Page 11 of Hastings (Brothers in Arms #15)
CHAPTER 11
“A cousin, you say?” the duke asked again, scrutinizing Miss Hyde. Or rather, Mrs. Higgs. Stephen had realized just as he was about to introduce her that Freddy would most definitely make the connection to the Higginbotham-Hydes if Stephen had. Higgs was what ended up coming out when he introduced her. She hadn’t blinked an eye, just given Freddy and Anne a very pretty curtsy.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she answered sweetly.
The sweeter she acted the angrier Hastings looked. Stephen inwardly sighed. “Hastings,” he said, as if he’d suddenly thought of something. “Can I speak to you for a moment? About that situation I was consulting you about?”
“Oh,” Freddy said, his attention swinging from Miss…Mrs. Higgs to Stephen and Hastings. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Nothing at all, Freddy,” Stephen assured him. “It has to do with the garden, and some work I need done.” Freddy was supremely uninterested in the garden, although he did like to come and watch Stephen work on pleasant days.
“I’ve told you, Stephen, that I will send workers from the Park to help you with the garden,” Freddy told him. “After all, you feed half the parish from it. It is the least I can do.”
“Now, Freddy,” Stephen told him. “You know I love my gardening. Don’t you dare threaten to take it away from me!” He took Hastings’s arm firmly and pulled him toward the door as Hastings continued to glower at Miss Hyde. Mrs. Higgs . Good God, Stephen was going to give the game away if he didn’t remember her correct, or rather, incorrect name.
“It looks like I’d be taking it away from Hastings,” Freddy said, waving them out of the room as he turned back to scrutinize Mrs. Higgs.
Once they were in the hallway, Stephen turned to Hastings with a scowl that matched the other man’s. “What are you doing?” he whispered. “What is the matter with you?”
“What are you talking about?” Hastings asked, and Stephen hushed him with a finger to his lips. Hastings shrugged, his eyes wide and his hands up in the air, silently asking the same question.
“You must stop glowering at her,” Stephen whispered furiously.
“Do you see how well she lies?” Hastings hissed back at him. “She was born to it.”
“Well, I daresay she was,” Stephen said, and Hastings, who had been looking toward the parlor with a scowl, as if he could impart his displeasure through the wall, turned back to him with a surprised look on his face.
“She told us exactly where she came from,” Stephen reminded him. “And how she was brought up. I assume lying is second nature to her.” Hastings looked like he didn’t know what to say. “She is playing a part we asked her to play,” Stephen said. “I am not going to be a hypocrite and criticize her for doing it well. Now get that look off your face or go out and sheriff somewhere.”
“Sheriff somewhere?” Hastings whispered incredulously. “What does that mean? I can’t just conjure up sheriffing when it suits me.”
“I’m sure that’s what other sheriffs do.” Stephen smiled at him. “Besides, it’s an excuse to check out the village and see what people are saying and make sure there are no other strangers about. Correct?”
“Where is she going to sleep?” Hastings asked.
“I imagine in the spare bedroom,” Stephen answered. “I’m not putting her in the barn.”
“The one right next to mine?” Hastings asked, his face scrunching up again the way it did when he was about to complain.
“Yes,” Stephen told him. “And across from mine. It’s the only other bedroom we have. She’ll be in there with Miss Waters.”
Hastings was drumming his fingers on his crossed arms. “Fine,” he whispered, his tone saying it was anything but fine. He walked around Stephen and went to the door of the parlor. “I’m going,” he announced abruptly to the room, stopping conversation. “I’ve got sheriffing to do.”
“I’m so glad to see you taking your new position seriously, Hastings,” Stephen heard Anne say. “I knew you would make an excellent sheriff.”
“Humph,” Hastings grunted in reply before he turned and stalked down the hall to the front door, glaring at Stephen over his shoulder. Stephen just sighed and watched him leave because, honestly, even when Hastings was acting poorly, Stephen was man enough to enjoy the view.
Maddy was sweating. She thought she was hiding it rather well, but she could feel her shift growing damp with nervous sweat as the duke and duchess stared at her. A duke and a duchess! You’d think that would have been something someone might have mentioned to her along the way. Oh, yes, dear, you’ll be expected to entertain a duke and his duchess in the parlor, while they glare at you with obvious suspicion. Forsooth! Or whatever nonsense people like this spouted. God, could you even call royalty people? He was a handful of accidental deaths away from the throne. She tried to breathe through the panic that was constricting her chest all while maintaining a monstrously fake, sweet smile.
