Читать книгу The Electrifying Exploits of the English Three - Elysabeth Williams - Страница 7

Chapter 3

Noon arrived, and Eliza rolled over in bed. She ran her hand over the sheets, still wrinkled from the visitor who’d shared it with her. Stretching her body, she relished its soreness. She smiled at the fond memories of the one involved. She could get used to the baron being around, even if it was to “fill in the gaps,” as he’d said.

She snickered to herself. It had been quite some time since she’d enjoyed a man’s attentions. There was something to say about a grand seduction with sharp wit and genuine feeling, as opposed to just being the dutiful wife. She longed for what had transpired the evening before with Silas, yet knew it was quite out of her reach–which saddened her. Companionship was paramount in her life–not only with males, but with friends in general. She kept up with them as much as possible.

She sat up, mentally cataloging the extent of her exhaustion and began to dress. Someone banged furiously at the door. She rushed to pin her hair and bounded down the staircase. As Eliza flung the door open, Miriam practically ran into her.

“Rumors have already surfaced about how Baron Willoughby was in your presence last night.”

“Which warrants my interest...how?” Eliza propped her hand on her hip. “Tell me, what exactly are they saying about town?”

Miriam pushed past her and shut the door. “They saw him leave his house last evening, quite late, yet still not late enough for all the other musicale attendees to have made it home. The same people saw him leave your home–oh, just a few hours past.”

“They sure are nosy gits.” Eliza crossed her arms.

“Yes, they are, but too much attention could hamper our extracurricular activities. I wish you would take it into consideration next time. Start later, and pitch him out before sun-up at the very least.”

“I know. I shall pay more attention from now on. I was asleep when he left.”

“I don’t even want to know, my friend. I hope it was worth it.”

The corner of Eliza’s mouth turned up in a grin. “Very well.”

“Oh, that reminds me–what did the good colonel say in his last missive?”

“I thought I’d wait and explain once Jillian arrived.”

“Fine idea,” Miriam agreed.

“Would you care for tea?” Eliza asked, walking toward the kitchen.

“Do you have anything stronger?” Miriam rubbed her temples. “I cannot ease this headache.”

“Yes, of course.”

Eliza opened a cabinet, removed a glass and copper contraption, and placed it on the counter. She returned to the cabinet and retrieved a cloth bag of beans and another cast-iron coffee grinder. She ground the beans, placed a handful in the top of the copper half, and poured a pitcher of water over the grounds Placing a teacup under a small silver spout to one side, she turned a crank on the opposite side, bringing the machine to life. Steam spat out the top for a few moments as the women waited. Soon, fresh coffee filled the glass container and poured out the side into the fine china.

“Splendid,” Miriam said while adding two sugar cubes. “Where did you procure this thing? I must have one.”

“It’s but another extremely useful gift from our colonel. He’s sending an automatic grinder soon. It should shorten the process even more.”

“Outstanding.”

The front bell chimed. Eliza excused herself to admit a harried Jillian. She offered her cape to Eliza, muttering incoherently under her breath about the neighbors.

“What is it, Jillian?”

“Your neighbors are the nosiest people in the city.”

“I could have told you that.” She chuckled, hanging the cape on the coat rack and walking back into the kitchen with Miriam. “What have they said or done now?”

“I assume Miriam has already advised you of their recent rumor-mongering.”

“Indeed she has. I hope it doesn’t sully the baron’s good name.”

“I’m ever so surprised his name isn’t already sullied, Eliza. Let’s not forget this man is a rake,” Jillian replied, helping herself to the freshly brewed coffee.

“I cannot forget much of anything about him.” She sighed, retiring to the parlor. The two women followed her and sat.

“Does he have an interesting past?” Miriam asked, looking between both of them.

“As far as I know, when he first came to London, he tended to carouse the same haunts as my father. Then for some reason, he disappeared from the scene for a time. When he came back, he seemed to change.” Jillian shrugged. “But who knows what that means when it comes to men.”

“Was it everything we all hoped it would be?” Miriam smirked at Eliza, sipping her coffee.

“It was everything and then some.” Eliza sighed and closed her eyes.

“Spare us details, please,” Jillian begged. “Let’s discuss Colonel Cuthbert’s letter. What did it say?”

