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“You should not have done that. It could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Kitty suppressed a laugh. “What? Would they have batted their fans at me? I would simply be a nosy girl who deserved to have her ill behavior reported to her mama. That is why you asked me to spy for you, after all, is it not? Because if you were found spying on them it would seem far worse.”
He remained silent for a long moment, then grudgingly said, “Very well. What did you learn?”
What could she say that might help her to learn what scandal Mr. Hurst suspected without giving away too much? She already had a good idea for a cartoon involving a trapped Mr. Darcy. If she could beat Mr. Hurst to whatever he planned as well, she would be the best caricaturist in England. “They spoke quite frankly about securing offers from various men. They are far more mercenary about it than is usual.”
Silence again. Finally, “That is all?”
“It was rather a long conversation. Perhaps if you tell me what you seek?”
Mr. Hurst gave the slightest shake of his head. “If all they spoke of was marriage, things are not as I imagined.”
He sounded sour. Whatever he hoped for, it must be quite the scandal. “They also mentioned you.”
He jerked as if stung. “Me? In what way?”
Interesting. “Well, they seemed to feel you know something about them and that it might be dangerous to attract attention while you are about.” Should she mention Lady Catherine? “But then Miss Edith called you ‘homme stupide’ and said you would be no trouble.”
“Homme stupide?” Excitement touched Mr. Hurst’s voice. “That is French?”
“I believe so. I have never studied it.”
“And they used the word ‘dangerous’ specifically?”
“I think so. I have tried to keep their words in my head for you.” In truth, as soon as she’d been alone, Kitty jotted down all she could recall of the conversation.
“I wonder from whom?”
“From whom what?” Kitty asked, confused.
“The danger.”
She would need to give him more, she could tell. She still had no idea what the Archers’ scandal might be, although it must have to do with that modiste, Madame Dentelle, and possibly with France.
Kitty’s breath caught. Could the Archers be spies for France?
She shook her head. That would be too fantastical and not something for a caricaturist to investigate. Spies were the province of the King’s men.
“They, ah, also mentioned Mr. Collins’ patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Mr. Hurst’s frame tensed. “Tell me everything you remember.”
“There truly is not much more. They want to trap Mr. Bingley into marriage, and while they discussed similar plans for Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy, they worried both are too close to Lady Catherine, but they never said why they want to avoid her.” Surely, he must tell her something useful now?
“I need Fletcher,” Mr. Hurst muttered.
“A Fletcher? For arrows?” Why was her world suddenly filled with references to archery?
Hurst chuckled. “I had not noticed that. No, I need to bring in a, ah, colleague of mine. Mr. Fletcher. I will summon him from London. In the meantime, please attempt to write down all you recall of the conversation you overheard, but do not go back to their lodgings. Spying on them in such a way is more dangerous than you know.”
He must call a colleague? Their shared occupation was a solitary one insofar as Kitty knew. Something was not right about Mr. Hurst’s story. “I do not understand. Do caricaturists work in pairs?”
“We, ah… Yes. We do. Mr. Fletcher does the artwork while I compose the words.”
He was definitely lying to her. It did not take two caricaturists to mock someone. Not even six someones. Could Mr. Hurst simply be an informant for Mr. Fletcher? Did that make her an informant of an informant? “Truly? Well, I will be very interested in seeing Mr. Fletcher’s work.”
“He can be quite secretive, but I will ask him.”
