An Elaborate Hoax (A Gentlemen of Worth Book 5) (15 page)

“He suggests we go out hunting. I’m relieved that he partakes in traditional gentlemen’s activities.” This did not entirely amend David’s opinion of the baronet’s choice of hobbies. “And I had thought him a quiz.”

“There is something that will occupy your time!” She sounded pleased for him.

“He’ll have to supply me with a hunter, if we are to ride, and a firearm, but I expect he knows that already. We only have a few donkeys and not a single worthwhile hunting rifle in the house. Not that I know of, anyway.” Hunting while at the Willows would prove problematic. “I do believe Hendricks has packed the right clothes. Most likely I will be properly turned out for the occasion.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” she said in a playful tone.

“Do you consider me a dandy, by any chance?” David thought, perhaps, they might be returning to the easy conversation they had once shared.

“Not at all. It is only that in all the years I have known you, I have never seen you less than appropriately dressed for any situation.”

“That might be a compliment,” he said, wary of the repercussions that could follow. That she spoke kindly of him boded well.

“Possibly,” she replied.

He nodded and decided to accept it as such.

“When will you go?”

“Tuesday morning.”

“That’s the day of our dinner party.” Penny shrugged. “Sir Benjamin wrote this before we issued the invitation. He could not have known.”

“Perhaps we will hunt something to add to the table.” David wondered what their prey might be. “It’s a bit early for fowl. Perhaps he means to ride for venison or rabbit.”

“That would be—” Penny turned away from him to laugh.

“Exactly so.” There it was. Her laughter; it sounded like Victory to his ears. “You can surely imagine my relief when I read
hunting
. It don’t matter; as long as we ain’t collecting honey or grafting trees in the orchard.”

After dinner had been consumed that evening, the three regular participants departed together. Penny followed Mrs. Sutton out of the dining room to the small parlor where she would retire with her book. She paused before entering, noticing David, who trailed by some length, had not followed the ladies but continued down the corridor.

He would spend another evening alone doing who-knows-what.

She wondered but understood he had every right to spend his time in any fashion he chose. Truth be told, Penny did not wish another uncomfortable evening as last night had been. She rather looked forward to reading her book and retrieved her shawl from the chair where she had left it earlier, draping it around her shoulders before settling opposite Mrs. Sutton. Lifting her book from the table next to her chair, Penny could not help but be a bit curious as to David’s whereabouts.

She opened her book and paged back, reading a few paragraphs to remind herself what was happening in the story. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of David entering the room. Without a word, he proceeded past them and sat in a corner chair at the other end of the sofa, opening a large volume he had brought with him.

So he had decided to try his hand at reading. Penny focused her attention on her own story. Not two minutes had passed before a soft rumbling sounded, emanating from behind her. It had been an age since she’d heard that sound, and not from a
husband
quite as young as he.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Sutton commented when a subsequent sonorous reverberation grew with a sudden snort in intensity.

“Oh dear, indeed.” Penny clutched at her shawl, drawing it tighter around her shoulders. “I wonder if we should wake him.”

Mrs. Sutton stared over her spectacles. “I don’t think we should—”

“What’s that, then?” David’s head jerked upright, and his eyelids flew open. “There’s no need to
wake
me. I am not sleeping.”

“I beg your pardon. I am mistaken,” Penny admitted without further argument, and with a mutual fleeting glance the ladies returned to their occupation.

For some ten minutes they continued to read in silence with only the crackling of the fire as background noise before the rumbling behind them returned. Penny turned in her chair to peer at the source.

David’s eyes were closed and his mouth open. There was no doubt he had fallen asleep.

With the continual drone, both Penny and Mrs. Sutton attempted to stifle their chuckles. The companion held her book to her lips. Her eyes creased into crescents with suppressed mirth. Penny pressed her lips together to prevent any sound from escaping. For the most part, they kept their composure.

“You two giggle as if you were a couple of schoolgirls,” David drawled with a sleepy tinge to his voice.

“If you wish to sleep, Master David, why do you not go to bed?” It was a struggle for Mrs. Sutton to speak without giving in to laughter.

“I was not sleeping. I was merely contemplating a passage I read.” It was a weak defense, and he did not sound at all convincing with his groggy reply.

“Do you always snore while you
contemplate
?” Penny bit back her own chuckle.

“I was not snoring.” He made an effort to straighten in his chair, which appeared to her further proof of his momentary slumber. David was stretching his muscles.

“It was very noisy contemplation, indeed, then.”

“I will not remove to my bedchamber before half past seven!” This last was said with strong conviction.