Where the devil did that parson go?
“Mrs. Higgs?” the duchess inquired politely, her sharp eyes damning Maddy.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” Maddy said, not having to feign embarrassment at her inattention. “My mind wanders these days. I’m afraid the journey was not easy, so soon after my husband’s death.” She reached back for Essie’s hand, and when it was not forthcoming, she turned around and glared at her. Essie jumped up as if she’d been pinched and grabbed Maddy’s hand roughly.
“I asked if your husband had any other family. Mr. Matthews doesn’t talk of his family much. I understand his parents are deceased,” the duchess repeated. She was staring at Essie with a mixture of fear and fascination, as if she was an exhibit in a wild menagerie.
“Just distant cousins, spread out all over, Anne,” Mr. Matthews said as he came back in. “I’d lost touch with Danny over the years, to be honest.”
“I thought his name was David?” Mr. Haversham said from the far corner where he’d been sitting quietly observing them all. Maddy wasn’t exactly sure who he was, or what his connection was to the duke and duchess, but they treated him like family.
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Matthews said. “Danny was a nickname I used for him.”
“For a distant cousin you barely knew?” Mr. Haversham asked, frowning.
“We were close as children,” he quickly replied, darting a glance at Maddy, who nearly groaned at his complete ineptitude at lying. He’d already almost called her Miss Hyde a dozen times.
“If Mr. Matthews and your husband had lost touch, Mrs. Higgs, I wonder at your decision to travel all the way from…where was it again?” Mr. Haversham pressed.
“Northumberland,” she said. That seemed far enough away. Maddy knew it was north, although how far north she couldn’t be sure. Mrs. Delancey hadn’t spent a great deal of time on geography in her lessons. She was more concerned with making sure Maddy could pass as a lady, per Bleecker’s instructions.
“Right,” Mr. Haversham said, drawing the word out. “And is that where you’re from? Originally?”
“I, um, ah—” Maddy wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Did they have distinctive accents in Northumberland? If she was a lady, would she have one? Gentry all sounded the same to her.
“No,” Essie said, not bothering to hide her London accent. “London. We’re both from London. Originally.”
“And you and David lived where in Northumberland?” Mr. Haversham wasn’t giving up. “With Miss Waters?”
Bloody hell . Maddy didn’t know a single place name in Northumberland.
“Widdrington,” Mr. Matthews blurted out. “They lived in Widdrington.”
“I didn’t live there,” Essie said. “Just went up to help Mads out after Danny died.”
“Did you enjoy the castle ruins?” Mr. Haversham asked. Maddy felt a drop of sweat slide down her cheek and tried to surreptitiously wipe it away.
“Didn’t have time to go sightseeing,” Essie said, sounding bored. “Castles don’t interest me, anyway.”
“I would imagine not,” the duke murmured, watching her with a fascination equal to the duchess’s.
“And what happened to your arm, Miss Waters?” the duchess asked sympathetically.
“Got in a tussle,” she said. Maddy wanted to box her ears.
“My dearest Essie fell down the stairs trying to carry a trunk that was clearly too heavy for her,” Maddy said. “When the footman tried to take it from her, she resisted and lost her footing. She’s never been one to accept her limits.” She smiled benignly at the duchess, ignoring the glare Essie was giving her.
“Indeed.” The duke turned his attention to Maddy with startling speed. “Well, we are very happy to have new arrivals in the village.” He stood and held his hand out to the duchess, who hesitated before she took it, setting her cup down before she stood up. It wasn’t hard to interpret the look she was giving him. She wasn’t ready to give up the interrogation, and Mr. Haversham didn’t look like he was, either.
“Freddy,” Mr. Haversham began firmly, only to be interrupted by the duke.
“I’m exhausted from all this socializing,” the duke said, although he didn’t look it in Maddy’s opinion. “And we mustn’t wear out our welcome.”
Mr. Matthews had come to his feet as well and gave Maddy a look with a flick of his head. She quickly rose as well. The duke came over and she offered her hand to him. Instead of shaking it he kissed her wrist lightly.
“Enchanté, madame,” he said. “It really has been a delightful visit. You must come to the Park.” He turned to Essie and solemnly shook her hand, correctly assuming she would not welcome a kiss, even from a duke. Then he turned to the parson and took his hand. “You must bring them to the Park, Stephen. Tomorrow. And bring Hastings, as well.”
“I’m not sure,” Mr. Matthews began, but the duke interrupted him.
