Twice a Rake (43 page)

When the gentlemen joined the ladies in the salon following their after-supper port, a frisson of excitement hung in the air. In fact, most of the guests had been anticipating the evening of the scavenger hunt almost as much as the grand ball Aurora had planned for the final night of their stay.

After all, a scavenger hunt allowed for pairs to go off along dark paths only partially lit by lanterns and candles, in search of both hidden treasures and perhaps a few stolen moments alone.

Since Lord Norcutt and Rebecca had taken it upon themselves to destroy Aurora’s plans for a match between Rebecca and Lord Tucker Flynn, she had no choice but to redouble her efforts where Nia and Sir Jonas were concerned. Tonight would be a perfect opportunity.

Aurora clapped her hands to gain the crowd’s attention. “All right, if everyone is ready, the scavenger hunt is set to begin. Gentlemen, do please select a lady to be your partner for the night’s adventure.” As expected, Norcutt immediately bustled over to Rebecca’s side. In fact, the gentlemen almost all took up their expected partner in record-setting time—all save Sir Jonas.

Nia sat in her corner again, looking down at her hands where they rested in her lap with a blush coloring her cheeks to a furious red. Sir Jonas looked about, as though searching for a respite, for any other young lady not yet partnered. There were none to be found, of course.

Aurora raised an eyebrow at the blasted baronet, indicating Nia in the corner. Slowly, almost as though it pained him to do so, Sir Jonas shuffled across the floor to where Nia sat. He bowed low to her and murmured something Aurora could not make out, and finally she nodded her assent.

All was as it should be.

“Very well,” Aurora continued. “Now, gentlemen, each of you must come and fetch a slip of parchment. On each slip is a clue to your next clue. You must all find a series of ten clues, though they will all be different, save for the very last one. Whichever pair finds the final item and returns it here, to me, first shall be declared the winner.”

“And what shall be our prize?” called out Mr. Bentley.

Oh, goodness. How could she have forgotten a prize? What a hostess she was turning out to be, forgetting such things as that.

But then Quin stepped out from near the window, where he had been playing whist with some of the older crowd. “The winning pair shall select what is to be the first dance at Friday’s ball,” he declared.

Oh, yes. That would be lovely. And it seemed to suit the gathered hunters rather well, also, as they all mumbled to their counterparts.

Then the gentlemen came over to her to fetch their thrice-folded clues before returning to their partners for the hunt to begin. Still, once they were all set to go, no one made a move to begin.

“What are you waiting for?” Aurora asked. “The hunt is on!”

Without further ado, each of the partnerships opened their clues and huddled their heads together, interpreting what they were to look for and determining where they ought to begin their search.

Within moments the salon had cleared out except for Quin and his fellow card players. Aurora sat back on a nearby settee and sighed. The difficult part, for her at least, was over. Now she merely had to wait for the winners to arrive.

Hopefully the hunt would not go on so long that she could no longer keep her eyes open. That would be rather badly done on her part. But with the way she was feeling, she might very well fall asleep where she sat if she had to wait more than about thirty minutes. Oh, blast. Why had she made it so there were ten clues? She could have done five, and that would still have been more than enough to provide ample entertainment for the evening.

In the quiet, she watched Quin from across the room. He still seemed rather carefree and relaxed, much as he had that morning when they awoke. When had the change taken place? She couldn’t be certain. Sometime since he had told her of Mercy’s death and of his father.

It was good to see him this way. To see him actually enjoying himself. Indeed, just at that moment, he played a card and laughed out loud at the frustrated harrumph her father gave. There was something very different about Quin now from when they first married. His eyes no longer looked haunted. They seemed alive—still with a devilish gleam, to be sure.

A rush of footsteps scurried past in the hall outside the salon, complete with excited voices and a feminine giggle or two. Out the window, a single lantern seemed to be floating along in the air of its own accord, headed toward the orangery.

After a few more moments, Lord Merrick and Lady Emily reentered the salon. “I’m quite certain that very tapestry is in here, my lord, and not in the great hall like you thought,” Lady Emily said. They slipped past Aurora, moving purposefully along the length of the room almost to the windows. “See? This is the one.”

Merrick lifted the bottom corner to reveal a clue placed between it and the wall. He unfolded the parchment and read aloud: “In the room where once they came to pray, beneath Lord Rotheby your next clue shall lay.” He crinkled his nose and frowned. “I do not believe I wish to look beneath Rotheby, ma’am.”

Several barely muffled snickers sounded from the card tables, plus one very loud, “I beg your pardon,” from Rotheby himself.

“His portrait, silly. The abbey’s chapel was turned into a portrait gallery. Come on, let’s go find the clue.”

Just as rapidly as they had come, they were gone again.

For the next while, the only sounds other than the card game were those of deciphering clues in the hall.

“An armed babe?” from a masculine voice. “I have not seen a single child in this entire abbey. What could that be?”

“Perhaps it is the sculpture of Cupid? Shall we go off to check the kitchen garden, then?”

“Indeed.”

