How to Marry a Marquis (28 page)

She may have given James time to tend to his business, but she clearly had not done so with great grace and charity. Elizabeth could not count the number of times she'd caught Lady D

grumbling about his absence.

Lately, though, Lady Danbury had been too preoccupied with her upcoming masquerade ball to

defame James. It was to be the largest ball held at Danbury House in years, and the entire staff-plus the fifty extra servants brought in just for the event-was buzzing with activity. Elizabeth could barely make it from the sitting room to the library (which was only three doors down)

without tripping over someone or other, racing to Lady Danbury with questions about the

guest list, or the menu, or the Chinese lanterns, or the costumes, or...

Yes, costumes. Plural. Much to Elizabeth's shock, Lady Danbury had arranged for two

costumes. Queen Elizabeth for herself, and a shepherdess girl for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was not amused.

"I am not going to carry that crook around with me all night," she swore.

"Crook, ha. That's nothing," Lady D chortled. "Just wait until you see the sheep."

"Whaaaat?"

"I'm only kidding. Good heavens, girl, you must develop a better sense of humor."

Elizabeth spluttered a great deal of nonsense before finally managing to get out, "I beg your pardon!"

Lady D waved her hand dismissively. "I know, I know. Now you're going to tell me that anyone who has survived five years working for me must be in possession of an excellent sense of

humor."

"Something like that," Elizabeth muttered.

"Or perhaps that if you didn't have a stellar sense of humor you'd by now have been killed by the torture of serving as my companion."

Elizabeth blinked. "Lady Danbury, I think you might be developing a sense of humor yourself."

"Euf. At my age one has to have a sense of humor. It's the only way to make it through the day."

Elizabeth only smiled.

"Where's my cat?"

"I have no idea, Lady Danbury. I haven't seen him this morning."

Lady D twisted her head this way and that, speaking as she scanned the room for Malcolm.

"Still," she pontificated, "one would think I would receive at least a token more respect."

"I certainly don't know what you mean by such a comment."

Lady Danbury's expression was wry. "Between you and James, 1 shall never be allowed to grow too big for my britches."

Before Elizabeth could reply, Lady D turned back around and said, "At my age it's my right to

be too big for my britches."

"And what age would that be today?"

Lady D wagged her finger. "Don't be sly. You know very well how old I am."

"I do my best to keep track of it."

"Hmmph. Where's my cat?"

Since she had already replied to that question, Elizabeth instead asked, "When, ah, do you expect Mr. Siddons to return?"

Lady Danbury's eyes were far too perceptive when she asked, "My errant estate manager?'

"Yes."

"I don't know, drat the man. We're falling into complete ruin here."

Elizabeth glanced through the window at the endless pristine lawns of Danbury House. "You might be overstating slightly."

Lady D started to say something, but Elizabeth held up her hand and said, "And don't tell me that at your age it's your prerogative to exaggerate."

"Well, it is. Hmmph. Malcolm!"

Elizabeth's eyes flicked to the door. The king of Danbury House was padding into the sitting room, his fat paws moving silently across the carpet.

"There you are, sweetie," Lady Danbury cooed. "Come to Mama."

But Malcolm didn't even flick his cafe au lait tail at her. While Lady D watched in horror, her cat trotted straight to Elizabeth and hopped up on her lap.

"Good kitty," Elizabeth purred.

"What is going on here?" Lady D demanded.

"Malcolm and I have come to a rapprochement of sorts."

"But he hates you!"

"Why, Lady Danbury," Elizabeth said, pretending to be shocked. "All these years you have insisted that he's a perfectly friendly kitty."

"He's certainly a perfect kitty," Lady D muttered.

"Not to mention all the times you told me this was all in my head."

"I lied!"

Elizabeth slapped a hand against her cheek in mock disbelief. "No!"

"I want my cat back."

Elizabeth shrugged. Malcolm flipped over onto his back and stretched out with his paws over

his head.

"Miserable traitorous feline."

Elizabeth smiled down at the cat as she rubbed the fur under his chin. "Life is good, eh, Malcolm? Life is very, very good."