Eliza reached over to the side table, picked up the paper, handed it to Jillian to inspect, and looked toward Miriam. “I already explained a few details to Jillian last night, but it appears Countess Wilmont has again lost her mind. She wants to eradicate the Tower Bridge. We are to stop her.”

“The Tower Bridge? It just opened. The paint is barely dry. Why would she want to destroy it?” Miriam asked as Jillian handed her the note.

“She’s insane.” Jillian waved her hand.

“Wait, wasn’t she the one who tried to burn down Parliament because it smelled like day-old fish?” Miriam asked.

“One and the same.” Eliza laughed, shaking her head. “There were no details as to her motive this time, but I plan to find out–and expect it to be complete insane drivel. Are you ladies up to the challenge? If so, I shall send a response to the colonel this afternoon.”

“Do we know when the countess is planning to carry out this nonsense?” Jillian asked.

“No. I say we send word to the colonel. We can keep an eye out on her to start, and await details as we monitor,” Miriam suggested.

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Eliza agreed. Jillian nodded as well.

“So, beyond stopping the mad countess from decimating a perfectly good bridge, what else is on the agenda?”

“Silas Willoughby is holding the end of season ball at his London residence soon,” Eliza said blandly.

“Is it ball time again already? Unrelated, have you not seen enough of him?” Jillian slapped her friend on the knee.

“Never.” Eliza smirked. Jillian laughed. Eliza looked at her from the corner of her eye and changed the subject. “Let’s discuss a Mr. Devin Dashing, shall we?”

“Ugh, let’s not. The man stares. It’s rude.” Jillian looked sour.

“It’s endearing,” Miriam scoffed.

“It’s stalking prey,” Jillian retorted, rolling her eyes.

“Precisely!” Eliza laughed.

“Did he speak at all after your performance last night?”

“Briefly,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t understand the man. He’s as verbose as the pope at Christmas Mass.”

It was Miriam’s turn to roll her eyes. “Tell him to shut his mouth and kiss you.”

“I suppose shutting one’s mouth and then kissing them would be a trifle difficult–but it could be managed,” Eliza pondered.

“Oh, do behave, Eliza. I don’t see Mr. Dashing in that manner.”

“Perhaps you should see him in that manner–and in a few different manners as well. He obviously cares enough about your attentions to jaw away incessantly,” Eliza said, smiling to herself.

“Psh.” Jillian looked at Miriam. “Save me from her taunts.”

“Jump him. Save yourself,” she replied, dryly.

“I never!” Jillian scoffed.

“We know!” The other two sputtered as they fell into peals of laughter.

After the trio settled down, the questions arose again.

“Do you think the countess will travel to the city to attend the ball?” Miriam asked.

Eliza shrugged. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her out since the beginning of the season.”

“Then it’s high time for her to be seen. Perhaps we can at least inquire on her schedule discreetly,” Jillian offered.

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Eliza concurred.

After exhausting both the coffee and other topics, Miriam stood to leave. “Ladies, as always it has been a pleasure. I’ll see you later in the week, if not sooner.” She gathered her cape and donned it, waving as she left.

“I suppose I should leave too.” Jillian sighed, looking at the large grandfather clock in the hallway. She rose to gather her things and walked to the door.

“All right. Keep me informed of any happenings, if there are any, between now and the ball. I want to keep Colonel Cuthbert abreast of all the details.”

“Of course,” Jillian said. She patted her reticule, which contained the small communications device. “I shall ring you with anything pressing.” She left the townhouse and waved behind her as she headed for her waiting carriage.

“Very well, I shall do the same,” Eliza said, waving and closing the door.

She turned to the empty and now hollow-sounding house. This was the worst part: being alone after her friends left. Although she usually enjoyed the solitude compared to the hatred or generally abysmal attitude of her husband’s presence, it still hurt to find herself without the uproarious echoes of laughter or–as last night, the decadent moans of passion.

Eliza sighed and returned to the parlor. She grabbed a book from a shelf, flopped unceremoniously on the chaise lounge, and delved into someone else’s life–anything to avoid hers for just a brief moment longer. She knew to prepare for the next formal ball, she would need all the boring downtime she could manage.