“Perhaps we should find you another book, sir.” Penny replaced her bookmark, ready to set her volume aside. “What is it you are reading?”

He glanced at the title and groaned. “Something about crop rotation.”

Mrs. Sutton made a sound somewhere between a choke and a gasp, then cleared her throat.

“Hardly a subject that would hold your interest, I think.” Penny’s
only confirmation from him was a
humph
.

“There were hundreds of books in the library, and that was the one I chose.” He allowed the tome to close. “Ill luck, that.”

“You must admit he did try.” Mrs. Sutton attempted to restore his pride after poking fun at him. “This is the very first time I’ve seen him sit with a book after dinner.”

“Did you not read the spines first before making a selection?” Penny’s suggestion made good sense to him now. No, David had not bothered to peruse the shelves for an interesting title.

“Perhaps a travelogue or an historiography would be more interesting to you, Master David?”

“What is it you are reading, Mrs. Sutton?” He stood and approached the ladies, abandoning his book on a table.

“Sonnets by—” The companion was silenced by his soft groan.

“And you, Mrs. Cavanaugh, are you finding your selection entertaining?”

“I am,” Penny replied. “It is about a boy who is kidnapped by a smuggler and carried away from Scotland.”

“That sounds all right. May I see?” David held out his hand, appearing eager to take the novel. He settled upon the sofa, opened the book, flipped a few pages in, and leaned toward the light. “
Introduction
. . . oh bother, no need to read that.”

“But, sir, you cannot omit the . . .” Penny tried to advise him. “There are a great many details—”

“I’ll go back and read it if it matters.” He continued to flip through the pages.

“
If
it matters?” She had never heard anything so preposterous. How could he possibly be so dismissive? Penny drew in a deep breath to calm herself. “The author would not have written an introduction if one were not necessary.”

“Where is it? Where
is
it . . .
Chapter one
. . .
chapter one
. . .” He continued to search for what he thought was the beginning. “Ah, here we go.” David shifted his position on the sofa, settling himself for an extended period. Holding the book open before him with one hand, he rested his free arm across the back of the sofa and began to read aloud.

He read with genuine feeling, painting the picture of the dismal setting Sir Walter Scott had described so well in the first few paragraphs. It must have been his soothing baritone and the realistic accents he used to convey the author’s words and distinguish each character.

By Mrs. Sutton’s expression, she so enjoyed listening it appeared she gave no further thought to her own sonnets and had allowed that book to rest on her lap.

Penny preferred David’s lively performance of
Guy Mannering
vastly more than reading it silently to herself. She reached for the basket containing her embroidery hoop to resume her needlework, which she usually reserved for the afternoons. The more David read, the more she understood that she would not be the only person following the adventures of Guy Mannering.

From that evening on, the three of them would gather there after dinner to hear David read another chapter or two. It would not surprise her if soon his grandmother joined them. No doubt after he had finished this novel she might agree to have him read
Emma
aloud to them, or perhaps that author’s next work.

Chapter Fourteen

L
ate Tuesday afternoon, the scheduled day of the Pelfry dinner party
, L
ady Pelfry and her sister, Miss Lemmon, arrived much earlier than expected to visit the rapidly improving Mrs. Cavanaugh. Sir Benjamin, they informed Penny, would be along shortly as he had been out hunting that morning with David.

“More visitors! I am prodigiously delighted you have taken the time to see me.” Grandmother Cavanaugh settled onto the settee in her bedchamber and motioned to her neighbors to approach.

“It has been an age since I’ve called.” Lady Pelfry neared and sounded rather embarrassed at her perceived neglect.

“Think nothing of it. I have had so much company these last few days, although I have dearly longed to see you. Only a quarter of an hour ago Dr. Harding stopped by.”

“It has been quite some time since I have seen him as well.” Some form of regret clearly took hold of Lady Pelfry. “Although Sir Benjamin hears from him frequently, we do not see him often.” Lady Pelfry glanced at the small bunch of flowers she held. “We have brought these for you.”

“These are
my
roses? But they cannot be from my garden.” Grandmother Cavanaugh gladly received the small bouquet of familiar scarlet-colored roses but appeared confused. “How is it possible? I know mine are not currently in bloom.”

“These are from
our
rosebushes. Sir Benjamin took slips from yours years ago. Do you not recall?”

“Yes, why of course. What a wonderful surprise! I do thank you and Sir Benjamin. Will you see these are placed in water?” The handful of blooms was carefully passed to her companion. “And, Sutton, if you will be so good as to set them here”—Madam indicated the small table—“right next to me and my new silhouettes.” She glanced at Penny and added, “My dear Mrs. Cavanaugh had them made for me. Are they not lovely?”

