On the Way to a Wedding, Ch 2 (part 2)

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters (to previous Harriet and the Colonel stories) here.

For two days after their tete-a-tete in the garden, Harriet and Samantha made the trip to the village to see and be seen, but most importantly to talk and listen to those they met.

As far as the two ladies knew from these excursions, there were three men who were not at their country estates as would be their normal wont. One had gone to visit his brother who had suffered an accident while riding. Another had inherited a second small estate and was seeing to the setting up of things there. And the third was in London overseeing the remodeling of his townhouse.

All seemed perfectly reasonable reasons to stray from the normal pattern of things. However, that was the best way to cover one’s true intent when one did not wish for that intent to be discovered.

But was that not what she and Samantha had been doing, Harriet thought as the two of them settled into the drawing room at home for an afternoon of sewing. With any luck today would prove to be beneficial to ferret out which fellow was attempting to cover his nefarious business.

A carriage had been spotted in the driveway twenty minutes ago, so it was no surprise when guests were announced.

“Mrs. Cooper, Miss Cooper, it is lovely to see you. Did the ribbon you purchased match your dress as you wished it to do?” Harriet said in greeting as her guests took their seats.

Mrs. Cooper was known for her dedication to all things newsworthy, and so, Samantha, being the excellent sister that she was, had made certain to let the lady know that Harriet would soon be returning to town to finalize wedding preparations.

“Oh, it is perfection!” said Mrs. Cooper. “I dare say Audrey is going to be very sought after in town this season, for she will be well turned out.”

“That is excellent news,” Harriet replied, though she really was not interested in what sort of fashionable clothing Miss Cooper had procured for her wardrobe – or that is to say, she was not overly interested. She was a lady, after all, and did enjoy beautiful clothing. However, she had a mission to complete, and information that would aid her in the completion of her task was of more interest. Therefore, these mundane topics of conversation were necessary.

“I do hope she will be as successful as you have been,” Mrs. Cooper added with a smile before turning to Samantha, who was embellishing a baby bonnet. “I see the lace you purchased is being put to good use.”

Harriet utilized this turn in the conversation to request that lemonade and seed cakes be brought in.

“Yes, it is,” her sister replied. “And I do think that my husband will not mind it even if this child is a boy.” Samantha chuckled softly. “Julian loves a fine piece of lace on one of my dresses, but he has little tolerance for any such adornments on little boys’ gowns. He is the youngest of four you see, and his older siblings were all girls. He was just as handsome then as he is now, and resembles his sisters so greatly, that if you were to take away his mature features and build and replace it with something softer – as a young boy usually is – and allow his hair to grow and curl as it is most naturally wishes to do, you can likely understand his misgivings about his son being mistaken for a daughter.”

“Did that happen to him often when he was young?” Miss Cooper asked.

“Until he was breeched, and even after that, he often heard comments about how he was just as pretty as his sisters – who, by the by, are beautiful.”

“Well, then, it is very understandable that he would stress that there is a difference in some fashion, whether it be colour or the number of ruffles and amount of lace,” Mrs. Cooper said. “My husband has never concerned himself with anything our children wear. He leaves that entirely up to me. Indeed, I am often asked to recommend colours to him when he is ordering a suit of clothes.” She smiled softly. “He does not see colour as we do.”

“Oh, indeed!” her daughter cried. “But then, my brother is the same. At one time, I thought all boys saw things wrong when I was a girl, but that is not true. I know that now.” She paused as the refreshments were brought in. “You know, Mother, it was a maid who first heard me say that boys do not see things right and corrected me.”

“Is that so? You never mentioned that to me before. Was it one of our maids?”

Miss Cooper nodded. “Her name was Muriel.”

Mrs. Cooper gasped. “I remember her.” She looked at Harriet and Samantha and lowered her voice. “She was not with us long. She was a little too friendly with some of my son Ambrose’s friends.” She shook her head. “She was quite pretty so her attentions were not easily turned away for some young men.”

