to be there, daughter in tow.

As well, they were all uncomfortably aware that they could not be everywhere that Lady Constance might appear. They did not have the pull to receive an Almack's voucher, or an invitation from the prince, or other such elevated invitations. They both hated and revered society on account of it, despising and longing for the club that only allowed them to stand on the peripheries. With enough money, though, they could work their way up and into the most exclusive places. Then they would peer down their noses at those less elevated and slam doors in faces.

As their carriage rumbled to Lady Thurston's house, the baron said, "Let all the other unmarried gentlemen circle round Lady Juniper Croydon and that Semper girl as the biggest prizes going. We will swim straight toward the biggest fish, with none the wiser."

Mr. Ludwig nodded. He must just land that biggest fish on the banks of his father's estate. Then, when the time came to negotiate a marriage settlement, he would press for more, far more, than the measly three thousand DeWitton advertised.

They'd hand it over too, because if they didn't their daughter would be shamed at an engagement called off. If he had to, he'd resort to threats. Perhaps he'd threaten to put it about that the engagement was called off because the lady was found compromised?

That idea would put some starch into Lord DeWitton's cravat.

"Here we are," the baron said, "turn on the charm."