Three Schemes and a Scandal Read Free

continent, appointed directly by the king. Their father only mentioned this, oh, in every other breath.
    Their father’s other favorite topic was architecture; or, as James thought of it: math and rocks. Unfortunately that was not an appropriate sentiment to share in the speech honoring his father’s architectural accomplishments, due to be delivered at precisely four o’clock this afternoon. Most unfortunately, that was all he had prepared.
    The main use of this folly is to demonstrate how math and stones can work together to create a structure with no point whatsoever.
    The speech was doomed. He had tried to prepare by studying the extensive collection of literature on follies to be found in the Hastings library. James even read a few of his father’s articles in The Exhaustive Digest of Architecture in England . The problem was that James fell asleep every time he tried to read them. It was the dull subject matter, to be sure, the dim light in the library, the stifling air…
    For once—just once—it would be nice to do something for which his father could be proud of him. Oh, he had his talents: taming horses, fox hunting, starting fires, winning all manner of races or feats of physical strength, bringing women to the brink of such pleasure as they had never known …
    But these were not things for which his father would be proud of him.
    No, James must deliver a thoughtful, informed, poignant speech of this damned folly at four o’clock today or consider himself disowned.
In the Garden
    Charlotte had not factored in the weather. In particular, she had not considered the physics of wind, and a wide-brim, unsecured bonnet. Such were the failings of a Proper Lady’s education.
    A particularly robust gust launched Lucy’s bonnet, cresting on the wind, right up into a tree, where it became entangled in the branches just out of reach.
    “My bonnet!” Lucy shrieked.
    Charlotte swore softly under her breath, as one did in such situations. It was so vexing when plans went awry. But one had to adapt. She swiftly examined the options:
    Abandon the monstrosity.
    Charlotte might climb the tree to rescue it. Climbing trees was all the rage these days, thanks to daring escapades of The London Weekly ’s advice columnist, Dear Annabelle. Charlotte could do it—she had learned from James ages ago—but it was unlikely her delicate white dress would survive unscathed.
    They could go fetch a gallant gentleman for assistance or …
    “Lucy, why don’t you go to the folly and see if perhaps there is a rake we might use to retrieve the bonnet,” Charlotte suggested.
    She could not help but smirk at her own wit. Lucy would think the rake would refer to a garden implement, when actually Charlotte meant James. Tussled hair, deep blue eyes, rakish James.
    “Ugh, I wouldn’t want to go in there,” Lucy said, glancing warily at the folly and then longingly at her bonnet.
    “Why not?” Charlotte asked.
    “It’s probably dusty and dirty and full of old bones.” Lucy punctuated this with a delicate shudder.
    “It’s a folly, not a mausoleum. Furthermore, it’s new. Which is why we are here today. To celebrate a clean, new building,” Charlotte said.
    After standing aside and seriously considering the problem, Harriet’s expression brightened. “I know!” she exclaimed.
    Charlotte tilted her head, curious, and then her eyes widened with horror as Harriet’s plan became apparent.
    Harriet tossed her reticule— with the key to the folly —up at the stuck hat in an attempt to free it, however she only managed to prove Newton wrong. What went up did not necessarily come down.
    Charlotte groaned, her voice trailing off as she watched Lucy Featherbrains attempt to solve the problems of a hat and a reticule stuck in a tree.
    She started to hop in a delicate attempt to reach her stupid bonnet. When that was hopeless, she lifted her skirts and jumped, crouching down low before popping up high. Such efforts were to no