This is in response to the REGENCY CHALLENGE on WIKTT.
To those who have read and enjoyed, I hope you continue to do so. I have read every review with pleasure.
Please forgive my delays but, longtime no write, PhD keeps me up all night.
Now on with the story:
Chapter 11: Harold T Goodson
Miss Granger felt as though the earth had moved when in fact she felt the ladder give way beneath her, shocked her into a moment's insensibility before she felt the law of gravity take hold and she began to plummet to the floor; a very hard and unyielding floor as her head struck an unfortunate protuberance.
"Blast and Damnation," the owner of said protuberance uttered as he felt his nose, not yet fully healed from Miss Granger's attack, break under the sudden onslaught of Mr Goodson's head. Any further comment was forestalled as the rest of Mr Goodson landed squarely on the now prone Earl.
Now it was a well known fact that Lord Snape was a man of more than moderate understanding and he also possessed a keen eye for detail, or in this case a keen body. Thus, he observed that the veritable pink of the ton, Mr Goodson, who landed on him might have been many things, and the intrepid Earl definitely intended to discover those in time, but one thing that Mr Goodson was not was a 'he'; no man born of woman had ever had hips that felt like those hips that currently resting above his loins. A place, after some consideration, Lord Snape fervently wished that 'Mr Goodson' were not currently situated as the male impostor wriggled slightly whilst trying to sit up.
Miss Granger, dazed from the fall, failed to notice anything untoward in her cushion though she would later recall that his breath as he swore had sent a veritable army of tingles down her spine. For the moment however she was overcome with embarrassment, she had easily placed the voice, after all the last time she had heard it that voice had also been engaged in language bordering on coarse. What a quandary, if the Earl were to recognise her she was doomed, her reputation shredded beyond all repair. Gathering her courage she went on the attack, after all it was he that had knocked the ladder awry.
"Well sir if you had been looking where you were going we would not be in this predicament," Miss Granger snapped, forcing her voice into a lower register, as she stood. The indignation on her face however melted away as she took in the fallen lord; his face awash with blood. "Are you hurt?" she finally asked as Lord Snape continued to stare at her.
As with the last time his nose had been struck such a prodigious blow Lord Snape attempted to make light of his injury; as with the last time he was also as successful at annunciation, that is to say, Miss Granger did not understand a word that the fallen Lord said.
"Nasus Reparo", she cast with a flourish when she finally took stock of the man's inability to speak. "Pray forgive," she continued in a conversational tone hoping to deflect the apparent anger that the peer of the realm was directing at her; her persona 'Mr Goodson' ranked a long way down from that of an Earl and whilst she believed it was his fault the accident had occurred, that would matter little if the man decided to be difficult.
"Mr Goodson, I presume?" Lord Snape said as he felt the swelling in his nose ease.
"Why yes," Miss Granger answered, her voice momentarily startled into its natural register. Lord Snape appeared not to notice. "How…?"
"Did I know?" Lord Snape finished her sentence for her. "Because I had just enquired of Mr Blotts who had purchased his last remaining copy of How the Wormwood turned and other tales of rare ingredient, By A Potion's Maker and he was kind enough to inform me that a Mr Goodson, currently browsing in the Potions and Alchemy section, was that person and that if I wished to enquire whether he was willing to part with said book that I should ask him myself.
"But I am forgetting my manners." Lord Snape continued as he stood and put his person to rights, "Snape, at your service." He said with a short bow before looking up and casting a judgemental glance over Miss Granger' person.
The introduction put Miss Granger into something of a quandary, if an Earl wanted to purchase the book then it behoved her to oblige; after all rank meant a great deal and the man before her had it all. But it was her book and she was not willing to give it up without a fight; Mr Goodson didn't really exist so there was little an irate peer could do to the man; still caution was advised.
"My Lord," she said as she bowed obsequiously in the manner of a minor pink attempting to worm his way into favour, "unfortunately I am only acting as an agent in the purchasing the book, it is Viscount Granger, whom I have the honour of serving, that is the actual purchaser. I believe he intends it as a present." That Miss Granger carried off the illusion of a servile young man was an unfortunate reflection on the men that had to date generally asked her father for her hand; the illusionary Mr Goodson was a distillation of all of their worst tendencies for sychophantism.
The effect of her comment however was not quite what she had expected. At the mention of her father Lord Snape's face assumed a calculating expression, one that she had seen often enough on her father to make her feel wary. If she had been privy to his thoughts she would have agreed that she had just cause to be wary and would have met with trepidation any suggestions the Lord of Potions might henceforth suggest.
His Lordship in the meantime was putting his remarkable faculties for inductive reasoning to full use. That Mr Goodson was something other than he seemed was apparent even to those of the meanest intelligence; pinks of the tone were not known to frequent the Potions and Alchemy isles of Flourish and Blotts; in fact most of them would be unable to spell Potions, let alone understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron, the delight in the ability to bottle fame, or the joy in stoppering death. The fact that the hips that had briefly nestled in his laps had been those of a member of the gentle sex, the skill in which the "naso reparo" had been cast, and the fact that Mr Goodson was the agent of Viscount Granger was leading the intrepid Earl to a conclusion that could ruin the girl if he were to voice his suspicions.
Still, the chance to subtly get to know Miss Granger outside of the strict tenants of interaction proscribed for the tonmorning calls of no more than a quarter hour, no more than two dances in any evening at a gathering and only one if that dance was the waltz, chaperoned conversations in the park, and the very occasional supperwere no conducive to actually getting to know another person. Thus, with a spirit of mischief, the Earl enquired whether Mr Goodson would perhaps mind adjourning to White's to discuss the possibilities where the book was concerned.
Miss Granger's quandary assumed mammoth proportions. The opportunity to join Lord Snape at White's was not the thing that Mr Goodson could refuse; any man if asked what price he would pay to be asked to join Lord Snape at White's would happily name his soul as a suitable exchange for the chance. Thus, Mr Goodson could not refuse, but for Miss Granger to cross the threshold of that bastion of masculinity would be tantamount to treason.
"That would be a pleasure My Lord," Miss Granger heard herself saying before her brain caught up with her heart; the chance to talk with the Lord of Potions, even in masquerade, was a dream come true and the idea of consequences was politely but firmly shoved into the far recesses of her mind.
"I take it you have a passing interest in Potions then, Sir?" Snape asked politely as he watched his companion bend to retrieve the pile of books which had precipitated their meeting. It was with difficulty that Lord Snape accomplished two of the hardest tasks he had thus far had to undertake in his privileged life; instinct instructed him to assist as no gentlemen ever let a lady pick up such a heavy load of books, and the fact that the lady, currently bent forward, was displaying to advantage a derrière well worth admiring. Encased in form fitting britches, it was doing things to his sense of equilibrium that were likely to result in very un-gentlemanly behaviour. He sternly told his instincts to go away; to aid this endeavor, Snape treated his libido to the image of 'Fudgy' the Minister Regent as he was last observed attempting to seduce his horse. The image was sufficient to allow the Earl to behave amicably when 'Mr Goodson' stood, with no hint of his 'interest' apparent.
"Yes Sir," Hermione answered depreciatingly, "a passing interest."
Lord Snape's prodigious mind kicked into a higher gear at the tone used to indicate a 'passing' interest; he was so startled at the train of thought that he was surprised into exclamation; "Merlin's wand, you're Harold T Goodson!"
TBC
JustJeanette