Part 20 (1/2)
”You look as if you've got the plague,” Elizabeth said.
”No, I think that's on your neck,” Harriet replied, taking no offense whatsoever. ”Frances, you should get off the floor.”
Frances looked up at Elizabeth, who had slid back into the seat by the window. Elizabeth sighed and moved to the center.
”I'm just going to get bored again,” Frances said as soon as she was settled.
”No, you're not,” Hugh said firmly.
Sarah turned to look at him, amused and impressed. It took a brave man to take on the Pleinsworth girls.
”We shall find something to do,” he announced.
She waited for him to realize that could never be enough of an answer. Apparently her sisters were doing the same, for at least ten seconds pa.s.sed before Elizabeth asked him, ”Have you any suggestions?”
”He's brilliant with numbers,” Frances said. ”He can multiply monstrously huge sums in his head. I've seen him do it.”
”I can't imagine you will find it entertaining to quiz me at maths for nine hours,” he said.
”No, but it might be entertaining for the next ten minutes,” Sarah said, and she meant every word. How was it possible that she did not know this about him? She knew that he was very clever; Daniel and Marcus had both said so. She also knew that he had been considered unbeatable at cards. After all that had happened, there was no way she could not know that.
”How monstrously huge?” she asked, because truly, she wanted to know.
”At least four digits,” Frances said. ”That's what he did at the wedding breakfast. It was brilliant.”
Sarah peered over at Hugh. He seemed to be blus.h.i.+ng. Well, maybe just a little bit. Or maybe not. Maybe she just wanted him to be blus.h.i.+ng. There was something quite appealing about the notion.
But then she caught something else in his expression. She didn't know how to describe it, except that she suddenly knew . . .
”You can do more than four digits,” she said with wonder.
”It is a talent,” he said, ”that has brought me as much trouble as it has benefit.”
”May I quiz you?” Sarah asked, trying to keep some of the eagerness out of her voice.
He leaned toward her with a bit of smirk. ”Only if I can quiz you.”
”Spoilsport.”
”I might call you the same.”
”Later,” she said firmly. ”You are going to show me later.” She was fascinated by this newly revealed talent of Lord Hugh's. Surely he wouldn't mind one little equation. He'd done it for Frances.
”We can read one of my plays,” Harriet suggested. She started rifling through the stack of papers on her lap. ”I have the one I started just last night. You know, the one with the heroine who is not too pink-”
”And not too green!” Frances and Elizabeth finished excitedly.
”Oh,” Sarah said with great dismay. ”Oh oh oh oh. No.”
Lord Hugh turned to her with some amus.e.m.e.nt. ”Not too pink or green?” he murmured.
”It is a description of me, I'm afraid.”
”I . . . see.”
She gave him a look. ”Laugh. You know you want to.”
”She is also not too fat or thin,” Frances said helpfully.
”It's not actually Sarah,” Harriet explained. ”Just a character I've modeled upon her.”
”Quite closely,” Elizabeth added. With a grin.
”Here you are,” Harriet said, holding a small stack of papers across the carriage. ”I have only one copy, so you'll have to share.”
”Does this masterpiece have a name?” Hugh inquired.
”Not yet,” Harriet replied. ”I've found that I often must complete a play before I know what to call it. But it will be something terribly romantic. It's a love story.” She paused, her mouth twisting in thought. ”Although I'm not sure it will have a happy ending.”
”This is a romance?” Lord Hugh said with a dubious quirk of his brow. ”And I'm meant to be the hero?”
”We can't really use Frances,” Harriet said with no sarcasm whatsoever. ”And I've only got the one copy, so if Sarah is the heroine you've got to be the hero, since you're sitting next to her.”
He looked down. ”My name is Rudolfo?”
Sarah nearly spit out a laugh.
”You're Spanish,” Harriet said. ”But your mother was English, so you speak it perfectly.”
”Do I have an accent?”
”Of course.”
”Can't imagine why I asked,” he murmured. And then, to Sarah: ”Oh, look. Your name is Woman.”
”Typecast again,” Sarah quipped.
”I hadn't thought of a proper name yet,” Harriet explained, ”but I didn't want to hold up the entire ma.n.u.script. It could take me weeks to think of the right name. And by then I might have forgotten all of my ideas.”
”The creative process is a peculiar thing, indeed,” Lord Hugh murmured.
Sarah had been reading ahead while Harriet was speaking, and she was developing serious misgivings. ”I'm not certain this is a good idea,” she said, tugging the second page out of the pile so she could read further.
No, it definitely wasn't a good idea.
”Reading in a moving carriage is always a risk,” Sarah said quickly. ”Especially riding backwards.”
”You never get sick,” Elizabeth reminded her.
Sarah looked ahead to page three. ”I might.”