“Did you dismiss her?” Samantha whispered.

“We did. I will not tolerate such things in my home.”

“That is understandable.” And commendable, Harriet added to herself. “Do you know if she found another position?” She asked this as she made certain that everyone had both lemonade and a seed cake.

Mrs. Cooper sighed. “I heard she eventually went to London with the (family name). Why they would hire a maid who was known to cavort with the gentlemen of the house, I do not know. But then, their son and that one friend of Ambrose’s were known philanderers, so I should not be surprised. Oh, what was his name?”

That was interesting as Mr. (name) was the fellow who was, presently, in town and not at his estate. But that could be a coincidence.

“Was it the dangerously charming fellow?” her daughter asked.

“It was indeed,” her mother replied.

“I was only twelve at the time,” she explained to her hosts. “But even at that age, I could tell that he was far too charming, but my he was handsome. I dare say I have never seen any other gentleman who was as handsome as he was.” She sighed. “He was quite the dandy. A dandy named George something or other. I remember thinking his name was rather regal and fit him as the king of the charmers.” She laughed lightly.

“You do not remember his surname?” Harriet pressed.

She shook her head. “I do not. I think it started with a W or V maybe? I really could not say with any certainty, however. I just remember scribbling his initials on a scrap of paper and the last letter was one of the pointy ones. I never liked how I formed them, you see.”

And with that, Harriet knew she had found the piece of information she needed, but she could not let on to that fact, now, could she? So instead of smiling broadly and looking pointedly at her sister as she wished to do, she said, “It is not really important what his name is. For I do not need to worry about whether or not to accept a dance from him this season, and you would know him to see him, so you are safe as well.”

“Oh, indeed, I would avoid him if I saw him,” Miss Cooper assured Harriet.

“That is excellent to know. When will you be making the trip to town?” Samantha said, deftly steering the conversation in a less exciting and more mundane direction.

All the Harriet and the Colonel stories such as On the Way to a Wedding are Oxford Cottage companion stories.

On the Way to a Wedding, Ch 2 (part 1)

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters (to previous Harriet and the Colonel stories) here.

Edmund was gone. He had been gone for two days now. By now, he had likely met Richard along the way and was soon going to discover the information that Wickham thought he possessed.

Harriet had never met this Wickham fellow. Truth be told, she was not certain she cared to meet him. Although…

“What are you planning?” Samantha asked when Harriet accidentally gave away the fact that she was pondering with a small “hmm.”

Harriet directed the two of them to the right of the pool with the fountain, since the path along which they had been strolling along required them to turn one direction or another.

“I am not planning anything other than a wedding,” she replied.

Next to her, her sister laughed knowingly. “I believe all you have left to do on that front is make sure your dress fits when you return to town.”

Yes, well, that was true. There was very little left to be done. She knew the menu for, as well as the songs which she wished to have played at, her wedding breakfast. She had contracted with the appropriate people to have flowers sent and arranged, and she had written up all the schedules for what needed preparation and when.

“I have not packed all my things.”

“And for that, you have servants,” Samantha replied. “So, allow me to repeat myself: What are you planning?”

Harriet sighed. “I truly am not planning anything. I am merely pondering a certain situation.” It was a situation that had taken over much of her quiet time – frustrating her with its seemingly unanswerable questions.

“Does this certain situation include a particularly awful man who kidnapped the colonel’s cousin?” her sister asked. Of course, Samantha would know what Harriet was thinking about. She had nearly always been able to decipher what Harriet was thinking.

“Yes. Something just does not feel right, and there is no way for me to feel less unsettled when questions have not been answered. Or at least, when those answers have not been shared with me.” She huffed. This was all too similar to how she had felt after Andrew’s death.

“You found Andrew’s watch,” Samantha said quietly as if, once again, she knew what her sister was thinking. “Remember that,” she added firmly. “Edmund and his men did not find it. You did. And they gave you no information about it. You did it on your own.” She bumped Harriet’s shoulder with her own. “Do you really need their answers?”

