Page 10 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

O livia simply wanted to relax and enjoy her last Taverston family Christmas. She had tried to be lively, cheerful, and mature when Benjamin approached her to apologize, but she didn’t know what to think when he said he should explain himself but wouldn’t . That made it worse. However, watching Benjamin with Jasper as they tried to wrestle the card table across the threshold gave her to conclude that the men were all just drunk. Even Reg was speaking more loudly and slower than usual, as he and Georgiana set up a chessboard in a corner. Chess. That must be Georgiana’s influence. Reg had never been fond of chess.

“Oh!” Alice cried out in exasperation, making Olivia jump. “Turn it on its side and lead with the legs. For heaven’s sake!”

After a burst of laughter, Jasper and Benjamin managed to tilt the table and thread two legs through the door, then turn it to maneuver the rest. Benjamin was in front, walking backwards. The close fit of his jacket, cut tight to form, emphasized his muscular shoulders. Olivia felt shy, watching, but could not look away.

At last, they were through the door and situated the table close to the fire.

“Piquet?” Jasper said. Benjamin nodded. They sat down to play.

The ladies, aside from Georgiana, seated themselves near the window. Vanessa ignored the empty chair beside Olivia to sit next to Mama. Olivia could swear her sister-in-law was avoiding her. Vanessa never sought her out. They hadn’t had one private conversation. She refused any invitations to ride—not even to meet the tenants. It was puzzling.

But for now, they all fussed together over Hannah, who curled in Miss Jamison’s lap on the davenport, thumb in her mouth, eyelids heavy.

“I suppose I’ll have to break her of that after Christmas. She will be three in May and that is too old to be sucking her thumb,” Miss Jamison said.

“I suspect she will abandon it on her own before then,” Mama said. “Most children do. I must say, I’ve never seen the harm in it.”

Miss Jamison smiled. “That is my sentiment exactly. But I’ve worked for some who have been insistent to the point of, well, of cruelty to the little ones.”

Then Mama began to gently draw Miss Jamison out. She had a sister, married to a curate in a small town south of London. She had helped raise their five, then began her career nannying for others. She adored her little charges, but they grew up too fast, so she was always moving on. Alice went very still and her eyes dulled. Was she comparing her situation to Miss Jamison’s?

Vanessa changed the slightly melancholy subject by saying, “It will soon be too cold for playing in the garden. You must make use of more of this home. Too much of it lies empty.”

Miss Jamison flushed. “That is very kind of you, my lady. But it is Mr. Carroll’s decision, and he feels it is better if Hannah is not underfoot.”

And he felt it was better if people did not play games with her or give her gifts .

Mama said, “Well, he cannot object to you bringing her down to the dower house. You and I can have tea. I would appreciate the company.”

“Oh! You rogue!” Jasper cried out, slapping his cards on the table. “You have been practicing.”

Benjamin smiled a bit wolfishly. Evidently, he hadn’t heard Mama, though she had spoken loudly enough that he might have. Olivia wondered if Mama would repeat herself, but whatever might have followed was interrupted by thudding footsteps in the hall, followed by Peters’s appearance in the doorway. Alice gave a small gasp, and for a moment, her face seemed to brighten.

“My lord—” Peters began.

The next instant, Crispin slid past him. “Peters, my man, you will have to learn to walk faster.”

“Captain Taverston is here, my lord,” Peters finished, eyes glowing with pleasure.

The room erupted in a chorus of “Crispin!” with Jasper adding wryly, “And that is ‘just like Crispin’” while Crispin brushed the light dusting of snow from the shoulders of his greatcoat then stripped off his wet gloves.

Olivia’s heart fairly burst. She didn’t have a favorite brother, of course, but if she did, he had just come home.

Mama, all smiles, said, “It would be lovely if you were to give us some warning for once. Why didn’t you let us know you would be here? Peters, please make sure Captain Taverston’s room is made ready.”

“It is being attended to, my lady.”

