Lady In Waiting (18 page)

Why indeed?
Jenny wondered. "U
m
, you see . . . Oh! I peered into the cauldron while the extract was steam-

134

ing. Yes, that's it. I had no idea the blend was as powerful as it was."

"Oh, of course," the two ladies chimed in unison.

Jenny glanced at the japanned chair near the fire, and Lady Letitia motioned for her to take it. "I cannot see Lord Argyll like this," Jenny complained. "I just cannot."

Rising from the settee she and her sister shared, Lady Viola caned her way to Jenny. "But
,
my dear, 'tis too late to withdraw the invitation. Our guests will arrive in a few short hours."

Bobbing her head, Lady Letitia agreed. "Cook's nearly finished preparations for the meal. I am afraid the party must commence as planned, gel." .

"Perhaps there
is
something we can do." Lady Viola's eyes brightened. "The rout can be an Arabian Nights party and we can all wear veils." Her eyes were large as she nodded her head, hoping to gain consent.

"Don't be daft, Viola." Lady Letitia gestured to Jenny. "Look at her swollen eyes. Veils would not conceal them. Besides, how would we eat?"

"Well, I do not hear you coming up with any solutions," Lady Viola muttered in a decidedly hurt tone.

"Give me a moment, if you will." Lady Letitia lifted her full bottom from the settee and began to pace. "Darkness is our only option, the only cloak that will conceal her face."

"What? Beggin' your pardon, my lady, but how can anyone entertain in the dark?" Jenny asked, for as far she could see, this was not a possibility at all.

Lady Letitia grinned mischievously and laughed from deep within her belly. "Oh, there is a way. Have no doubt."

135

A shiver of foreboding raised the wispy hairs on Jenny's forearms.

Just what wild scheme did the old lady have in mind this time?

******************

Jenny, whose eyes had grown accustomed to the near total lack of light, watched helplessly as Mr. Edgar opened the door to Lord Argyll, who promptly stumbled in the darkness across the threshold.

"Spare a candle, me good man?" he asked, glancing into the drawing room where a lone candle burned.

Lady Letitia burst through the shadows and suddenly appeared behind him. "Welcome to our night of mystery and the
metaphysical
.
"

Visibly startled, Callu
m
whirled around. "Lady Letitia. Good eve. An evenin' of . . . what did ye call it?"

Lady Viola, dressed in ghostly white, suddenly appeared at his elbow, which caused him to start.

'The
metaphysical,
my lord." She took his arm then, and giving a quick glance at Jenny, who still lurked in the gloom of the corner, escorted his lordship to the drawing room.

Oh, she couldn't follow them. Heavens, with all the powder and rouge the ladies had coated her face with, she had to look positively ghastly, even in the dimness.

"Come on," Meredith whispered to her. "I am going to read Lord Argyll's fortune. I can't wait to see his face when I mention
you
as his future bride."

Jenny breathed an exasperated sigh. "Oh, yes. I am sure he will believe the notion came upon you as a result of contact with the infinite."

136

"I've been practicing my trance in the cheval glass for twenty minutes. Do you want to see? I roll my eyes back in my head,
t
hen I jus
t
. .."

Oh, my word.
When would this night be over?

When Jenny glanced into the drawing room, she could just make out Lady Letitia waving at her to join them. So Jenny did the only thing she could, and ignored her employer, pretending instead that she didn't see her.

"Oh, there you are, Lady Genevieve." Lady Letitia beckoned again. "Come, come in. You too, Meredith, for our own Lord Argyll has arrived."

When Jenny smiled, however, she was sure she felt the powder and cream mixture on her face crack, and a small wedge detach.
Oh, no.
Her face was falling off!

Callu
m
turned, but somehow in the thin light, she missed that he had bowed and she continued to walk forward.

"Oof!" she bellowed as his head raised up and punched her breasts skyward.

"I do beg yer fergiveness, Lady Genevieve. Most clumsy of me. Ye're not hurt are ye?" She felt his gloved hands on her arms, and she became aware of him looking her up and down.

"I am quite fine, my lord. No need to trouble yourself over me."

Just then, the brass doorknocker slammed against its rest, and the entire party turned to see who had arrived next.

Mr. Edgar collected the guest's wrap and directed her into the darkened drawing room.

"Good eve," came a familiar woman's voice. "I have come."

137

Jenny stood frozen to her spot. It was inconceivable. What were the Featherton ladies thinking?

It was the offensive widow from next door! Her evening of horror was now complete. Nothing else could possibly go wrong. There was nothing left, was there?

Then one of the scullery maids appeared at the door, candle in hand, and crooked her finger to Jenny.

Mr. Edgar, long legs taking abnormally lengthy strides, was bearing down on the girl fast. Even in the darkness it was clear the girl was worried, and no doubt would not have dared near the drawing room if something wasn't terribly wrong.

Jenny raced through the door and pulled the maid toward the passage to the back stairs before Edgar could reach her.

"Oh, Jenny, you're in it now." The maid's eyes were wide.

"What's wrong, Er
m
a?" Jenny asked quickly, before Mr. Edgar could nab the scullery maid and pull her below stairs.

"It's Mr. Bartleby, from the shop. He came in through the kitchen door and is waitin' for you below stairs."

Jenny froze.

"He said, if I didn't find you and bring you to him, he would come above stairs and hunt you down 'i
m
self."

"Surely he is having you on," Jenny rationalized.

A low nasal voice broke through the darkness behind her making her skin freeze.