“Nonsense,” the duke said jovially. “You’ll come for luncheon. A picnic! Won’t that be delightful, my dear?” he said to the duchess. “The children will enjoy it immensely.”
“Delightful,” the duchess said wryly, raising an eyebrow at the duke. Maddy would love to be a fly on the wall in their carriage on the way back to their…castle? Did dukes live in castles?
Mr. Haversham bowed to them all very proper like from where he was standing by the door. He’d moved while the duke was saying his goodbyes. He gave Mr. Matthews a very stern look. “Yes, Stephen, we shall see you tomorrow at the Park.”
The parson sighed audibly. “Yes, fine, at the Park. But whether or not Hastings is with us I cannot guarantee. You know very well Hastings will do what Hastings wants.”
“I’m sure Hastings will see the benefit of a picnic at the Park,” the duke said blithely, “if you tell him I specifically asked for his presence.” He tucked the duchess’s arm in his and pulled her to the door, where Mrs. Tulane was waiting with their hats and gloves. “Welcome to Ashton on the Green, Mrs. Higgs, Miss Waters.” He sailed out the door with the duchess and Mr. Haversham limped out behind them. Maddy wondered how he’d gotten the limp. It looked like an old injury, not a new one. She could tell the difference. The war, perhaps? He was the right age.
Mr. Matthews closed the door behind them. When Maddy started to speak, he put a finger to his lips to hush her. Finally, when they could all hear the carriage move off down the lane, he slumped against the door.
“Good heavens,” he said. “I thought they’d never leave.”
“That Haversham knows we’re lying through our teeth,” Essie said, plopping down on the sofa next to Maddy. “And so does the duchess.”
“Oh, my dear, so does the duke. Don’t be fooled by him,” Mr. Matthews said. “But for some reason he has decided not to pursue it, and so we shall be grateful for the reprieve.”
“Reprieve?” Maddy said, trying to hide her panic. “We are to dine at the duke’s palace tomorrow!”
“It’s not a palace,” Mr. Matthews assured her. “Just a very, very large estate.” He sat down and shook his head. “There’s nothing to worry about. They are very informal at home, and Freddy chose a picnic so the children would be there. He’s offering us a buffer, because Anne and Brett won’t interrogate us in front of the children.”
“I never learned how to eat with royalty!” Maddy said, not bothering to hide her panic anymore. “They’ll know instantly that I’m not a lady.” Hastings had seen through it immediately. Her mask of gentility was hanging by a thread. Why had she thought it would work in the first place? Playing the lady among her father’s thugs and associates was one thing, but here among actual nobs was quite another. She had never longed more for the freedom to be herself. She just wasn’t sure who that was anymore. Perhaps here in the country she could figure that out, if she could carry off this farcical deceit.
Essie snorted. “I’m guessing they do it just like everyone else. Put the food in your mouth and chew.”
Mr. Matthews laughed. “You’re exactly right, Essie.” He sat forward in his chair and reached out to take Maddy’s hand. “There’s no need to fret, Miss…Mrs. Higgs.” He shook his head and then smiled again. “I mean it when I say it will be very informal. Just food set out on tables and games on the lawn. There are no strict etiquette rules to abide by. After all, Hastings can do it.”
He let go of her hand and she missed it, which surprised her. His hand had been big and strong, and surprisingly callused. He’d said he liked gardening. That must be why his hands weren’t soft. Maddy had never had a hand to hold in stressful situations. Earlier she’d reached for Essie’s hand as part of her playacting the distressed widow, but she’d found holding hands with her had calmed her nerves. Stephen’s hand had the same effect on her. How odd, that such a simple thing could bring relief.
“Call me Madelyn,” she said impulsively. “That way you don’t risk using the wrong name.” She smiled to soften her words. “Why did you change my name?”
“Freddy knows the Higginbotham-Hydes,” he told her. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “What a tangled web we weave, eh?” he smiled at her.
Well, that was confusing. “What do spiders have to do with it?” she asked, frowning.
“That’s a quote,” he said. “From Sir Walter Scott’s poem, ‘Marmion’ . ‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!’” His smile was also meant to soften his words, she was sure. She felt terribly ignorant at that moment. It was obvious it was a quote he thought she’d recognize.
“I didn’t learn poetry or geography in school,” she told him flatly. “All I learned in my brief time there was how to walk and talk like a lady.” She bit her lip. “Was Northumberland a good choice?”
“As good as any,” he said. “After all, a lie is a lie no matter how good it is.”