My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)(33)

“What does this have to do with our mission?” Mr. Blackwood asked. “Why do I care who Mr. Rochester intends to marry?”

“Because she’s our ticket to Thornfield Hall. We’ll request the Ingrams’ help on the matter. We’ll say we’re members of the Society on a secret mission, and ask if they might allow three people to join their ensemble for a short time, stay at Millcote and accompany them when they go calling on Mr. Rochester.”

“Three people?”

“Yourself, Bran, and me, of course. But I’m going to need a mask.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Mr. Blackwood was frowning again. “Why would you need a mask?”

“Because I’m going to pose as a member of the Society along with you. Until I can become an official member of the Society, later.”

“No. No mask.” Mr. Blackwood folded his arms.

Miss Bront? looked at him coolly.

He looked back.

She didn’t blink.

His mouth twisted unhappily.

“It actually does sound somewhat brilliant, as plans go,” piped up Branwell.

Charlotte smiled at her brother gratefully.

Mr. Blackwood sighed yet again. (With all that sighing, air might soon be in short supply inside the inn.) “All right,” he said at last. “I do have an extra mask.”

Everything turned out exactly as Charlotte had planned. (Just kidding. As skilled as Charlotte was at concocting wild-but-ingenious schemes, they almost never turned out as she planned. Remember this for future reference, dear reader.) The first snag they hit was that Mrs. Ingram was not at home. Upon their arrival they were allowed into the parlor for receiving but informed that the mistress of the house was out for the entirety of the afternoon. Would they like to wait for her? It was uncertain when she would return.

“We would,” Charlotte answered just as Mr. Blackwood asked, “Is there anyone else we can converse with?”

So they were presented to the young Miss Ingram, the daughter, the one Charlotte had understood to be marrying Mr. Rochester sometime soon.

“Well, isn’t this a droll little circus troupe,” the young lady drawled from where she was reclining on a satin-upholstered chaise in the drawing room. She looked Charlotte up and down with an expression of utter disdain in her large black eyes. She was beautiful, Miss Ingram—that much was undeniable. Charlotte had probably never seen a more attractive person. Her crown of carefully braided hair was glossy and black, her bust was tall and fine, her neck swanlike, her complexion perfect—any part of Miss Ingram could have inspired poetry. Charlotte immediately jotted down a few notes for a future character sketch. But she also found Miss Ingram unkind in the way she glanced over at Bran wearing his glasses over his mask and smirked at how silly and nervous he looked. Then her gaze landed on Mr. Blackwood, and she smiled more brightly.

“Who are you, exactly?” she asked.

Charlotte started to answer, but Bran cleared his throat. Which meant allow Mr. Blackwood to speak for us, please, which she knew was the proper thing to do. So she clamped her teeth together and listened to Mr. Blackwood explain that they were members of the Society, who had been tasked with a secret mission of the utmost importance.

“What kind of mission?” Miss Ingram wanted to know.

“The secret kind,” Bran said.

Charlotte flashed him a warning glance.

Miss Ingram gave a hard laugh. “Oh. The secret kind. Which would involve you staying in our home and helping yourselves to our food and being part of our company.” She stared at Mr. Blackwood again. “Although I don’t suppose I’d mind if you stayed.”

“The Society would be willing to compensate you for any expenses we might incur.” Mr. Blackwood’s jaw was tight, Charlotte noticed. He didn’t like Miss Ingram, either. A show of his good character.

“Would you always wear the masks?” Miss Ingram asked.

“No,” Alexander explained patiently. “We’d like to be introduced as new acquaintances of yours who are visiting at your request. We’d use false identities. And again, as I mentioned, it would only be for a short time.”

“It sounds rather scandalous,” she said.

“We’d act in perfect civility,” he promised. “We’d only be present—for a short time, as I said—to listen and participate in certain group excursions. You will hardly notice we’re here.”

Miss Ingram wasn’t convinced. “This is just so strange a request.”

“The Society would be most grateful for your cooperation. They would never send us here on such a task if it weren’t imperative.”

“I’d agree if it was only you, perhaps,” Miss Ingram said, staring up at his face again. “You’re charming enough.”

He shook his head. “No. It must be all three of us.”

She sighed. “Then I’m afraid I must refuse. We don’t allow strange individuals the run of our home. We are a very prestigious family, and can’t afford any little slip that might tarnish our reputation.”

They would have been sunk, but just then the dowager Mrs. Ingram swept into the room in a flurry of black satin and pearls.

“Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed when she saw the three masked persons standing there. “Are you members of the Society, by chance?”