"I assure you ...
Lady Eros,
I am not."

Chapter Nine

“L
ady Eros?"
A painful throbbing drummed beneath the thin skin of Jenny's temples.

Hearing Ba
r
tleby's words, Er
m
a spun around and dashed down the stairs, taking with her their only source of light. In the retreating candlelight, Jenny could see little more than a pale blur of the man's face before her. A twinge of fright raced across her scalp, making the roots of her hair prickle and raise up.

"
I
—
I
don't know to whom you are referring," she managed to add, but her words were thin and her voice shook with panic.

"I think you do," Bartleby replied evenly.

Mr. Edgar's ta
l
l lanky form cut abruptly between them and he spun to face Jenny, protectively shielding her from the rude shopkeeper. "My lady, you are wanted in the drawing room."

"
Thank you, Mr. Edgar. I shall come presently."

Mr. Edgar pivoted slightly and stared down at the shorter man for several long seconds. Jenny heard Bartleby nervously wet his lips as Edgar hovered over him before stepping away and heading back to the drawing room.

139

"Mr. Bartleby, as you can see, I am otherwise engaged." Jenny struggled against the childish urge to duck down the stairs and hide beneath her bed. But she couldn't leave. She had to get the shopkeeper out of the house before he drew more notice and ruined everything for her. "If you do not mind, I shall call at your shop on the morrow to discuss whatever matter you find so important."

Hoping against hope that Bartleby would simply leave, Jenny turned around to follow Edgar into the drawing room, when the shopkeeper's fingers wrapped around her upper arm and squeezed tight.

"Sir, you forget yourself!" she shrieked, a little more loudly than she should have, for her knight in shining armor was inside the passage at her side in an instant.

"Might I be of some assistance, Lady Genevieve?" Callu
m
asked, forcefully knocking the shopkeeper's arm from Jenny's. He moved his towering body within a breath of Bartleby, forcing the shopkeeper to look straight up to meet his piercing gaze.

Bartleby began to sputter, his threatening tone reduced to a mere mouse squeak. "
I
—
I
was jus
t
.. . well, her ladyship had admired a scarf at my establishment, but someone else acquired the item before she could purchase it. Just wanted to let her know that I'll receive another by week's end and shall keep it for her if she's still interested in purchasing it."

Jenny was impressed with Bartleby's alacrity with a
l
ie, but that did not excuse his brash behavior this night.

"
'
'Tis all right." She laid her hand on Callum
'
s coat sleeve and he twisted at the waist and turned his chest toward her. "I informed Mr. Bartleby that I shall make every effort to visit his shop on the morrow."

140

She stepped beside Callu
m
and wrapped her arm around the crook of his elbow as she spoke to Bartleby. "If that is all, Mr. Bartleby, would you please excuse me so I may return to the party?"

Mr. Bartleby bobbed a quick, nervous bow, then disappeared into the stairwell that led to the kitchen below.

Callum leaned his mouth near Jenny's ear as they started through the open door to the drawing room. "What was that all aboot?"

Jenny sighed, but turned a smile upon him. "Honestly, my lord, I do not know . . . exactly. But let us put him from our minds for we have a great surprise in store for you."

"Indeed we have." Meredith raced to the doorway and snatched Callum's hand. "Come with me, Argyll, and I shall predict your future. Oh, come now, do not hedge. My predictions of the future are startlingly accurate. You will see."

Even in the light of a single candle, no one in the room could have missed Meredith's pronounced wink in Jenny's direction.

******************

After supping on roasted venison, a culinary choice Jenny could have done without after their trip to Dyrham, the small party returned to the drawing room for a supposed rousing demonstration of the metaphysical. Or rather, they settled for Meredith and her bag of inane party tricks.

Still, Jenny was grateful, for without Meredith's willingness to perform, the chandeliers would be glaring down on her red and puffed face at this very minute.

141

While Meredith positioned the young widow into a japanned chair, preparing to attempt Dr. Mesmer's famed mind control, Callu
m
led Jenny to the settee, which was conveniently, for Jenny's hot and cracking face, located just out of the reach of candlelight.

In fact, they sat in absolute darkness.

Instead of causing Jenny worry, the idea that no one could see them was most titillating.

Like sun through a window, she could feel the blissful warmth of Callum's body beside her, could hear his slow breathing, and yet she could not see him. But neither could anyone else, a point on which he was obviously aware, for he took her hand in his, turned it over, and rubbed his thumb from her palm to the pads of her gloved fingertips.

Jenny shivered, and afterward felt a little embarrassed at her visceral reaction.

"Jenny," Callum whispered ever so softly.

The sound vibrated in her ear and tickled her, bringing a smile to her mouth.

"I am sorry aboot walking away from ye at the park. ''Tis no excuse, I ken, but I wasna ready to hear the truths ye spoke. Can ye fergive me?"

She turned her face toward his to reply and, not realizing he had moved his own closer, was surprised to feel her lips brush his firm lower lip.

She didn't know if he meant for their mouths to touch at all, or if he was urging her to lean in to truly kiss him. It really didn't matter. She
wanted
to experience his kiss again.

Needed to.

And in the ebony cloaked drawing room, she would.

She directed a wary glance across the room to where

142

the Featherton ladies sat in the candle's tight, circular glow.

Sure that they would not be seen, Jenny turned her body more fully toward Callu
m
and ran her hand up his broad chest, then over the rough whiskered skin along his jaw. Her left hand slid through his tousled hair, and without even a nod to propriety, she slid her hand behind his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.