Page 19 of The Best-Laid Plans

It was not a simple question to answer. “They earn a few tsks and raised eyebrows here and there, but none of them causes too much consternation. They are mostly viewed as amusingly unique.”

“They sound delightful,” Ellie said.

“They sound like trouble.” Lillian had, apparently, overheard.

“Like I said,” Ellie muttered under her breath.

Newton held back a laugh but only just.

“You should smile more often, Mr. Hughes,” Ellie said. “You are quite handsome when you do.”

“Ellie, do have some decorum.” Lillian sounded entirely horrified. “A lady simply does not say such things to a gentleman.”

“Decorum requires me to lie?”

Through tight lips, Lillian countered, “Decorum requires you to behave.”

Newton lowered his head a bit and his voice a lot. “Please don’t. I enjoy when you make a bit merry.”

She beamed once more. “No one has ever said that to me before.”

They kept their conversation quiet so as not to be overheard by Lillian.

“I’d wager our friend Miss Lancaster would agree that you are an enjoyable companion.”

Ellie took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I do hope I am able to join her in London. I’m not certain my parents will allow it. I am the youngest, after all.”

“If you are able to be in Town for the Season, I hope you will allow me to call on you and request that you stand up with me at any balls we might both attend. I would enjoy being granted your company again.”

She set her free hand on his arm, looking up at him with such a kind and pleased expression. “I do believe that is the most words I have heard from you at one time.”

“And far more than you spoke whilst at home with your mother.”

Her shoulders drooped a bit. “She is easier to endure if I play the role she prefers.”

“You play a great many roles, Ellie,” he said. “Do you ever grow weary of them?”

She nodded. He nodded.

They were both playing parts, after all. Perhaps the Bard had been correct. All the world was but a stage and all the men and women merely players.

The question remained, Wasthisact fated to be a comedy or a tragedy?

Chapter Eight

Ellie had been uncertain whenArtemis had first suggested that Newton be her partner in the madcap scheme the two of them had cooked up over tea at the Pump Room. Her friend had insisted he would not only be willing but would also be an enjoyable partner in crime. He was so quiet and withdrawn, and his assessing expression was more than a little intimidating. He had seemed such a peculiar choice.

Ellie had seldom been so pleased to be wrong about another person.

As she waited in the vestibule for her parents to descend the stairs and announce the family ready to trek to that week’s Fancy Ball, excitement bubbled inside. Newton would be there; he had told her so. She could hardly wait to see him and talk with him again.

“I do hope you mean to behave today,” Lillian said, standing nearby. She didn’t look at Ellie, but there was no doubt to whom the comment was directed. They, alone, stood there.

“Of course.” Ellie had heard her mother utter that phrase so many times that it emerged from her own lips almost without thought.

“Do not act as though I haven’t reason for concern.” Still, she didn’t look at Ellie. “You monopolized Mr. Hughes’s time during our promenade. You were bolder than you ought to have been, and it was not the first time. At the Lancaster home, you turned a simple evening of short answers into a battle of wits.”

“Which I won, you will recall.”

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