The Countess of Lostwithiel ran her hand over the fine, butter-soft leather, felt its quality, and heaved a long, wistful sigh. “Please call me Penny-and I would really love a pair like that. Can I inveigle you into telling me where you got them? On Guernsey, or farther afield? Not that I care-I’ll send Charles anywhere.”
“Actually, they’re from much nearer to hand.” Linnet grinned at Penny’s eager expression. “Exeter-there’s a leathermaker there I convinced to make them for me. I can give you his direction.”
Penny clasped her hands to her bosom, her face alight. “Wonderful! I’ve just decided what Charles can get me to make amends over me having to miss the action in this latest adventure.”
“I’m still working on what to wring from Deverell,” Phoebe said. “But I have another question. You said you conveyed Monteith to Plymouth on your ship. You own a ship? Do you sail it?”
Her lips curving irrepressibly, Linnet snapped a jaunty salute. “I’m afraid I left my captain’s hat on board, but I’m Captain Trevission, owner of Trevission Ships, and in particular, the barque the Esperance .” She glanced over her shoulder at Logan, lightly frowned. “Mind you, I’m not, at this precise moment, exactly sure where my ship is. My crew were seduced into letting me be carried off it, but I suspect the Esperance is currently riding in Plymouth Sound, safely tucked among His Majesty’s warships.”
The men had followed them into the hall. Logan heard her comment, smiled crookedly, and inclined his head.
“I think,” Phoebe said, tucking her arm in Linnet’s, “that you and I, Penny, should escort Captain Trevission to a nice guest room, and learn just how she’s achieved such things in no more years than we’ve had.”
“Indeed.” Penny took Linnet’s other arm. “Clearly there’s much here we can learn.”
When Phoebe paused to give instructions to her kindly butler and her efficient-looking housekeeper, Linnet glanced back at the three men, and saw Charles’s and Deverell’s faintly concerned expressions-remembered Charles’s comment about not giving their ladies ideas-and finally understood.
Smiling, she looked ahead and allowed Penny and Phoebe to sweep her up the stairs. “Actually, there is one thing you could help me with.” Reaching the head of the stairs, she glanced at Penny, confirming, as they started along the corridor, that they were much the same height and not dissimilar in shape. “In return for the direction of my breeches maker.”
“Anything!” Penny declared. “At the moment, I would even gift you with my firstborn-he’s been a handful all day, wanting to follow his father, of course.”
Linnet laughed. “Thank you, but I have one of those-well, not mine, but one of my wards. But I really do need some gowns.”
“My wardrobe is yours.” Penny smiled intently. “Just as long as you tell us all you know.”
“All,” Phoebe said, halting at a door along the main corridor, “that our dear husbands are keeping to their chests.”
She set the door swinging wide, then ushered Linnet in. “Now-how about a bath?”
She had, Linnet decided, landed in some strange heaven.
She’d never had feminine companionship like this-freely offered, from ladies of her own class, her own generation. It was… a revelation.
Under Phoebe’s direction, a bath had been prepared, and Linnet had luxuriated, then Penny had arrived with a selection of gowns, all of which she’d insisted Linnet take, assuring her, “I always pack so much more than I need.”
While Linnet had dressed, then dried and combed out her hair, the other two had perched in the window seat and they’d talked. They’d shared bits and pieces of their lives openly with her, and she’d found herself reciprocating.
She and Penny had exchanged tales of horses and riding, shipwrecks and sailing, and she’d listened with rapt attention while Phoebe had explained about her agency, then they’d listened with real interest while she’d described Mon Coeur and explained about her wards.
Phoebe had instantly volunteered her agency should any of Linnet’s brood ever want to find work in England. “I can always place well-educated young women, and even young men, as companions or personal secretaries.”
Linnet had had no idea aristocratic ladies were so engaged and active.
When she’d said so, Penny had pulled a face. “The sad truth is, a lot aren’t, but we are, and all those you’ll meet when you reach Elveden-the end of your journey-are like us, too. We have the position, the wherewithal, and the ability, and so we do. Sitting and embroidering is definitely not for us.”
Phoebe had laughed. “In fact, not many of us can embroider. Minerva, Royce’s wife, does, beautifully, and perhaps Alicia might. But most of us are not, as one might say, accomplished in that direction.”
Linnet had grinned. “In that respect, at least, I’ll fit in.”
By the time the three of them went downstairs to join the men for dinner, Linnet was, to her very real surprise, relaxed, at ease, and indeed, in that moment at least, enjoying herself.
Not that she didn’t have a bone or two to pick with Logan, but that would have to wait until later.
Over dinner, the others were eager to hear about Logan’s mission thus far, from its beginning in India to when he and Linnet had arrived at the Seafarer’s Arms.
Reassured that all was well with Linnet-very aware that it was at his insistence that she’d been forced into a world she wasn’t accustomed to, and that any consequent unhappiness would lie at his door, and thus relieved and cravenly grateful to Penny and Phoebe for smoothing her way-Logan set himself to succinctly but comprehensively satisfy their curiosity.
Linnet listened, too, no doubt adding flesh to the bare bones he’d previously revealed to her, but she left all questions to the others. Charles and Deverell were experienced interrogators; they knew what to ask to clarify his story.
When it came to Linnet’s part in it, he didn’t hold back. She blushed at his compliments, his very real praise, tried to deflect attention by claiming it was no more than anyone else would have done-which argument none of the others accepted.
Penny waved Linnet’s words aside. “There’s no help for it-you’re heroine material. No point trying to clamber off the pedestal. You’ll just have to get used to the height.”
Which shut Linnet up. Logan thought she was dumfounded, which in his admittedly short experience was a first.
He took pity on her and quickly summed up their time in Plymouth, which brought them to the present and Paignton Hall.
They paused to allow the empty dessert dishes to be cleared.
When the footmen had withdrawn, Deverell asked, “So your mission’s a decoy run?”
When Logan nodded, Charles said, “From the way Royce is managing the four individual threads of this action, I suspect Delborough’s most likely a decoy, too. Hamilton I’m not sure about.”
Logan thought of his comrades, of Gareth, and especially Rafe, about whom he’d yet to hear definite information. He stirred, looked down the table at Deverell, then across it at Charles. “So what now? Where to from here?”
Deverell raised his brows at Phoebe, at the other end of the table. “Shall we repair to the drawing room to make our plans?”
Phoebe nodded decisively. “Yes, let’s. Aside from all else, we ladies aren’t about to leave you gentlemen to swap secrets over the port. If you want any spirits, bring the decanters with you.”
Deverell checked with Charles and Logan, but as none of them felt the need for any further bolstering, they left the decanters on the sideboard and fell in on the ladies’ heels as they led the way to the drawing room.