her from halfway across the ballroom.
Three minutes after Charlotte’s conversation with Lady Tweetley, Harriet arrived by her side, breathless.
“The news has officially reached the other side of the ballroom. That was fast, even for Lady Tweetley! Who knew anyone cared so much about an architectural thingamajig.”
“The ton never ceases to amuse,” Charlotte said, linking arms with her friend. “Onward to phase two, Harriet!”
Arm in arm they proceeded to the card room where they sought out the lamentably named Mitchell Twitchell. He was predictably found wagering more than he could afford on dreadfully bad hands of cards in a game with the nefarious, despicable pet-eater, Lord Dudley.
The two girls stood behind him and began their strategic conversation.
“I overheard the most fierce wager,” Charlotte said to Harriet loudly. “I literally staggered when I heard it. And then I swooned.”
“Oh? What fierce wager did you overhear? I am all agog to know. I shall perish if you do not tell me this instant,” Harriet said. She dramatically draped her palm across her brow.
“It’s highly confidential,” Charlotte said.
“It must be immensely fascinating,” Harriet replied loudly.
“A fortune is at stake! All over a one of a kind treasure,” Charlotte declared.
“What’s this wager you speak of?” Mitchell Twitchell cut in, pushing back from the card table and leaning back to better converse with them.
“Oh, it’s the most fascinating thing, Mr. Twitchell. Lord Derby has wagered with the Earl of Sandwich that Lord Capulet possesses the very first book from the very first edition of The Hare Raising Adventures of George Coney . It’s a salacious memoir.”
“A book? How dull.”
Charlotte smiled benignly. She had anticipated that Mitchell would find a book boring. She doubted he even read his IOUs. However, James would find the book interesting, and it was James they sought. Mitchell would talk.
“Yes, well everyone is talking about it,” Charlotte told him. “I am assured all the most sporting gentlemen will gather there to witness the unveiling. If I were a gambling man, I would hate myself for missing it.”
“Really, how would you live with yourself if you missed it?” Harriet questioned sharply.
“I couldn’t. I simply could not go on,” Charlotte said gravely.
“Do you feel faint just thinking about it? I feel quite faint,” Harriet rasped.
“Let us retire to the ladies’ retiring room and restore ourselves with smelling salts.”
In fact, they proceeded directly to the library for phase three.
In the Library
The scene in the library was just delightful. At least two dozen party guests tromped through the room, bumping into all the furniture and each other because their necks were craned as they sought the Eversham Motif.
Lady Inchbald declared it a marvel.
Lord Talleyrand bumped into an occasional table, knocking over a crystal decanter of brandy, which shattered on the parquet floor.
Lord Hastings stood lecturing a small gathering on its cultural significance.
Lord Capulet stood in the center of it all, mopping the sweat from his brow. Charlotte could tell he was torn between protecting his newly constructed and decorated library and disavowing sole possession of the single most fantastic architectural detail in the world.
Which, she did not point out, did not exist.
James sidled up to her and she felt a spark of pleasure, like the first flame from a dried leaf under a magnifying glass on a hot day. He leaned in close and murmured something only she could hear.
“I’m not quite sure what you are planning, Charlotte, but did it really require most of the party tromping through the library, much to the dismay of Lord Capulet?”
“Oh, hello there, James,” she replied. “Have you come to see the settling of the wager over The Hare Raising Adventures of George Coney?”
Charlotte glanced to the right, where the Earl of Sandwich was combing the bookshelves
Three minutes after Charlotte’s conversation with Lady Tweetley, Harriet arrived by her side, breathless.
“The news has officially reached the other side of the ballroom. That was fast, even for Lady Tweetley! Who knew anyone cared so much about an architectural thingamajig.”
“The ton never ceases to amuse,” Charlotte said, linking arms with her friend. “Onward to phase two, Harriet!”
Arm in arm they proceeded to the card room where they sought out the lamentably named Mitchell Twitchell. He was predictably found wagering more than he could afford on dreadfully bad hands of cards in a game with the nefarious, despicable pet-eater, Lord Dudley.
The two girls stood behind him and began their strategic conversation.
“I overheard the most fierce wager,” Charlotte said to Harriet loudly. “I literally staggered when I heard it. And then I swooned.”
“Oh? What fierce wager did you overhear? I am all agog to know. I shall perish if you do not tell me this instant,” Harriet said. She dramatically draped her palm across her brow.
“It’s highly confidential,” Charlotte said.
“It must be immensely fascinating,” Harriet replied loudly.
“A fortune is at stake! All over a one of a kind treasure,” Charlotte declared.
“What’s this wager you speak of?” Mitchell Twitchell cut in, pushing back from the card table and leaning back to better converse with them.
“Oh, it’s the most fascinating thing, Mr. Twitchell. Lord Derby has wagered with the Earl of Sandwich that Lord Capulet possesses the very first book from the very first edition of The Hare Raising Adventures of George Coney . It’s a salacious memoir.”
“A book? How dull.”
Charlotte smiled benignly. She had anticipated that Mitchell would find a book boring. She doubted he even read his IOUs. However, James would find the book interesting, and it was James they sought. Mitchell would talk.
“Yes, well everyone is talking about it,” Charlotte told him. “I am assured all the most sporting gentlemen will gather there to witness the unveiling. If I were a gambling man, I would hate myself for missing it.”
“Really, how would you live with yourself if you missed it?” Harriet questioned sharply.
“I couldn’t. I simply could not go on,” Charlotte said gravely.
“Do you feel faint just thinking about it? I feel quite faint,” Harriet rasped.
“Let us retire to the ladies’ retiring room and restore ourselves with smelling salts.”
In fact, they proceeded directly to the library for phase three.
In the Library
The scene in the library was just delightful. At least two dozen party guests tromped through the room, bumping into all the furniture and each other because their necks were craned as they sought the Eversham Motif.
Lady Inchbald declared it a marvel.
Lord Talleyrand bumped into an occasional table, knocking over a crystal decanter of brandy, which shattered on the parquet floor.
Lord Hastings stood lecturing a small gathering on its cultural significance.
Lord Capulet stood in the center of it all, mopping the sweat from his brow. Charlotte could tell he was torn between protecting his newly constructed and decorated library and disavowing sole possession of the single most fantastic architectural detail in the world.
Which, she did not point out, did not exist.
James sidled up to her and she felt a spark of pleasure, like the first flame from a dried leaf under a magnifying glass on a hot day. He leaned in close and murmured something only she could hear.
“I’m not quite sure what you are planning, Charlotte, but did it really require most of the party tromping through the library, much to the dismay of Lord Capulet?”
“Oh, hello there, James,” she replied. “Have you come to see the settling of the wager over The Hare Raising Adventures of George Coney?”
Charlotte glanced to the right, where the Earl of Sandwich was combing the bookshelves
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