Bad Austen

“Eugenia! Imogene! Keridwen ! Come, girls. The time is fleeting and I don’t wish to be benighted on the road.” Lady Caroline Smalley shepherded her daughters toward the waiting carriage. She wasn’t looking to forward to three days in a stuffy, bouncing carriage with two nights spent in the beds of strange inns. Nor did she feel great enthusiasm for several months in London, haring from route to route to ball to assembly, all of which were crowded to breathless with frivolous, silly people. She sighed, quietly. She would suffer much greater trials to see her girls suitably established. Straightening her spine, she preceded her daughters down the stairs and allowed the footman to hand her into the coach.

No one could have noticed anything amiss in demeanor of the three girls, but as the handsome young footman handed each one into the coach, his hand lingered an instant too long as he gave each set of fingers, in turn, a delicate squeeze. Upon each face bloomed a tiny secret smile as the sisters settled into their seats. He turned and climbed onto his perch, behind the coach, gave the driver a signal and they were off.

Within the coach, Lady Caroline began the admonishments which would inform their journey.

“I cannot conceive of a reason for each of you to have worn such unsuitable dress. One would think you were prepared to entertain suitors instead of spending a day traveling by coach.

“Have a sharp eye to the landscape, now girls. We are passing through Lord Dirtwood’s estates. He was such a close friend of your dear Papa and we’re sure to see him in London. He never married, you know, he’s said to have a preference for… Well, that’s no suitable subject for unmarried maidens. In any case, his nephew, and heir, is unmarried as well and would be an excellent match.

“Imogene, must I constantly remind you not to slump in that unladylike fashion? Sit up! Keridwen, attend to me now and stop gazing into space; it makes you appear positively simple. Both of you may take your sister Eugenia as an example. She is the picture of a proper young lady.”

Eugenia sat with a gentle smile upon her rather thin lips, her mind elsewhere. She had no need of her mother’s matchmaking, for she had already found and given her heart to her perfect match. Who would have thought that the only heir to the disgraced Marquess of Strayforestford would have found refuge disguised as a lowly footman. She, alone had been entrusted with the secret of his identity and, together they would use her large dowry to clear the stain from his name. She guarded this secret, less from loyalty to her beloved than from a disinclination to allow anyone to disprove his story, it being much easier to maintain one’s beliefs, unchallenged.

Imogene straightened her spine and gave Lady Caroline her surface attention. Surely, the poppy-eyed heir to the Dirtwood estates was less desirable than a duke; her own Duke of Fulfontan. Once they were wed, he would have the resources to combat his cousin, the foul cur who had tried to kill him on more than one occasion. When he came into his estates, there would no need for his present disguise. How fortunate that he had happened to seek asylum in her family’s employ.

Oh, how Keridwen understood her dearest Percy’s plight. It was as romantic as a novel from the circulating library, to which she was addicted. The seventh son of a seventh son of the unacknowledged son of the king of Prussia, his blood was truly noble, but his situation fitted him for nothing but a career as a highwayman. Although he had pursued this career quite successfully for several years, his honor had forced him to give it up and so he had turned to the life of a footman. Only she could save him.

“Your dear cousin, Lady Barbara,” continued Lady Carolyn, “Has consented to hold a ball in your honor, my dears. Her own youngest being married these four years now, she has a mind to dabble in the marriage mart once again. She has made a list…”

The sisters came to attention, then, each settled back into her own thoughts, which were remarkably similar. A large ball would provide an excellent opportunity for a clandestine escape. A gentleman with a fast carriage could sweep his lady love a long way toward Scotland and Gretna Green before any alarm was given. Three quiet smiles appeared.

On the footman’s perch plans were also being made. As their inheritances were equal, the first of his ladies who could be separated from her protectors would become his bride. He smiled.

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