(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.