Harriet could not help smiling at that. “It would make it easier.” But was it necessary? Was there truly a way for her to discover useful information from here? And not town? With only the bits she knew? And not with the full scope of information her brother had?

“So what are we planning?” Samantha whispered conspiratorially as they entered the cool shade of the folly, which had been their objective when setting out on their garden stroll.

“We are not planning anything,” Harriet said with a laugh as she took a seat on the settee that was tucked in the back of the folly where it would be sheltered from the weather. “You are far too pregnant to be taking part in schemes.”

Samantha placed her hands on her hips – or the side of her belly, it was rather hard to tell these days where Samantha’s every growing baby began and ended – and scowled down at her younger sister before taking a seat, none too gracefully, next to her. “I will have you know that I am not going to let you carry out whatever plan you concoct without my help. Edmund expects me to see to your care while he is gone.”

“I do not need a nursemaid,” Harriet protested. She pulled her feet up under her and turned sideways on the bench so she could look at her sister while they spoke.

“Perhaps not, but I do need the practise being a mother hen.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “I think you are well prepared for motherhood on that front. I have made certain of it for you for years now.”

“So then, do not push me aside now. Please.” Samantha sighed. “Our lives are going to change so much in a few months. I will be a mother, and you will be a wife. Let us attempt to enjoy a few weeks this summer of just being sisters.” She patted her belly. “Even if I must bring this little one along on our adventures.”

“Julian would kill me if he knew I allowed you to take part in anything that might in some way be remotely dangerous, and Edmund would assist him.”

“Then, we will not do anything dangerous.” She bit her lip the way she had always done when they were young and she had an idea that she thought was clever. “I am quite certain that taking tea, making calls, and doing a bit of shopping are not overly dangerous.”

A furrow formed between Harriet’s eyebrows. “How will that help me figure out what I need to know?”

“And Edmund thinks you are the clever one,” Samantha teased. “What do we women do best when taking tea and making calls and shopping? We talk and listen.”

Harriet sucked in a quick breath as a smile spread across her face. Why yes! That was how she had finally discovered Andrew’s watch, was it not?

“And what we hear is not the same as what a group of men would hear in a tavern or over a game of cards, now is it?” her sister continued.

A thrilling shiver raced up Harriet’s spine and down her arms. It was brilliant. How had she not considered that? Of course, what women talked about was different from what men did. It was entirely possible that someone might have a story about some fellow who was not at his home during the summer as he normally was or some such thing, would they not?

“In fact,” Samantha said, “I believe we have spent enough days at home as of late. I find a change of scenery would be most beneficial, and I would love to procure a few embellishments for some of my motherly projects, as well as for the dress I plan to wear to your wedding. And I am certain there must be some items left for you to add to your trousseau. If there are not, we can invent a project or two.”

Harriet clapped her hands in delight. “I do love how clever you are.”

“I dare say I am nearly as clever as you,” she said with a laugh. “Now tell me, what information do we hope to discover?”

Much can be accomplished with the proper strategy and the right incentive -- a quote from Oxford Cottage written over the blurred image of chess pieces on a chess board — All the Harriet and the Colonel stories such as On the Way to a Wedding are Oxford Cottage companion stories.

On the Way to a Wedding, Ch 1 (part 2)

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters (to previous Harriet and the Colonel stories) here.

Chapter 1 (Part 2)

“How so?” Edmund asked with no little amount of interest. Indeed, at the moment, her brother looked to be as interested as Harriet felt. It was quite the change from his normal feigned look of nonchalance in the face of something of interest. Perhaps the country was beginning to bore him just as it was her.

“As you know, we have not caught the traitor we seek, and Wickham believes he can succeed where we have failed. He has told me in confidence that he has information that could be helpful, but he is unwilling to reveal what he knows without some guarantee of protection.” Samuels leaned back in his chair. “For how many months have we circled around and around with what we know? We have visited places and spoken to people but with little progress.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I have begun to think we may be doing more harm than good.”