Crispin peeled off his aged coat and a battered tricorn hat that Olivia had never seen before, and handed them to Peters along with his gloves. A messy tangle of blond hair, half falling out the leather thong he’d used to tie it back, drooped against his shoulders. Beneath the outerwear, he wore his redcoat with its gold braid and shiny brass buttons, black pantaloons, and boots that were coated with mud. He looked every inch the returning hero and Olivia was thrilled.

“I didn’t know I would be here until about seven hours ago. If I had waited to send a letter, you would have it but not me !” He crossed the room to Mama, then bent down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m supposed to be in London, but so are a lot of other men who are not there, so I thought I may as well not be either.”

“Meaning?” Jasper asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Meaning I came to London with two saddlebags full of letters, at least half from Wellington and so probably more than just Christmas greetings, and I was supposed to wander about London playing postman. Moreover, I had reports to make. But no one was at home to hear them.” His smirk turned into a scowl of irritation. “It is as though no one in England remembers there is a war being fought.”

“We remember,” Vanessa said in a low tone.

“Yes, well,” Crispin gave her a grateful look. “I should not complain. It gave me a day or two to come here.”

“A day or two?” Jasper said. “Surely—”

“Surely by then you will be sick of me.”

Olivia burst out, “Crispin, please say you will stay through the New Year. It is only a week!”

“Ah, Livvy-pet.” He sighed. “Perhaps we will be lucky and be blizzarded in.” Then he turned and focused his full attention on Georgiana. “You are the real reason I am here.”

Georgiana colored, her hand going to her swollen belly. “Well, as you can see, you are too early. You must return to us in February.”

“Oh, I am not here to see little Arthur.”

“We are not naming our child after Wellington,” Reg said gruffly, but his eyes were laughing.

“We will see,” Crispin said, moving toward their corner. “Although I am glad to note you are in health, Georgiana, I came for a different reason entirely.” He pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket, unfolded it, and held it out. “One of the men I was to see in London, who was not there, was supposed to have a look at this. Rather than chase him down God-knows-where, I thought I might better show it to you.”

“What is it?” Reg asked, leaning in as Georgiana took it.

“A page full of numbers.” She raised her eyes to Crispin in a question. Olivia and everyone else held silent, waiting for the odd scene to make sense.

“Wellington took it off a captured frog. It is a cipher. We all have taken a crack at it, but no one made any headway.”

Reg scowled so darkly, Olivia thought for a moment he might rise and take a swing at their brother, but Georgiana bent her head over the page almost eagerly.

Jasper said, “What are you playing at, Crispin?”

“Georgiana is good at puzzles,” he said mildly.

“But not war games,” Reg erupted. “On Christmas Eve, no less. To pressure her with spying , in her condition—”

Crispin waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not pressuring her. The scrap is more than a month old. If it were urgent, it is not anymore. But it is a new cipher. Or possibly a resurrected old cipher, now equally opaque.” A weary, frustrated note crept into his voice. “And Wellington has tasked me with de ciphering before we run up against it again.”

“An old cipher?” Georgiana asked.

“Numbers substituting for letters. We are generally more sophisticated now. Code books. Grills. Fences.”

Georgiana looked bewildered. “Fences?”

“You run your letters up and down the rails. Then write out the letters along the top, middle, bottom…like this.” He took the scrap back and flipped it over. “Pencil?” Reg fished one from his jacket and put it in his hand. Crispin bent over the table and scribbled something.

“Yes, I see,” Georgiana said, a bit impatiently. “But these are numbers, not letters.”

“Which is why I brought it to you.” He straightened. “Our best fellow in the field was injured and is now stupid with laudanum. Our man in London is not in London.” He shook his head. “I just thought…”

“Well, then, hush,” Georgiana said, peering at the page again. “And don’t watch me. I will be flustered.”

Almost as one, they all jerked their heads away.

“Come, Livvy,” Crispin said, crossing the room again. “Make a fourth with us. We’ll play whist.” As she stood, he added, “You must be thrilled. London, finally, in February?”

