Page 45 of Holly & Folly

Archie raised a brow, watching as Miss Prescott battled what he could only assume were three priorities: propriety, a desire to win this ill-advised exercise in education, and the growing need to think of something besides the bowel.

“I should like that,” she said, putting the book aside.

“So soon?” Archie said. “Well, I bid you good evening, then, ladies.”

They both curtsied and left the room, and as he read one more paragraph, all Archie could think was that Elinor Prescott was something out of the ordinary.

Twelve

NELL

Nell knocked on Millie’s door, hoping her friend had not already gone to breakfast. Millie had acquired a mystery admirer, and Nell was anxious to hear if any progress had been made toward discovering his identity.

Muffled voices could be heard within, but the door soon opened.

A maid with blonde hair under her cap appeared. It was Clara, the same maid who had given Nell jumbled directions the first evening at Bellthorne.

Millie dismissed Clara, and Nell stepped aside for her to pass, then entered the room. “I heard voices and assumed it was your maid.”

“I hoped Clara might help me find whoever is sending me notes.”

“Did she?”

“Not yet, but I am hopeful.” She regarded Nell curiously. “I can only assume you come with news.”

“I was hoping you would tell me whether you had learned anything more about those anonymous notes, but I see that it is every bit the mystery it has been.”

Millie sat on the trunk at the base of her bed and sighed. “I do not understand why the man has not made himself known if he admires me so.”

Nell sat beside her. “Men are strange creatures.”

Millie looked over at Nell, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. “Do you include Lord Dalmeer in that assessment?”

Nell pulled back a bit to regard her friend.

“Come, Nell. I know you are keeping something from me, and I am even more certain it is about him.” She took Nell’s hands. “I know you, and I have seen the way you two are together.”

Heat rushed into Nell’s cheeks, and she scrambled for an explanation. But Nell also knew Millie well enough to realize that it would be better to tell her the truth than to have her run away with romantic notions about what was, in reality, a practical arrangement.

“What you have seen,” Nell said, “is an orchestrated performance.”

Millie’s eyes narrowed.

Nell pressed her lips together, trying to decide how to explain the incomprehensible choice she and Lord Dalmeer had made. “The earl and I agreed to act as a sort of…shield for one another.”

“Meaning…”

“I did not wish to be pursued by Mr. Fowell, and the earl did not wish to submit to his mother’s matchmaking schemes. He wishes to make her understand that she cannot dictate to him in the matter, so he chose to spend time with me—the person she least wishes him to.” She forced a smile.

Nell had been well aware that Lady Dalmeer disliked her since before she had met the earl. Why, then, did speaking that truth aloud feel heavier now than it had before?

Millie gave an incredulous laugh. “That is brilliant! And how amusing it must be for both of you.”

“It has certainly made the party more pleasant than it would have been.” Nell grasped Millie’s hands tighter. “But please do not say anything to Wesley. I am certain he would not approve, and I quite understand why. I did not wish for him to worry over Mr. Fowell’s unwanted attentions, but I am quite sure I have chosen an equally foolish path in this arrangement to avoid them.”

“I shan’t say anything,” Millie said. “But you must know your brother only wishes for your happiness, and no one who saw you and Lord Dalmeer together could assume the two of you are anything other than happy.” She put up a hand to stop Nell’s objection. “I know you say it is all performance, but, Nell,”—she lifted a brow—“I do not think it is. And”—she cut Nell off before she could reply—“the fact that he chose you as the person to make such an arrangement with speaks volumes of his regard.”

Nell scoffed. “He chose me with the express intent of irritating his mother, Millie. That is the opposite of regard. And understandably so. My reputation is⁠—”