Harriet had taken his request for more information on Reverend Henderson’s presence to heart and asked Frances earlier if she knew why the man had been invited. But she seemed as puzzled by his presence as Garland was. Then again, Harriet didn’t think her friend knew half of the guests. Her sole focus seemed to be on the viscount.
“Perhaps I could pen him a message,” Frances suggested as she returned to her pacing only to spin to face Harriet. “Or rather, you should.”
“Me?” Harriet couldn’t imagine doing anything of the sort.
Frances gestured toward the desk where Harriet sat. She’d spent the last hour writing letters to her mother and Phoebe. “You’re far cleverer with words than I could ever hope to be.”
“Frances—”
“Please, Harriet. This is important. I truly need your help.”
“I think speaking to him would be a better choice.”
“It’s not as if I won’t help,” Frances said, ignoring Harriet’s suggestion.
“How would this work? Do you intend to ask a footman to hand him a message?” Harriet hoped that once she thought this through, she’d realize it wasn’t a good idea. “Or do you intend to find a secret location to leave messages for him?” She was pretty sure they’d read that in a book for one of the league meetings.
“A secret location would be perfect.” Frances’ brown eyes lit with excitement. “How romantic.”
“I was jesting.”
“I’m not. It’s perfect. This is exactly why I need your help. You always have the best ideas.”
“How are you going to ask him to look in the secret place, wherever it is?”
“It will be in the small library. We already know he visits it since you encountered him there earlier.”
“What if someone else finds your message?”
“Ourmessage,” Frances corrected her. “We won’t sign them, so no one will know who’s behind them.”
“Neither will he.” Harriet couldn’t believe Frances was so convinced this would work.
“That will be part of the fun. He’ll be intrigued by the thought of a secret admirer.” She sighed. “It’s perfect for my bold move.”
It didn’t seem very bold when Frances wasn’t the only one behind it. Still, all the league members had agreed to support one another in their endeavors. Harriet supposed that included directly assisting with it.
But she still didn’t like it. “He might think it’s someone other than you. Then what?”
Frances tapped a finger on her lip as she considered the question. “We’ll have to provide enough clues that he comes to the right conclusion.”
“Frances, this isn’t going to work. I have a bad feeling about it.” A sinking sensation that refused to be ignored. And she didn’t like the way Frances kept saying “we.”
“You worry too much, Harriet.” Frances rubbed her hands together in excitement. “Let us pen the first message. Then we’ll find a way to tell him to look in the library for it.”
Harriet rose from the chair and gestured to the desk. “You should write it.” The less she was involved, the better.
“Very well. Tell me what to say.” Frances settled at the desk and pulled a piece of paper closer.
“What do you want him to know?” Harriet asked reluctantly.
Her friend’s brow furrowed. After a long moment, she said, “That I admire him and would like to come to know him better.”
“Good.” Harriet nodded to encourage her.
“How can I say it better?”
Harriet glanced at the clock. “We don’t have much time.”