She shook her head. “I’m having some dresses made here. I don’t have to go until April.”

His gaze sharpened, and she felt herself redden. “Have to” was the wrong choice of words.

“Ah.” He gave a short nod. “A grand entrance. Heightening the ton’s anticipation. Excellent plan of attack.” His eyes went to Vanessa. “Fearless and unapologetic.”

Vanessa started. Her face went slack. Vague. Olivia felt a bit vague as well. It wasn’t a plan . They didn’t have a plan. But Crispin evidently believed that they needed one.

She beckoned to Vanessa with a tilt of her head. “You must join us too. We can play loo instead of whist.”

Vanessa bit her lip. “I have no head for cards tonight, but thank you.”

Another “no.” This was becoming…uncomfortable. It wasn’t as if Vanessa avoided everyone. She had gone with Mama and Georgiana into the village to visit the shops when Olivia was otherwise occupied. She swallowed a sharp lump in her throat.

Well, fine. She had no experience of the world. Vanessa probably found her uninteresting and unbearably young. But the gossips would eat that up when they got to London. The Countess cutting Iversley’s sister? It should be the other way around.

Crispin caught her arm and led her to the card table where she was obliged to sit next to Benjamin, who nodded to acknowledge her but didn’t smile. If anything, he looked wary. Everyone was avoiding her!

Jasper dealt out their hands. They didn’t bother bidding since they were not paying much attention to the game. Rather they all kept stealing looks at Georgiana. She whispered to Reg, who fetched her more paper; then she made marks, frowned ferociously, and occasionally tsk ed her tongue.

“ Eeesht , Olivia,” Crispin winced. “Why would you play a knave when I just played a queen?”

“Sorry.” Her cheeks warmed.

“You can take it back,” Benjamin offered.

“Watch out.” Jasper laughed. “She gets angry if you condescend.”

To prove Jasper wrong, she snatched back her card and laid down a three.

“Oh!” Georgiana gasped. They turned to see her flip over her paper and begin scratching away upon it, a strange look in her eyes. Then she said, “no,” several times. Then “yes!” Then she blurted, “Oh, but it is in French.”

Crispin laughed. “One would hope so. What does it say?”

She pushed back a loosened lock of hair with the end of the pen. “In English it would read ‘The leopard is at Vera watch the Nivelle.’” She glanced up. “Does that mean anything?”

Crispin dropped his cards and beamed so hard it gave Olivia a chill.

“The French call Wellington the leopard. We were at Vera. We took it. And then, Nivelle. I imagine this missive was supposed to have made it to Soult before we did.”

Benjamin set his cards, then his arms, on the table. His left arm rested so close to her right arm that she could feel his heat.

Crispin rose and went to Georgiana. “Show me.” He bent over her to see what she’d done.

“It is simple, really,” she said. “There are far too many numbers here for an alphabetical substitution. So I had to get rid of some. If you look,” she pointed to something with her pen, “there are various strings of numbers that add up to eight. Cross those out,” she flipped over the paper, “and you are left with these numbers and these stops. Then you run the numbers up and down the fence.”

Olivia had no idea what Georgiana was saying, but Crispin must have understood some of it because his frown was intent. “ L is the twelfth number in the alphabet. That is a seventeen.”

“Yes, but three Q ’s? No message would have three Q ’s. And there are not three U ’s. So you have to subtract five. Or add two or three, but it didn’t work with three S ’s or three T ’s, which I also considered.”

Crispin laughed, a peeved sort of laugh. “Of course. Eliminate strings of eight. Subtract five. How on earth did you come up with this?”

Olivia glanced at Benjamin to see if he, too, was awed, but found him looking at her . He blinked and shifted his attention to Georgiana, but did not move his arm away and neither did she.

Georgiana was flushed. “It is just seeing the patterns. And a little trial and error.”

