Lady In Waiting Part 18

Thoughts swam through Jenny's mind like spring salmon in a stream. It would take quite a lot of money to open her dream shop. At least three hundred guineas. Hmm. Maybe more.

Immediately she began ciphering the number of pots needed, less expenses... Erma and supplies of course. Criminy. She needed to get started producing tingle cream right away!

"I've got to go now, Annie. Mustn't tarry. Good-bye."

Before Annie had managed to utter a word, Jenny's boots were clicking double time for home. But not two hundred yards down Milsom, as she habitually glanced in a shop window to check her appearance in the reflection, she saw she was being followed.

Stopping abruptly, she whirled upon the little man who trailed her not five paces behind. "h.e.l.lo there... can I a.s.sist you with something?" she asked warily.

"No, miss. I'm just walking and enjoying the sun." Though she expected a speaking tone quite higher, the little man's voice was deep and soft.

She looked at his coat and saw that it was tattered and dirty, and though he was possibly the thief of Bath, her heart went out to him. She jammed her hand into her reticule, but felt only the needles and silk thread she'd purchased on Trim Street. "I haven't any money," she muttered to herself.

"I haven't asked for any," the little man replied.

"Oh, I know." But he could use a s.h.i.+lling or two, that was evident. Odd though, with all the baubles he'd lifted recently-for she was sure it was he-that he hadn't taken care to buy himself some new clothes. That's the first thing she would have done. "I am sorry if I have offended you in any way."

The man smiled up at her, his kind eyes glistening in the waning sunlight. "Be a.s.sured, my lady, you haven't."

"I am so glad." With a careful eye, Jenny studied him then. Why, he didn't seem capable of committing the brutal robberies of late. Why, he scarcely even came up to her hip. Yet, if indeed he was the thief, here was a prime opportunity to investigate. She'd be safe enough, surely, if she remained on the alert. "Perhaps you might condescend to a.s.sist me."

The man tilted his head to the side and waited for her request.

"Dear sir, with all the reticule-s.n.a.t.c.hing in Bath, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to escort me home. 'Tisn't so far, I a.s.sure you. Just a few streets farther... Royal Crescent."

The little man smiled warmly and offered up his arm. Jenny touched her fingers to his forearm to avoid stooping as she walked, and the pair headed down the flag way.

"Royal Crescent," he repeated. "Quite the direction in the Bath."

"I suppose it is. My ladies are quite grand indeed."

The little man stopped walking and his great blue eyes blinked up at her. "You are not the mistress?"

Jenny laughed. "Oh, heavens, no. I am but a lady's maid." She gestured to her ap.r.o.n jutting from beneath her pelisse.

The man urged Jenny into a walk again, but he was pensive. "I'm sorry, if I seem a little confused, but I thought I saw you inside the Pump Room not a week ago."

"Oh, yes, I was there. My ladies... needed some a.s.sistance, and I was only too happy to oblige them." Jenny focused her eyes upon his. Where was he going with these questions?

Sizing her up as a mark, was he? She'd already told him she had no money. "I've seen you about Bath too. Outside the Bath Abbey was the last time, I believe." Jenny quieted for a moment, then added with a wry smile on her lips, "You were not following me just now, were you?"

The little man grinned cheekily up at her and perhaps it was the sun in his eye, but she could have sworn he winked at her.

"Would it be so wrong for a man in his prime to enjoy the sight of a pretty woman?"

Jenny chuckled at that. Had he been any other man, Jenny might have turned and walked in the other direction, but she felt no threat from this interesting man... though she certainly should.

"I am Hercule Lestrange. But I am known to all simply as Hercule."

"Hercule?" Jenny glanced down at the tiny man with such a improbable name. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Miss Jenny Penny."

Hercule looked up at her and chuckled with such deep infectious laughter that Jenny could not help but giggle as well.

"I suppose our parents gave us each a cross to bear with our names," she said.

Hercule laughed again, and Jenny realized she quite liked this little fellow. Too bad he was a scoundrel.