Malcolm purred in agreement, and Elizabeth knew it had to be true.

* * *

Back in London, James was frustrated as hell. He'd spent well over a week investigating

Agatha's life and had come up with nothing. He couldn't find a soul who even knew of anyone

with a grudge against his aunt. Oh, plenty of people had plenty to say about her acerbic wit and direct manner, but no one truly hated her.

Furthermore, there was nary a hint of a whisper of scandal surrounding her past.

As far as London was concerned, Agatha, Lady Danbury, had led an exemplary life.

Upstanding and true, she was lauded the prime example of proper English womanhood.

Truth be told, he couldn't remember ever pursuing an investigation that was quite so boring.

He'd known that it was unlikely he'd find anything substantive; after all, the

blackmailer had sought out his aunt in Surrey. But he'd unearthed no clues at

Danbury House, and London had seemed the logical next step. If Agatha's enemy

had learned of her secret past through the ton's brilliantly efficient gossip

mill, then it stood to reason that someone in London would know something.

James had been bitterly disappointed.

There was nothing to do now except return to Danbury House and hope that the

blackmailer had made another demand. This seemed unlikely, however; surely his

aunt would have notified him if she'd received another threatening note. She

knew where to reach him; he'd told her exactly where he was going and what he

hoped to accomplish.

Agatha had argued bitterly against his leaving. She had been convinced that her blackmailer

would be found in Surrey, skulking in the shadows of Danbury House.

By the time James exited through the front door, Agatha had been in fine form,

grumpy and sullen, more irritable than her cat.

James winced when he thought of poor Elizabeth, stuck in his aunt's surly company for the past week. But if anyone could draw Agatha out of her temper, he was convinced it was Elizabeth.

Three more days. He would devote no more time to his London investigation. Three

days and then he would return to Danbury House, announce his failure to his aunt and his

intentions to Elizabeth.

Three more days and he could begin his life anew.

* * *

By Friday afternoon, Danbury House was under siege. Elizabeth locked herself in the library for a full hour just to get away from the swarms of servants readying the mansion for that night's masquerade celebration. There was no escape from the frenzied activity, however; Lady Danbury had insisted that Elizabeth make her preparations at Danbury House. It was a sensible proposal, eliminating the need for Elizabeth to travel home and then return in full costume. But it also made it impossible for her to slip away for a few minutes of peace.

The time in the library didn't count. How could it count when no less than five servants banged on the door, requesting her opinion on the most inane of matters. Finally Elizabeth had to throw up her hands and yell, "Ask Lady Danbury!"

When the first of the carriages rolled down the drive, Elizabeth fled upstairs to the room Lady Danbury had assigned to her for the evening. The dreaded shepherdess costume hung in the

wardrobe, accompanying crook leaning against the wall.

Elizabeth flopped onto the bed. She had no desire to arrive early. She fully expected to spend most of the evening by herself. She didn't mind her own company, but the last thing she wanted was to be noticeably by herself. Arriving while the party was a true crush meant that she could blend into the crowd. By then, Lady Danbury's guests ought to be too involved hi their own

conversations to pay attention to her.

But the guests arrived in a flood rather than a trickle, and Elizabeth knew Lady Danbury well

enough to know that the countess would drag her downstairs by the hair if she put off her appearance much longer. So she donned the shepherdess costume, affixed the feathered mask

Lady D had also purchased for her, and stood in front of the mirror.

"I look ridiculous," she said to her reflection. "Utterly ridiculous." Her white dress was a mass of tucks and frills, adorned with more lace than any shepherdess could afford, and the bodice, while certainly not indecent, was cut lower than anything she'd ever worn before.

"As if any shepherdess could run through the fields wearing this," she muttered, tugging at the dress. Of course it was unlikely a shepherdess would be wearing a feathered mask, either, but that seemed neither here nor there compared to the expanse of bosom she was showing.

"Oh, I don't care," she declared. "No one will know who I am, anyway, and if anyone tries anything untoward, at least I have this blasted crook."

