Daughter of the God-King(8)

“That’s the spirit, Hathor,” offered Bing with approval. “One need only inspire second thoughts.”

With a guilty start, Hattie realized they were speaking at cross purposes and pulled her attention back to Robbie’s strange situation. “It does defy credulity, Bing—I am certain his parents know nothing of this engagement. It seems so unlike him; and to have chosen such a woman—”

“Infamous,” agreed Bing. “There is no choosing between you.”

“I am unlucky in love,” she teased. “Recall that I lost the curate, too.”

“Well then; I wash my hands of the sterner sex,” pronounced her supporter with equanimity. “Although the Baron seemed rather épris, if I may say so.”

Hattie shuddered. “I’d as lief retreat back to Cornwall—whatever is he thinking?”

“May-December,” sniffed Bing. “A shame we cannot arrange to switch with Mr. Tremaine.”

Hattie chuckled and decided that all in all, she was not as devastated as she should be with the ruination of her latest plan to escape her dull day-to-day existence in the Cornish countryside. The only child of world-renowned Egyptologists, she had spent a solitary childhood because her parents were more often in Thebes than in England, digging around in the sand and in the process catching the imagination of their countrymen, who were looking for any distraction from the never-ending war. Chafing at this state of affairs, Hattie had grown up to be independent-minded and scornful of the restraints imposed upon young females, although there was little point in challenging authority as there was little authority exerted over her in the first place. Fortunately, her tendency toward recklessness had been tempered by Miss Swansea, Hattie’s gentle governess who was more friend than mentor and had dutifully remained at her post even after Hattie reached the august age of eighteen years—her parents apparently unaware that this milestone had been achieved.

Longing to travel and see the world, Hattie had secretly cherished the hope her parents would send for her once she reached adulthood, but the invitation—unfortunately—was not forthcoming. In a fever of impatience, she decided it was past time to arrange her life to her own satisfaction and that satisfaction necessarily was to be found somewhere beyond the rugged Cornish countryside—Hattie knew herself for a restless soul.

To make matters that much worse, Hattie was almost painfully envious of the boy next door, who was attached in some way to the Diplomatic Corps and was often called away for assignments that he spoke of only in the vaguest of terms. After careful consideration, it seemed that the most likely avenue of escape would be to convince him that she would make an excellent helpmeet, and so to this end, she embarked upon a campaign to marry Robbie.

After mulling it over, Hattie had concluded that the best strategy for presenting oneself as a marital prospect to someone who had never considered one in such a light was to procure a rival suitor. However, as her acquaintanceship was limited, she was forced to settle upon the local curate as the appropriate stalking horse, even though he was some fifteen years her senior. Although she felt a stab of guilt at using him in such a way, she assuaged her conscience by reflecting that at his age, he held no interest in romance, anyway.

In this, however, she was mistaken. The curate readily accepted her invitations to tea but sat and shyly contemplated Miss Swansea, who blushed with eyes downcast under his scrutiny. Looking from one to the other, Hattie foresaw the failure of her plan with good grace and reassessed her campaign. Before she could come up with an alternate, however, she was forced to absorb the double blow of losing Miss Swansea to matrimony and losing Robbie yet again, when he left suddenly without even saying goodbye, leaving Hattie to bedevil his father into admitting, with a bland expression, that it had something to do with the Congress, and he wasn’t expected back any time soon.

Into this inauspicious situation Bing had arrived, hired by her parents to replace Miss Swansea. Bing’s brother Edward had been an Egyptologist employed by Hattie’s parents but he had been killed in a cave-in—an unfortunate occupational hazard. As Edward had been supporting his spinster sister, the Blackhouses offered Bing the post as Hattie’s companion and so solved two problems at once.

It soon became apparent that Bing was a bluestocking of the first order and intensely interested in Egyptology; therefore it came as a severe blow to the new arrival to learn the Blackhouse manor contained no artifacts and that the only offspring of the famous couple had little interest in anything remotely Nineteenth Dynasty. Fortunately for Hattie, however, she had little difficulty in convincing Bing that they should visit Robbie in Paris—Hattie had read that the Congress was in recess and the city was quite festive as a result. There were plenty of funds at hand to undertake such a journey—Hattie’s neglectful parents had nonetheless seen to it she had the means to live very comfortably—and with a companion in tow, it was the perfect excuse to have an adventure and at the same time, meet up with Robbie and convince him she’d be no bother if he’d just please marry her. Unfortunately, it seemed that someone else had convinced him first and she was left with no other immediate plan than to acquire a decent dress and discover who this Berry person was—hopefully in that order.