A few minutes later they arrived at the wrought-iron rail leading down to the kitchen door.

"Well, we have arrived," Jenny told Hercule. "I do thank you for your company and protection."

The little man removed his beaver hat and held it in his hands. "It was my pleasure, Miss Penny."

At that moment, Jenny felt so at ease with her escort that she totally forgot her investigation and an invitation slipped from her lips. "Would you like to come inside for some tea?"

A tremor shook her. Oh dear. She couldn't ask a possible thief into the house. Was she mad? She opened her mouth to rescind her offer, but it was already too late. He was at her side, beaming. "Thank you, miss. I'd greatly enjoy that."

Jenny opened the door to the kitchen and, thinking quickly, made a show of hurrying to the servants' stairs. "It's only me," she called out.

Hercule's brows crunched together.

Jenny forced a smile. "With all the violence of late, my ladies have engaged two burly chairmen to watch over the house," she lied. "Didn't want them to rush down and mistake you for an intruder, now did I?

"Please take a seat while I set the water to heat." Jenny set the kettle to warm, taking keen note of the position of the fire poker, then turned around in time to see Hercule still standing beside the door. He was intently staring at something.

Curious as to what he seemed to find so fascinating, she stepped forward and saw the harvest basket on the floor, filled with twenty gallipots.

Oh, perdition!

Hercule reached down into the basket and lifted a pot up toward her.

"Lady Eros, I presume?"

Chapter Twelve.

Jenny stared, transfixed by the little man's words. "W-what do you know of Lady Eros?" she asked rather shakily.

Hercule lifted the lid from a gallipot and breathed in the fresh peppermint scent. "All of Bath has heard of the tingle cream, though I admit, this is the closest I have come to a pot. Bartleby's cannot keep them in stock, and I have no connection below stairs to acquire a cream pot by other means."

"Why would you need a pot?" Jenny crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling uneasy with the man. He was a study in contrasts. Though his clothes were grubby, Hercule's well-chosen words and impeccable manners now sparkled with a genteel polish Jenny hadn't noticed earlier.

"Curiosity, I suppose. 'Tis amusing, is it not, to see the ton clamoring of a simple pot of cream." He extended a finger as if he meant to sample a bit for himself.

"Stop! You'll ruin it," Jenny snapped. "Those pots have already been spoken for."

The little man smiled and waggled his unruly brow. "So you are Lady Eros."

"I told you, I am Miss Penny."

"Ah, yes, but I am quite sure that Miss Penny and the mysterious Lady Eros are one and the same." Hercule returned the lid to the pot and settled it into its place in the basket.

"See here," Jenny began. "It is clear that you think you know who I am."

She took a full breath into her lungs, knowing that the words she uttered next might plummet her into great danger. "Mr. Lestrange, I'll have you know that I am wise to your true ident.i.ty as well. Reveal my game and I shall reveal yours, sirrah."

"My ident.i.ty?" Hercule was shaken, and even took a step backward to regain his shoddy balance. "But h-how? I've taken great care to conceal it."

"Not enough care, for it took me no time at all to realize who you really were," Jenny countered, suddenly feeling she had regained control of the situation.

The little man walked slowly to the table and using the stool's foot rungs as a ladder, climbed atop the tall chair and sat down, bringing him eye level with Jenny. "It seems we have reached an impa.s.se, you and I."

"Not an impa.s.se at all." Jenny shook her head and leaned toward him. "'Tis simple, really. We both forget what we know about the other. The success of our business ventures depends on our silence, does it not?"

Hercule nodded his wide head. "You are a shrewd woman, Miss Penny."

"So we have a bargain?" Jenny extended her hand to the little man for him to shake.

As he squeezed her hand, he chuckled softly. "I suppose we do."

Miss Meredith came racing below stairs but a moment after Hercule Lestrange closed the kitchen door behind him on his way out.

"Oh, Jenny," she huffed, being completely out of breath. Meredith looked her up and down and grimaced.