“Are you concerned that your activity may drive the person we seek into deeper hiding,” Harriet said.

Samuels nodded. “We have been careful, but it is anyone’s guess whether the care we have taken is enough or not.”

“It should be,” Edmund said.

“But there is a chance that it is not – especially recently,” Samuels said. “Wickham has been with us on several occasions, and he is not unknown in many of the places we have visited.”

One of Harriet’s eyebrows arched of its own accord at that. Samuels had every reason to be concerned if that were the case, for it begged the question of if they were truly searching for some unknown agent, or if they were leading the villain around and around on some merry chase that would never end. Simply because he was the one helping create the chase.

“How do we know that Wickham is not the traitor?” she asked.

Both her brother and Samuels turned to her in surprise.

“He did help procure some of the maids who ended up carrying information across the channel, did he not?” she added.

“He did,” her brother agreed. “And I suppose we do not know that he is not the traitor.” He shook his head. “That being said, it is unlikely since he was not disposed of when he was first captured.”

Harriet pressed her lips together. She was not as convinced by that fact as her brother sounded to be.

“That is a good sign,” Samuels said while holding Harriet’s gaze as if he knew she was questioning exactly what she was questioning. “But not conclusive.”

Perhaps he did know what she had been thinking.

“Wickham is not a stupid fellow,” he continued, “but I do not think he has the skill or the blunt to be the person for whom we are looking.”

“Then, why is he just now offering information?” There was something not right with this situation. Harriet could not put her finger on what it was, but there was a small battalion of butterflies dancing in her stomach. And that was a sure sign that something was off.

A smile curled Samuels lips, and his eyes danced as if where chuckling to himself. “He claims that he pieced the information together after our last card game at a particular tavern. It was something he had suspected for a while, but he did not want to say anything until he could have more than a feeling on which to base his conclusions.” Samuels shrugged. “I know he is a questionable informant, but he is the one we have been saddled with.”

“What does the colonel say –?”

“I came to you first.” Samuels answered before Edmund could finish his question. “He will be back in London in three days. You will not be unless your plans change.”

Edmund’s eyebrows rose. “Will you be back in London soon?”

“If we follow the lead Wickham has, it appears we will be. But then, we knew that, eventually, we might end up there or further south. The paths we have traversed up here all seem to point to town – just as we expected them to do.”

“Then, you do not think that whomever we are looking for is in the country for the summer?” Harriet asked.

Samuels shook his head. “Not any longer.”

“He is not at his estate?” Edmund asked.

“Who is not at his estate?” Harriet asked.

Her brother laughed. “Do you mean to tell me that there is something about this case that you have not yet deduced?”

Harriet’s head tipped as a thought struck her. “You were canvassing Derbyshire because Wickham is from there. There was no other reason for it. That is the piece of information that directed you north this summer.”

Samuels inclined his head indicating that her reasoning was correct. “Very few know that. In fact, Wickham has no idea that we are attempting to follow all his connections.”

“Which is why he is known everywhere you go! And that makes it more difficult to keep secrets.”

“And it is why the colonel could not be included in our activities,” Samuels added. “We could not have him and Wickham seen together.”

Harriet chuckled. “That would be like lighting a beacon on a hill.”

“Indeed,” Edmund muttered before standing and pacing to the window and back. “If he is not in the country, then, there has to be a reason for him to be in town.”

“Who?” Harriet asked again.

Edmund only shook his head. “It is best if you do not know just yet.”

Harriet pressed her lips together once again. This time to keep an indignant retort to herself.

“We cannot ruin a man’s reputation without sufficient proof,” her brother added. “Therefore, the fewer who know his name…” He let the rest of the thought explain itself in Harriet’s mind.

Tarnishing the name of an innocent man had to be considered carefully. Harriet could not fault her brother for taking care with that. A reputation that was damaged – whether with cause or not – was a very hard thing to restore.

“I will meet the colonel on the road, so that he will know he is needed at Lillesley house,” Edmund said. “I know the inns he stops at along the way from Matlock to town.”