Crispin gaped a moment, then he dropped into a nearby chair, stretched his legs in front of him, and said, “You are a marvel. Reg, may I take her back with me?”

“No. And because I suspect you are serious, I will say again, no.”

“Wellington will be pleased. He might even deign to say so.” Crispin’s smile was so broad, Olivia could see a mouthful of teeth. Then it faltered. “But the next string could be different. Adding to six instead of eight. Or there will not be three Q ’s.” He frowned, rubbing his chin. “I suppose now that we know what type of cipher we are trying to decode…but I don’t know anyone who would see the patterns as quickly as you do.”

Georgiana shook her head. “It was actually quite simple. Whoever constructed it must have been in a hurry.”

Crispin laughed. He stood again, took up Georgiana’s hand, and planted a kiss on the back of it. With an earnestness that was unlike him, he said, “Your country thanks you.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I am not.” He turned around, letting his gaze pass over them all. “None of this is to leave this room. If it turns up in the London Times , as these things are wont to do, all Georgiana’s efforts are for naught.” He paused a moment, as if suddenly noticing Miss Jamison, whom he did not know. “Please,” he said, eyes darkening. “Not a word to anyone.”

Despite the “please,” Olivia thought he sounded threatening. Everyone else must have thought so also because they all murmured assurances, either staring at him wide-eyed or looking down at their feet.

Crispin nodded briskly, then said, “Now I must go down to the kitchen and forage. I haven’t eaten since daybreak.”

“Sit,” Mama said. “We will send for a plate.”

He grimaced. “No. My way is better.” He took a few steps for the door. “And then I am off to find my bed.”

Jasper rose and stepped into his path. “Will you be kind enough to assure us you will still be here in the morning?”

Crispin drew in a breath, then made a mocking bow. “As you wish, Iversley. My intention is to attend church services in the morning. Then eat Christmas supper with my loving family. After that, my plans depend upon the weather. May I take my leave now?”

Jasper stood aside. “I only half trust you are telling the truth.”

Crispin left, laughing. All the energy went out of the room with him.

Georgiana got up, pushing a fist to her back. “I’m afraid I must retire also.”

Reg jumped to his feet, ready to assist.

Miss Jamison said, “Hannah is fair worn out. Thank you, for including us—”

“Is she sleeping? I’ll carry her,” Benjamin said, rising quickly. His arm brushed Olivia’s. Had he done it on purpose? Or might he think she had?

They all shuffled about, saying their goodnights. Olivia walked down the corridor of the family’s wing alongside Alice until they reached Alice’s door. She seemed as pensive as Olivia felt, though surely, they had different reasons.

As Alice put a hand to her door, she murmured, “Merry Christmas,” in a tone that was anything but merry.

Olivia couldn’t bear to see her downcast on Christmas Eve. Since they were now alone, she asked, “Alice, did Miss Jamison’s story disturb you?”

She looked confused for a moment, then shook her head. “Oh, that. Momentarily.”

“But you won’t be a nanny—”

Alice drew back and laughed a bit indignantly. “Well, I might, but I wasn’t disturbed for myself. It’s that this is the plight of so many women.” Then she tossed her head. “It’s not something you could ever fathom. If the impossible were to happen and you don’t marry, your brothers will fight over who gets to take you in, not who must support you.” Her expression turned abashed. “I’m sorry to speechify. If I seem deficient in holiday spirit, it has nothing to do with Miss Jamison.”

“Then—”

“It’s just that when Crispin arrived, I thought for a moment it might be Hazard.” Stunned, Olivia gaped, and Alice laughed. “I know, I know! It’s Crispin ! I’m not disappointed to see him. But I’ve been wanting to talk to Hazard.” She sniffed. “I can’t write to him, obviously, which is ridiculous.” Glancing away, she drew in a deep breath, then sighed. “Well. Crispin will do. Merry Christmas, Olivia.” She opened her door and went into her chamber.

“Merry Christmas.” Olivia stood another moment, regarding the closing door. Then she snorted. Crispin would do ?