With that, Elizabeth grabbed the crook and jabbed it in the air like a sword.

Satisfactorily armed, she marched out of the room and down the hall. Before she

reached the stairs, however, a door swung open, and a woman dressed as a pumpkin

came dashing out-right into Elizabeth.

They both hit the carpet with a thud and a flurry of apologies. Elizabeth clambered to her feet, then looked back down at the pumpkin, who was still sitting on her behind.

"Do you need a hand up?" Elizabeth asked.

The pumpkin, who was holding her green mask in her hand, nodded. "Thank you. I'm a bit

ungainly these days, I'm afraid."

It took Elizabeth a couple of blinks, but then she realized what the pum-the lady! she had to stop thinking of her as a pumpkin-meant. "Oh, no!" Elizabeth said, dropping to her knees beside her.

"Are you all right? Is your ..." She motioned to the lady's middle, although it was difficult to tell what was the middle under the pumpkin costume.

"I'm fine," the lady assured her. "Only my pride is bruised, I assure you."

"Here, let me help you up." It was difficult to maneuver the costume, but eventually Elizabeth managed to get the lady to her feet.

"I am terribly sorry for crashing into you," the lady apologized. "It's just that I was running so late, and I know my husband is downstairs tapping his foot, and-"

"It was no trouble. I assure you," Elizabeth said. And then, because the lady was such a friendly pumpkin, she added, "I'm rather grateful to you, actually.

This might be the first time I haven't been the cause of such an accident. I'm terribly clumsy."

Elizabeth's new friend laughed. "Since we are so well-acquainted, please allow me to be terribly forward and introduce myself. I am Mrs. Blake Ravenscroft, but I would be most insulted if you called me anything but Caroline."

"I am Miss Elizabeth Hotchkiss, Lady Danbury's companion."

"Good gracious, really? I had heard she could be quite a dragon."

"She's really very sweet underneath. But I shouldn't like to get on her bad side."

Caroline nodded and patted her light brown hair. "Am I mussed?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No more mussed than one would expect of a pumpkin."

"Yes, I suppose pumpkins can be allowed greater latitude in neatness of coiffure."

Elizabeth laughed again, liking this woman immensely.

Caroline held out her arm. "Shall we go down?"

Elizabeth nodded, and they made their way toward the stairs.

"My stem is definitely off to you," Caroline said with a laugh, lifting her green mask in salute.

"My husband spent quite a bit of time here as a child, and he assures me that he is still terrified of Lady Danbury."

"Was your husband friends with her children?"

"Her nephew, actually. The Marquis of Riverdale. I hope to see him this evening, actually. He must be invited. Have you met him?"

"No. No, I haven't. But I heard a bit about him last week."

"Really?" Caroline began to step carefully down the stairs. "What is he up to? I haven't heard from him in over a month."

"I don't know, actually. Lady Danbury held a small garden party last week, and he sent a note asking one of the guests to meet him in London immediately."

"Oooh. How intriguing. And how very like James."

Elizabeth smiled at the mention of the name. She had her own James, and she couldn't wait to see him again.

Caroline stopped on a step and turned to Elizabeth with a very sisterly, and very nosy

expression. "What is that about?"

"What?"

"That smile. And don't say you weren't. I saw it."

"Oh." Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm. "It's nothing. I have a suitor whose name is also James."

"Really?" Caroline's aquamarine eyes held the gleam of a born matchmaker. "You must introduce us."

"He isn't here, I'm afraid. He is Lady Danbury's new estate manager, but he was recently called to London. Some sort of family emergency, I believe."

"That's a pity. I already feel that we are the truest of friends. I should have liked to have met him."

Elizabeth felt her eyes grow misty. "That was such a lovely thing to say."

"Do you think so? I'm so glad you don't think me too forward. I wasn't raised in society, and I have the most appalling habit of speaking without thinking first. It drives my husband mad."

"I'm sure he adores you."

Caroline's eyes glowed, and Elizabeth knew that hers had been a love match. "I'm

so late he's likely to bite my head off," Caroline admitted. "He can be such a worrier."