Lady Pelfry turned her attention to the frames and studied them. “They are quite fine, indeed.”

“I do not recall seeing them yesterday afternoon when I read to you.” The most adorable crease appeared between Miss Lemmon’s brows during her brief moment of uncertainty.

“This is a new addition, arriving only moments before the both of you.” Grandmother Cavanaugh looked very pleased with the portraits. “My lady, I must tell you how much I appreciate your allowing Miss Lemmon to visit. She is forever bearing gifts from Manfred Place and spends an inordinate amount of time reading to me, as do Dr. Harding’s sisters, and dear Mrs. Cavanaugh, here.”

David’s grandmother was absolutely glowing. With each subsequent visitor, she appeared to flourish, her mood and health improving. She looked so very happy.

“We are all enjoying Emma’s story, Madam.” Miss Lemmon turned to address her sister. “Charity, you cannot imagine how entertaining it is or how much pleasure we glean from reading it together. It is most delightful to speculate on what will happen next!”

“I have found myself regretting that I have not been able to be here with you ladies.” Lady Pelfry sounded almost hurt at her omission from their group.

“But we have only recently finished with the first volume. Why do you not borrow it?” Grandmother Cavanaugh waved Penny toward the dresser where the book lay. “Then, perhaps, you might join us on occasion.”

“That sounds very well, I thank you.” Lady Pelfry accepted the book from Penny.

“There are a few chapters I have missed as well,” Miss Lemmon whispered to her sister. “Perhaps we can read it together, Charity.”

“I should like that,” Lady Pelfry replied, then turned her attention to Madam. “It is a shame you will not be able to join us at the table this evening.”

“I am hoping I shall be able to the next time you dine at the Willows.” Mrs. Cavanaugh sounded very determined to do just that and added, “I’m certain I will.”

“We do hope so. I know Sir Benjamin would very much like to see you up and about.” Lady Pelfry spoke freely for her husband.

“He is such a dear man, sending his home remedies and health tonics. I vow I do not know where I would be without him.” Grandmother Cavanaugh’s eyes grew dewy. “I do know but that is such a lowering thought that I care not to dwell upon it.”

“Which reminds me,” Lady Pelfry continued. “He has sent with us a bottle of the raspberry-flavored coughing draught. He knows you prefer it to the lemon.”

“That man is such a treasure!”

“Do you not think I am aware of exactly whom I married?” Lady Pelfry relayed with pride, and any ill feelings that lingered had vanished with praise of her husband. “I truly adore him.”

Mrs. Sutton then entered, carrying a small vase containing the roses. The flowers would bring Grandmother Cavanaugh much pleasure and somehow aid in her recovery. The companion announced, “Sir Benjamin was just entering the house when the dinner gong sounded. I expect Master David will be on his way down to the drawing room soon.”

“I’m afraid we must go now.” Lady Pelfry’s voice held a tinge of regret. “I thank you for the loan of your novel. Belle and I shall begin reading tomorrow. I expect we will not have time this evening.”

“It is too bad that you cannot join us. I hate to leave you alone.” Miss Lemmon managed to display an adorable, compassionate expression, showing her genuine empathy for Madam.

“Do not have a thought on my behalf, my dear. Sutton is dining with me tonight, and I am to have my first taste of beef broth.” The excitement of consuming what Mrs. Cavanaugh had been craving for nearly a week came close to overwhelming her. “Dr. Harding tells me a slice of beefsteak may soon follow!”

David stood at the portal of the drawing room and took in the sight of the guests. Sir Benjamin, it seemed, had just arrived and was now making his bows to the ladies. By the look of him, he had rusticated far too long. Any Town bronze had since faded.

The baronet was dressed in a well-fitting, burgundy-colored jacket and smart gray trousers. His neckcloth was worn not in an acceptable style but constructed in a casual attempt, with the limp linen simply tied and allowed to hang from his throat.

Merely setting eyes upon it prompted David to touch his Mathematical, assuring his linen had not suffered the same sad fate. He took notice of Miss Lemmon, in a pastel-pink frock, and Lady Pelfry, garbed in a dark shade of puce with one of those matron caps, who together resembled an assembly of spring flowers. Then there was Penny. She was a veritable vision, dressed in a gown of Pomona green, reminding David of the foliage that completed the floral bouquet. She completely, in his humble opinion, quite outshined them. Her cap, constructed from a very fine, sheer material, created the illusion of a halo. She appeared very comfortable and very much at home acting as the rightful hostess of the Willows.

“There you are, Mr. Cavanaugh!” Lady Pelfry’s summons left David no choice but to enter, ending his reflective study.