“How soon are we leaving?” Harriet asked as she rose from her chair.

“We are not leaving,” her brother said with some force. “I am leaving. You will not leave any earlier than planned. It is not unusual for a gentleman to go to town while the ladies stay in the country, but if we all up sticks and leave before expected, it would be noticed.”

Harriet sighed. He was right. And she hated that he was. It was enough to make her scowl and shake her head.

“If things can be arranged with our sister’s husband,” Edmund added in a gentler tone, “then, you may return to town a week early to see to some wedding preparations – at least, that will be the story we will put forward when anyone asks about your early departure.”

A quote from Oxford Cottage: "Carry them if you must. We must be hidden before daybreak." — All the Harriet and the Colonel stories such as On the Way to a Wedding are Oxford Cottage companion stories.

On the Way to a Wedding, Ch 1 (part 1)

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters (to previous Harriet and the Colonel stories) here.

Chapter 1 (part 1)

“Life is very dull in the country,” Harriet Philips complained to her sister, three-weeks after she had been allowed to help her brother and his men find a missing maid.

Samantha laughed. “Perhaps it is not as exciting here where there are no criminals to outsmart, but the air in the country is so much better than in town during the summer.” She rested a hand on her ever-growing abdomen. “And I am allowed to put my feet up without a pair of stockings in sight.” She wiggled her toes where her feet rested on a tufted footstool.

“I am quite certain that you could do that in town as well,” Harriet grumbled. “However, I will allow that the air in the country is better.” She rose and walked to the open window that faced south – the exact direction in which they would need to travel to return to town in two-week’s time or so.

“I am very glad that you were able to come to Papa’s estate for a time. Your being here does make things a trifle less dull.” She shot a mischievous smile over her shoulder at her sister. “But you truly can do so little now that you have decided to be a mother.”

Samantha clucked her tongue. “Just you wait, Miss Everything Should Be an Adventure, your time of feeling quite miserable and motherly are not so far off.”

“Is it truly dreadful?”

“Currently, yes because it is just so hot – or I am, at least,” her sister replied.

There was a breeze blowing through the window, but it was a warm summer day. Not overly hot, but undoubtedly warm.

“I declare this child is going to be just like his or her father.” Samantha continued. “Julian is always warm – even in the depths of winter. I am certain that is what is making me overly warm. I am carrying a human furnace.”

Harriet chuckled at that. “Do you wish to go for a walk in the grass? Or perhaps we could procure a large basin of water and sit in the shade with our feet in it?” She held up a finger to keep her sister from answering as she leaned forward to better see the rider who was approaching.

“What is it?” Samantha whispered as she placed her feet on the ground and pushed up from her chair.

“A rider.”

“Is it the Colonel returned from his visit to Hertfordshire?” Samantha crossed to the window to peer out it with her sister.

Harriet shook her head. “He will be returning from there to town.” And that was likely why she was finding it difficult to entertain herself for this past week. She missed Richard – more than she missed any sort of adventure.

“Perhaps it is a letter,” her sister offered.

“It could be that.” It was a hopeful thought that one of them might have something of interest to read and perhaps a bit of news to share with the other. “I think…” she leaned a bit further forward. “I think that is Samuels.”

“Who is Samuels?” Samantha asked.

“He frequents the little library at Lillesley house.” That was where her brother greeted all of the men who worked with him on covert assignments. She tipped her head. “But why is he alone. I thought he was supposed to be watching that Wickham fellow.”

“The horrible kidnapper?” Samantha whispered. There were things her sister was not supposed to know – but did. Who Wickham was and what he had done was one of those things.

But in truth, it was for Samantha’s safety that Harriet had shared a few details of what had happened in London before they had left. Edmund might carry around secrets that posed dangerous to his sisters, but Harriet would not. This was Samantha after all. The woman was capable of keeping a few names and details to herself.

