“That was the second gong that just went, ma’am,” Mildred said, opening the door to the hallway as if she hoped to hear an echo confirming her conclusion. “Ah, and here comes Mr. Borders down the hallway to fetch you.”
“You said fetch,” Doreen pointed out, handing Jessica a small reticule fashioned of the same paisley, its slim chain silver, its clasp fashioned of pink pearls. Was there no detail too small for the man? When he made love to a woman, was he equally as interested in detail? “See? Other people do so say it, not just me.”
“Just not earls, you fool,” Mildred muttered, pulling Doreen back and signaling they were to drop into curtsies. They were both eager learners, and with the gaming room now a thing of the past, they were bound and determined to once again make themselves indispensable to their mistress. “We’ll wait up, ma’am, to help you into bed.”
Jessica felt hot color run into her cheeks, probably clashing badly with both her hair and her gown. The note on her pillow this morning, when combined with the gown and the necklace, had her hopes rising that Gideon would not be going out after dinner. Not tonight. “Oh. Oh, I don’t think you need to…That is, I may be quite late. I’ll manage.”
“But—” Doreen began.
“She says she’ll manage,” Mildred cut in quickly. “Honestly, Doreen, you’re thick as a plank sometimes.” The hostess-cum-lady’s maid curtsied yet again. “I’ll just go lay out your night rail and dressing gown and turn down the bed. Good night, ma’am.”
“Good night, Mildred. Doreen. And thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without either one of you.”
Still keeping her head slightly averted, Jessica escaped to the hallway and called out to Richard, who seemed to be pacing near the head of the staircase. Gideon had seen to it Richard be outfitted with new clothes, and she had been thrilled to see the older man’s pleasure in his wardrobe. He looked distinguished now in some unexplainable way, and actually rather comfortable, as if more used to fine things and lavish surroundings than she would have imagined. Someday perhaps he’d tell her who he had been before he’d taken to gaming. To date, he’d told her he was a bastard prince, a defrocked priest, a pirate and a schoolteacher, which was as good as to say she should not ask him again or else be prepared for another tall tale.
He turned about and smiled before he bowed in her direction, his knees creaking audibly. “And who might you be, lovely lady?” he asked. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Jessica held out her arms and turned about in a full circle. “I’m magnificent, aren’t I? And all accomplished without sparkles. Adam will be dumbfounded.”
“Your brother hasn’t the brains to be dumbfounded,” Richard said, holding out his arm to her. “He’d rather believe he knows everything worth knowing. You’re looking happy as well as beautiful this evening, Jess. Is that because of the new gown, or the fact that his lordship awaits you downstairs?”
“He awaits me downstairs each evening,” Jessica pointed out as she lifted her hem slightly, to help her navigate the marble steps.
“Not with a pink rosebud pinned to his lapel. I wondered about that earlier, when I went down. I only came back up to fetch my handkerchief.”
“Uncles don’t say fetch, Richard. I have it on good authority.” Her heart then heard what Richard had said and decided to skip a beat. “A pink rosebud?”
“Yes, it shocked me, as well. He dresses fine as nine pence, but no geegaws for the man, not in the usual run of things. So I didn’t comment on it. And, we have a visitor.”
Jessica didn’t take that bit of information in immediately, either. She was too busy wondering how Gideon would have managed to produce a blue rose, if she had chosen the blue. Knowing the man, he’d probably have just dipped its stem in an inkpot until he’d achieved the proper shade. “Oh?” she said belatedly. “Who is he?”
“Not he, but she. And it’s Lady Katherine, his lordship’s sister, come into town for new boots or some such thing, and if I were thirty years younger, I’d be wearing rosebuds myself. Oops, nearly tripped there, didn’t you? You have to be careful where you step, Jess.”
He was trying to tell her something but without really telling her. “Yes, I suppose I do. In every way.”
They reached the first-floor foyer. Richard turned toward the closed doors to the drawing room, but Jessica held him back. “What is she doing here?” she whispered fiercely.
“I told you, something about new boots. Now come along.”
Jessica looked closely into her friend’s face. Saw the slight twitch of his left eyelid. “What’s going on, Richard? What’s really going on?”
“Now why would you be asking that?”
“I’m asking that because you never forget your handkerchief. I’m asking because Gideon doesn’t wear posies. I’m asking because nobody told me Lady Katherine was expected. I’m asking because the doors to the drawing room are closed. And I’m asking most of all because your eyelid is twitching.”
“It is not,” he said, and it twitched again, just as a small bead of perspiration made its way down his temple.
“It does when you’re lying. You may bluff with impunity at cards, but never with me. Something is awaiting me on the other side of those doors, and that something is more than Gideon’s sister.”
“I told him to send somebody else upstairs to get you,” Richard said, sighing, making use of his handkerchief to wipe at his brow. “Adam, for one. I still don’t think he realizes what’s going on, he’s so busy making a total ass of himself, running around tables and chairs in those bloody stupid red heels of his, trying to avoid the dogs. I have to ask the cook for a marrowbone for Brutus. He won’t let the fool alone. Just come along, Jess, won’t you? You knew this was inevitable, in any case.”
“I knew what was—”
The double doors were flung open, and Brutus, closely followed by Cleo, was escorted into the foyer by Thorndyke, who was holding some sort of raw meat chop aloft with two fingers, his expression one of extreme distaste. Jessica quickly bit her bottom lip until the butler and his tongue-lolling admirers had disappeared behind the baize door at the end of the hallway, and then released her delight in peals of laughter.
“Oh, good, she’s not a stickler. We can’t have one of those.”
The voice was female, and it had come from inside the drawing room.
“Lady Katherine?” Jessica whispered the question, as they were still near the stairs and could not see into the drawing room.
Richard nodded. “Beautiful. One might say exotic. But without a single air or touch of starch about her. Had me shake her hand rather than bow over it. And she’s wearing riding clothes, says there’s time enough later to change if she has a mind to, which she doesn’t.”
Jessica considered this for a moment. “But you think I’ll like her.”
It was Richard’s turn to consider. “It’s like with the earl, Jess. I don’t think you have a choice.”
“And since they heard me laugh, no choice about going in there,” Jessica agreed. “Richard, do you sometimes think it was easier when it was just the two of us?”
“No,” he said, grinning. “I like the gravy boat I’ve somehow been dropped into too much to say that. And so do you.”
Jessica was still smiling as she entered the drawing room, still hanging onto Richard’s arm, that smile only fading when she began taking inventory of its other occupants.
There was Adam, dressed this evening in shamrockgreen jacket and fawn pantaloons, bent over one of the many couches, snapping at the seat with his handkerchief,