“Ladies! How lovely it is to see you all,” he greeted them. “You have awakened me from my reverie, Lady Pelfry.” After lifting her hand to his lips, he moved his gaze from her to her sister, then to his
wife
. Upon nearing them he confessed, “I was just taking a moment for myself. I hope you do not mind.”

“Not at all,” Lady Pelfry replied. Her half-hidden, coy smile did not escape his notice.

David inclined his head and uttered, “Sir Benjamin. I am relieved you are present. I had feared we might have tarried too long this afternoon.”

“Not to worry, all is well.” The baronet shrugged. The women resumed their discussion, and the two males sidestepped away from the ladies to separate their conversations. They kept their voices soft. “It is a shame we were not successful in the field today.”

“Well,” David said with a great sigh. “One does the best one can, doesn’t one? Is that not why they call it
sport
?”

“You are correct. We made a valiant attempt, and that is all we can do,” Sir Benjamin, sounding somewhat relieved, replied. “You have an excellent outlook on life, sir.”

“What a gracious compliment.” David bowed to his neighbor, who in turn returned the gesture. He had every certainty Sir Benjamin had been sincere.

“I hate to let the ladies learn of our failure.”

“Never fear, I shall not breathe a word unless I am pressed for specifics.”

“If you are not, I am sure to be.” Sir Benjamin exhaled as if resigned to his fate. “My lady insists on involving herself in all my endeavors.”

“Then we shall face the humiliation together if need be.” David could not be any less concerned about any disappointment in their morning’s occupation. As far as he was concerned, the time spent in the field was a complete waste. “Shall we take the ladies in?”

“By all means,” Sir Benjamin agreed.

“Lady Pelfry, if I may have the honor?” David offered his right arm to Lady Pelfry and his left to Miss Lemmon and led them into the dining room. Sir Benjamin escorted Penny and followed several steps behind.

David was ostensibly occupied, with a lady on each arm, but he spied the baronet speaking to Penny. Their heads were tilted ever so slightly closer, and her soft laughter was unmistakable to David’s ear.
What was that rascal saying to her?

Lady Pelfry sat to David’s right, Miss Lemmon on the left. Sir Benjamin seated Penny, spending far too long at the task, before alighting in the chair next to his sister-in-law. David thought he was much too far from Penny and Sir Benjamin, he deemed, much too close.

“I hope you do not mind that we dine
en famille
,” Penny announced at the entrance of staff laden with the soup tureen and several covered dishes. “Madam insisted.”

“Of course not,” Lady Pelfry replied. “We are honored.”

The beef joint was placed near Sir Benjamin, while the roast chicken occupied the head of the table. The side dishes of vegetables were placed close to the center. A platter containing a wonderful fruit tart soon joined them.

“Ah, excellent, here are the parsnips we sent yesterday.” The baronet peered into the serving dish. “And boiled to perfection, I believe.”

“Did you find anything this morning, dear?” Lady Pelfry inquired with more than casual interest. “I know you were hoping to add to the sauce.”

“We were not as successful as I would have hoped,” Sir Benjamin replied.

“What was it you were hunting for, sir?” Penny asked him. A faint, nearly inaudible sigh—perhaps it was more akin to a groan, a sound with which she was all too familiar—came from the head of the dining table.

Hazarding a glance in that direction, she looked down the center of the table and detected, even at that distance, that her
husband
was most grievously displeased.

“We scouted round the birch orchard and paid particular attention to the small grove of poplars just to the south, yet we found nothing. I say
we
as if Mr. Cavanaugh and I could ferret them out. What I mean to say is:
the dogs
.”

“The dogs?” Penny did not quite understand.

“Yes, Sir Benjamin’s dogs
hunt
truffles,” David explained in an overly calm manner.

“Oh . . .” Penny managed but did not fully comprehend. “
Truffles?
I don’t believe I have ever heard of—”

“One does not eat them whole. They are shaved very thin and placed on many types of food, added to sauces, or used to flavor oils or butters. They have a most remarkable flavor. Truffles can transform a dish into something quite extraordinary.”

Penny had not heard Sir Benjamin speak with such fervor since sitting at the breakfast table with him at Faraday Hall more than five years ago. He had expounded upon the qualities and merits of oranges and to greater extent lemons, and she had suspected he could also include their close relation, the lime.

Gracious, it was amazing she could remember that in such detail after all this time. It was good to learn he had not limited his obsessions to citrus fruit and had branched out to include truffles. He was now going on about how they were fungi but quite unlike mushrooms despite their shared classification. The latter grew above the earth while the former grew underground, which made the use of trained dogs in their detection necessary—