“Yes.” Harriet moved toward the door to the sitting room. “We will require some refreshment for ourselves and our guest,” she said to the butler. “And please see that my brother is made aware that his presence is required in the drawing room. His office is far too stuffy at this time of day.”

“Why am I needed in the drawing room?” the very brother of whom she spoke said from the grand staircase.

“Did you not hear that we are to have a guest? And I am afraid there is no little library here.”

He frowned at her. “A guest?”

She nodded. “Do come down here so that we can speak more privately.” She could see him sigh. It was not a dramatic lifting and lowering of his shoulders, but they had risen and fallen.

“You do know that I am still the master of this house and my professional domain, do you not?” he grumbled when he had reached her.

“Of course, I do, but I am not about to make Samuels sit in your stuffy study when he has had to ride in the sun for who knows how long to get here.”

“Samuels is here?” Edmund hurried across the room to the window where Samantha was still standing.

Harriet allowed him to verify her words without saying anything. It was an impressive feat, if she did say so herself.

“We cannot speak freely here,” Edmund said with a tip of his head at Samantha.

“I can keep a secret,” Samantha said. “But if you prefer, I can take myself to my room. Truly, I would not mind at all, since I am not required to remain dressed there.” She wiggled the neckline of her gown as if trying to cool herself with it. “Yes,” she said very decidedly. “That is just what I need. I will go to my room and have a rest with a cool cloth and a tray of my very own refreshments.”

She gave her brother’s cheek a kiss and left the room.

“Mr. Wickham is not with him,” Harriet said as they stood watching Samuels dismount his horse.

“I noticed that. I am not blind, nor have I forgotten that he was assigned to Samuels.” He turned toward the door to the drawing room and waited for it to open. “I am sure Samuels will explain himself.”

“Good day, Lord Lillesley, Miss Philips,” Samuels said with a bow upon entering the room.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. We will have some refreshments soon.” Harriet took herself back to the chair she had abandoned out of boredom not so very long ago. “Edmund.” She motioned to the chair Samantha had been sitting in.

“I am rather dusty,” Samuels said.

“Well, that is a problem, but not one without a solution.” Harriet rose, retrieved a blanket from a sideboard, and handed it to the man. “This will be easier to clean than the chair.”

“Why do you have blankets in that cupboard?” Edmund asked.

“Because there is no little library,” Harriet replied. “And your study is stuffy at times.” She turned back to Samuels who was arranging the blanket on the chair before taking a seat. “Your companion did not join you?”

“You mean Wickham?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes.”

Samuels chuckled. “I was not about to bring him here. You and your brother might not mind it, but the colonel would be livid. But do not fear, I did not leave him unattended. However…” He was now seated, and leaned forward before speaking in a lower voice. “He is the reason I am here.”

The Colonel’s Lady, Ch. 5 (part 2)

Oops I forgot to share this earlier. I just discovered it when I as about to share the first part of the next story.

Find previous chapters here.

Chapter 5 (part 2)

Several hours later, as the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon, Richard settled once more into a chair in the small library at Lillesley House. The culprits had been rounded up and would soon be dealt with. The great house had been just as imposing as Richard had imagined it would be, and he now knew exactly who was at the helm of their organization.

“Thank you.” Lillesley broke the silence in the room. Richard settled further back into his chair. Lillesley was not speaking to him. This was for his sister.

“Me?” Harriet asked.

Lillesley nodded. “For finding that note and for being willing to put yourself in harm’s way for all of us.” He leaned his head back on his chair. It was a clear sign that he was bone weary. A yawn overtook him as if it had heard Richard’s thoughts.

And then, the blasted thing made its way around the room, causing both Harriet and him to yawn as well.

“I have misjudged you,” her brother continued. “I mean I always knew you were bright and fearless, but you are my sister.” He held up a hand. “No, I did not misjudge you because you are a girl.” He rolled his head so that he could give her a glare and a smirk because he had refuted her protest before she could make it.

Richard chuckled silently at Harriet’s huff in reply to his expression and words.