Then more silence, before: “Where else will we possibly find a ceiling that looks like a star?” This was from a lady. “We’ve already been to the dormitories and the portrait gallery. I don’t believe I’ve seen that anywhere else. We could spend hours trying to find it.”

“I know I’ve seen it elsewhere. But where was it? I can’t seem to recall at the moment.”

“Well, we’ve already checked this entire floor. Shall we go up or down?”

“Down, that’s it! The undercroft. Quinton keeps his office there.”

From the sounds of things, Aurora had done an excellent job with her clues. They made the couples stop to think. Not only that, but some were clearly going to be more familiar to the ladies of the group, and others would be more appropriate for the gentlemen. She couldn’t help but be rather proud of herself.

A few moments later, Rebecca and Lord Norcutt came bursting into the salon, laughing so hard there were tears in their eyes and they held their stomachs in a doubled-over position. Norcutt was dripping wet from head-to-toe.

“Have you won, then? Where is it?” Aurora asked, barely concealing her amazement that a dull dog like Norcutt could have her dearest friend in such stitches. That sort of laughter was usually reserved for Aurora, not Norcutt. She supposed, given that they were to marry, it was only appropriate.

“N-n-no,” Rebecca finally managed. “We have hardly won. For that matter, we haven’t even found our third clue.”

“After I fell into the pond, attempting to see if a clue hung from a tree branch, we decided that perhaps the two of us would be better off allowing the remainder of the water to remain in your pond, ma’am,” Norcutt added.

His comments also earned a few chuckles from those at the card tables.

“But perhaps,” Rebecca suggested, “Lady Quinton might appreciate it if you stopped dripping the contents of her pond all over the floor of her salon.”

It took every fiber of self-control Aurora possessed to refrain from saying, “Indeed,” but somehow she managed it. Quin ought to be proud of her for that. She was most decidedly proud of herself.

Maybe she was growing a bit—becoming less selfish.

“Oh, dear,” Norcutt said, looking down at the large and growing puddle at his feet. “I do apologize, Lady Quinton. I shall rush off to have my valet make me more presentable at once.”

She chuckled and nodded in his direction. Who would have ever thought she’d find Lord Norcutt amusing? Certainly not Aurora.

A sharp pain shot through her stomach, and she fought to keep her gasp as silent as possible. Once it receded, she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, Rebecca had gone over to watch the game of whist after Norcutt had quit the room. No one was paying her any mind.

Aurora remained where she was, carefully monitoring her breathing so that if another pain overcame her, she would not be discovered. Oh, dear good Lord,
please
let someone come to claim their prize soon. She doubted she could last much longer without expiring on the spot. It would be much easier to deal with whatever was happening if she could be alone in her chamber.

But who was she lying to?
With whatever was happening…
Aurora knew precisely what was going on inside her body. She had been right. She had the same problems as her mother.

She could only hope that the miscarriage would hurry and finish its course, that it would not be a long ordeal. The sooner it was over with, the sooner she could move on with her life—however her life would be.

The only thing she really had left to worry about was how to tell Quin. If only they hadn’t already informed Lord Rotheby of the pregnancy. He still expected Quin to produce an heir. Which really meant he expected
Aurora
to produce an heir. Something her body was making it abundantly clear it was not prepared to do.

Would Quin seek an annulment? Was that even possible? She still didn’t know, but she wouldn’t be able to stop him if it was lawful. Maybe it would be best, after all. Then she wouldn’t have to see him each day, to be reminded of all that had passed between them.

A commotion sounded from the hall, with footsteps coming their way. “We have it, my lady!” Was that the elder Miss Osbourne’s voice?

“Indeed, we do,” called out Mr. Bentley. Aurora had been right about which Miss Osbourne she had heard. “But I’m not certain what we’re expected to do with it.”

What on earth could he be talking about? Aurora stood to meet them as they entered, but then froze to her spot when she heard a bark. A
dog’s
bark.

“What is that?” she asked of no one in particular. But before anyone could respond, Miss Osbourne rounded the corner and turned into the salon with a puppy in her arms, squirming around and licking her all over, and generally doing as puppies do. Oh, good God in heaven.

“I’m afraid that is not what your clue sent you to find” she started to say, but Quin cut her off.

“Indeed, you are the winners, Mr. Bentley and Miss Osbourne. How very clever of you to solve that final clue.”

Quin had gone daft. “But the last clue told them to bring back a delphinium from the hermitage,” Aurora sputtered.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he said. “The final clue read ‘From whence you might go to find Cook or a cup, seek out a maid holding Lady Q’s pup’. It seems that they have brought precisely what the clue demanded.”

“I never wrote that clue. I don’t have a pup.”

But then Miss Osbourne came across the room and transferred the wriggling, excitable little angel into her arms, and it immediately started licking Aurora all over her face and arms and everywhere else it could find with its tongue. “It seems, my lady, that you do now.”

“Indeed, I suppose I do.” How delightful. But oh, dear good Lord. Why had Quin decided to do something nice for her? Why now, when she was on the verge of crushing his dreams?

Her puppy stayed with her as they waited for the rest of the hunters to return to the salon. Slowly, one grouping at a time, they all made their way back, once they realized that the pup had already been delivered.