Page 17 of The Best-Laid Plans

Newton nodded. They were on their way to call on the Napper sisters. Charlie, who had been designated by Ellie’s parents as their choice for her, would show equal and neutral attention to both ladies. Newton, who had been selected for Lillian, would give notably more attention to Ellie while not giving the impression of an active, determined courtship. It was a narrow ledge to navigate but one that would save all of them a great deal of misery if they managed it.

Their knock was answered by a staid and respectable butler. Today was the Napper ladies’ at-home day, and thus, Charlie and Newton were not required to wait to see how their cards were received. They were ushered into the drawing room, where a small gathering of ladies—young, old, and otherwise—were conversing reservedly.

Mrs. Napper welcomed them with a mixture of enthusiasm and almost painful decorum. “Do come sit with the girls.” She motioned the both of them to chairs near her daughters.

Newton moved directly to the one nearest Ellie, but Mrs. Napper stopped him.

“You are welcome to sit here, Mr. Hughes.” She indicated a seat closer to Lillian.

“I thank you,” he said, “but I would not wish to give Miss Ellie the impression that I do not wish to take the seat I was aiming for, as that would seem a slight against her. No gentleman would wish to so mistreat a lady.”

Her mother clearly wasn’t certain how to contradict that.

Ellie spoke up. “You are so kind, Mr. Hughes. Thank you for sparing my feelings. I would, of course, be honored to have you sit near me.”

He dipped his head. “The honor is all mine, Miss Ellie.”

Newton caught Charlie’s eye as he lowered himself into the chair. Had he done too much? Ought he not to have offered so much praise or been so vocal about sitting next to her in particular? But Charlie nodded subtly, encouragingly.

They were all situated, and the conversations around the room resumed. Ellie turned to Newton almost immediately. “I’ve thought of an answer to the one question you baffled me with during the games of short answer.”

She had stumbled over only one of the questions he’d asked her during that game:Which of the King’s children is most pleasant?It had been both a bit tongue-in-cheek, requiring that she imply the other princes and princesses were poor company, and all but impossible to answer. “George” had been given as an answer already in that round, and none of the others had one-syllable Christian names. “Kent” and “York” had also been used, eliminating her ability to refer to those of the children whose titles were but one syllable. The usual fallbacks—“none,” “all,” etc.—had also been unavailable.

“And what answer have you to give now?” he asked, truly intrigued.

“Tous.”

For just a moment, he wasn’t certain what she’d said. But then the genius of it became clear. “Tous,” he repeated. “French for ‘all.’”

She smiled broadly, a laugh in her eyes. “Once I realized we had not specifically barred answers already given in English if given in another language, the answer became clear.”

“You’ve been pondering this ever since being denied victory?”

“I’m not Napoleon; I do not surrender.”

It was all he could do not to laugh out loud in such a sedate and quiet gathering as this.

“Do you not agree, Mr. Hughes?” Lillian addressed her question tohimwithout the slightest context.

He looked to her, confused. The expectation in her expression told him quite clearly that she was attempting to draw him into her conversation and felt quite certain of her success despite his currently being engaged in a conversation with her sister.

“Agree with what, precisely, Miss Napper?”

She gave him the same coy smile she had again and again. “You never do listen, do you?”

“On the contrary, I am generally considered a good listener.”

Ellie leaned forward, joining the discussion. “I have found you to be precisely that, Mr. Hughes.”

Lillian shot her sister a look that sent the younger lady scooting back and abandoning the conversation.

“We were saying that at-home hours are not always enjoyable for those of us in the younger set,” Lillian said. “Civility, of course, requires us to behave and not make our displeasure apparent, but I am certain each of us would far rather promenade on the Gravel Walk at the moment than sit here pretending to not be utterly bored.”

“I cannot argue with that,” Newton said.

“I have an excellent idea.” Lillian looked from Newton to Charlie and back again several times. “We should promenade. I am certain my mother will not object, and it would be a lovely way to pass the afternoon. The weather is fine, and I am certain many of our friends will be out doing precisely that.”

Newton looked to Ellie, intending to defer to her. Lillian, however, jumped ahead.

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