“You are my sister. My youngest sister. And I did not know how reconcile that fact with the responsibilities that were thrust upon me when Andrew’s role as oldest brother and heir fell to me. I knew how to play with you when we were young. I knew how to tease and torment you. I knew how to watch out for you to a degree, but I had never been so solely responsible for you as I was once Andrew died.”

Another yawn worked through him and then, the rest of them. “I could not bear the thought of losing yet another person I loved. Especially since she was now my responsibility. The business in which I find myself is dangerous. Richard’s life is no less fraught with risk. How could I willingly place you in a situation where harm could come to you from no fault of your own?”

He chuckled. “That is rather ridiculous to think about after recent events. Harm would not know better how to contain you than I did. You have always danced with peril to some extent. Sneaking here and there. Listening to what you were not meant to hear. Spying on your brothers and their friends. You would drive a normal man to distraction with your antics. I am glad you made me see reason about where your future happiness lies.”

He sat up straight and leaned toward her. “However, in the future, if you need me to see reason, plant yourself in my study until I have listened. Do NOT find some intrigue to pursue to prove your point.”

Harriet nodded. “I will.” She breathed and looked as if she was going to add more, but his upheld hand forestalled her.

He shared a look with Richard. Apparently, they were going to broach what they had been told now. It was likely for the best. This way Harriet would have time to consider it before they next met.

“You are part of our inner circle now,” Lillesley said. “It has been decreed by my superior.”

Indeed, the man had been rightly impressed by her quick mind and willingness to insert herself into the situation to help save a maid.

“That does not mean,” Lillesley continued, “that you will be given all the details about everything, nor does it mean that you will be given missions. It means, you may help in whatever capacity that both Richard and I deem acceptable.”

“We will not put you on the shelf and refuse to let you help,” Richard inserted. “You are just too precious to risk – even as much as we did tonight.” He took her hand in his. He knew she hated that he and her brother wanted to cosset her in safety.

“It was necessary,” Harriet protested.

“You are not wrong,” Richard agreed, which earned him a smile. “And you were allowed to assist because you were needed – even though I hated to see you there.” Allowing her to take part in their mission had been as hard for him as he now knew it had been for Darcy to allow Elizabeth and Georgiana to confront Wickham at Oxford Cottage. It had been hard, but it had made sense and had been necessary.

“But that is how we move forward. We use your strengths from a safe location and only move you into more precarious places when it is absolutely necessary.” His hold on her hand tightened. Every life ever entrusted to his care or command had been important to him, but hers? Well, that was a weight of responsibility that felt nearly too great to carry. “This arrangement will, of course, need to be revisited when we have children.”

Her brother cleared his throat and rose from his chair. “I am going to bed. We can begin all the preparations for your wedding once we have all slept. I will trust you to not be too long in seeking your own repose, Fitzwilliam.” There was an edge to the words that made it sound more like a command than a suggestion.

Richard gave him a bow of his head in acceptance of the directive. “I will see that your sister is on her way to her room in five minutes and that I am on my way to my home in six.” He had also stood and pulled Harriet to her feet with him since he was still holding her hand.

“In that case, allow me to wish you a good day instead of good night as that part of the day is swiftly fading – much like I am.” And with that he took his leave of them.

“My dearest Harriet,” Richard said as he drew her into his arms and held her against him. “You are my heart for I do believe mine would cease to beat without you.” He claimed her lips with his and attempted to drink his fill of her while pouring all the love he held for her into his kiss.

Breaking their kiss, he began to hum a tune that was familiar to her. It was the piano piece he had been playing a year ago in the music room at her sister’s soiree.

She rested her head against his chest as they swayed to the song he hummed. This was peace and tranquility. This was home. Here. With his lady in his arms.

She lifted her head and looked up at him as the melody came to an end. He kissed her once more.

And then, after he had seen her reach the top of the stairs, he stepped out into a city of shopkeepers and servants, of grand houses and tenements, that was just coming to life as he made his way home to find his repose.

(The End… for now)