"Oh, that won't do. You've got to change your clothes. Hurry. Put on something fine!"

Jenny took hold of Meredith's arms and sat her down upon the stool. "Slow down. Tell me what is wrong."

"Now that the streets are clear again, he's here."

"What? Who is here?" Jenny asked.

"Lord Argyll."

Jenny's heart skipped a double beat, then thudded hard in her chest, making her a little light-headed and faint.

"He's talking with the ladies right now, and from what I overheard, Aunt Let.i.tia is none too pleased with his treatment of you."

Jenny felt a tremor of weakness in her limbs. "Really? How did he seem to you?"

Meredith seemed confused by the question. But it was simple really. She needed to know if he might be here to resume his courts.h.i.+p of her. If he was, she ought to wear the scarlet, for it was the color of love.

However, if he only wanted to explain his ungentlemanly behavior to the ladies, then the cream dress, that made her look so innocent and angelic, really would be the only choice. Lud, how she wanted to just race up the stairs and throw herself into his arms. Despite everything, she missed him horribly.

"Come on... how did he seem?" Jenny's heart pounded unnaturally loud in her ears.

"Oh." Meredith thought about it. "He looked tired, I suppose. Really weary, as if he hadn't slept in nights."

Meredith's observation brought a smile to Jenny's lips. His conscience had been plaguing him-and well it should after what he said to her. Perhaps then, after seeing her, he would regret his decision and recant. Oh, yes, the cream gown was exactly the one to wear.

When Jenny appeared in the doorway, Lady Viola, who stood behind and just off to the side of Callum, shook her head violently and waved Jenny away.

Jenny crinkled her brow. Had she not been summoned?

She started to back away from the door, but somehow Callum sensed her arrival. He went to her and reached out for her hand. But Jenny guessed his intent and pulled it away before he could touch her.

"Jenny, nay. Please dinna leave. 'Tis ye I came to see."

Jenny looked past him to Lady Let.i.tia for direction, who begrudgingly beckoned her into their fold.

She walked solemnly into the drawing room and stood before the settee, where both Featherton sisters joined her, one to her left and the other to her right.

The sisters each grasped one of her hands, and as if arranged by a dance master, on the eight count they all sat down at once.

Ever in control, Lady Let.i.tia gestured for Lord Argyll to take his ease in the j.a.panned chair directly across from them. Callum's eyes never left Jenny's as he silently seated himself on the edge of the chair.

Lady Let.i.tia gave Jenny's hand a quick squeeze as if to urge her to speak. But la, what was she to say... the first words that entered her mind? Yes, that was it. Do not think. Just speak.

But she knew the words in her heart, her lowly lady's maid heart, I love you, Callum, were not to be uttered now, but rather held painfully to the breast. And so Lady Genevieve, her glittering alias, spoke in her stead.

"Has your intent changed, Lord Argyll? For if it has not, I do not understand the purpose of your visit this day." Jenny cringed inside. She could see the turmoil in his eyes. See how his decision had tortured him.

And for heaven's sake, she could not fault him for not wis.h.i.+ng to marry her-she was a lady's maid. If he only knew the truth.

"It has, la.s.s." He swallowed. "In part."

But Jenny was so gobsmacked by "It has" that she hardly heard the conditional he'd added to it.

"W-what did you say?" she stammered. Her heart pounded deafeningly in her ears and she leaned forward so as not to miss his next words.

"I've changed me mind, in part." Callum came to his feet.

Jenny watched, unable to move, as he came toward her, kilt swaying gently, and knelt before her. Reaching forward, he opened his palm to her.

She knew he wished to take her hand, and though she tried to offer one to him, neither lady would release her grip.

Lowering his hand, Callum laid it far too intimately atop her knee. Jenny needn't look around to know that the ladies were scowling. Whatever he was about to tell her, they were not pleased.

This made Jenny even more of a victim to her nerves.

As if gathering his courage, Callum dropped his chin toward his chest. By degrees, he slowly raised it again. There was a purpose in his gaze now.