The Houseparty (19 page)

Brenna's
eyes flew upward as
Fraser
appeared on the scene, and the look she cast Elizabeth was decidedly speculative. "I don't precisely remember. I was simply taking the air, when suddenly everything went blank.
I
found myself lying here with a beastly headache and not the vaguest idea how I got here. Last thing I remember, I was wandering by the east tower. I suppose it was a fainting spell, but I am not accustomed to them."

"You've been under a great deal of strain recently," Elizabeth offered tentatively, and was rewarded with a look of deep scorn from Brenna's sharp eyes.

"I am not the type to faint from a broken heart, Elizabeth," she observed tardy. "Your hand, Captain
Fraser,"
she requested, her voice softening into a beguiling little tone that set Elizabeth's teeth on edge.

Michael complied swiftly, a troubled expression on his face. "You say you were walking by the east tower, Miss O'Shea?"

"That's where I usually walk. I have little doubt this dizzy spell comes from not enough sleep and infrequent meals,"
Brenna
said, smiling wanly at the captain while she ignored the fuming Elizabeth. "I shall feel more the thing once I lie down on my bed for a bit."

"I'll accompany you back to the house,"
Fraser
offered swiftly, and Elizabeth controlled a strong desire to kick him again. She should have slapped his face when she had the chance instead of melting into his arms like a perfect
ninnyhammer
.

"There's no need, Captain. I prefer to go on my own. Besides, I've already interfered too much in your little assignation. Good morning, Elizabeth," she added, and moved off toward the house with only a trace less than her usual grace.

Once she was out of earshot, Elizabeth rounded on Michael. "She had a bump on her head the size of an egg," she said abruptly. "She may think she fainted, but I am convinced she was attacked."

"No doubt,"
Fraser
said in a distracted tone of voice, his eyes staring off in the distance, directly at the east tower.

Elizabeth's irritation flared. "And you probably were the one who did it," she snapped, all caution thrown to the wind. "You probably found her prowling around the east tower and clubbed her on the head so she wouldn't discover exactly what you're up to, and then you sneak up on me all smiles and flattery, thinking I would fall for it."

This caught his attention. "And did you?" he inquired sweetly. "Fall for my evil stratagems, that is?"

Excuse enough, Elizabeth decided, and slapped him across the face. "Not for a moment."

He didn't even blink, and the faint smile never left his face. "How very devious you are, Lizzie. You had me quite persuaded otherwise."

"Damn you,
Fraser!"

"
Tsk
,
tsk
. Such language from a vicar's sister," he chided.

"I'm a soldier's sister also," she shot back.

"You don't mean to try to convince me that Jeremy taught you to swear like that?" he inquired incredulously. "I wouldn't have thought it of him."

There was a sudden, deathly silence in the garden, broken only by the early morning cry of the larks. "You know Jeremy?" she asked, and her voice was quiet.

A frown had creased Fraser's brow, and to Elizabeth's observant eyes he seemed irritated with himself. "I've met
him," he said briefly. "But that's not what we were discussing."

"That's what I was discussing," she shot back. "That is what I wish to discuss. Where did you meet Jeremy? Have you seen him recently? Oh, Michael, is he all right?"

"As far as
Ï
know, your brother is enjoying his customary good health,"
Fraser
said stiffly. "I'm far more interested in what caused that lump on Miss O'Shea's head than whatever is occupying your ramshackle brother."

"Ramshackle?" Elizabeth fumed.

"With a definite resemblance to his ramshackle sister,"
Fraser
added deftly. It crossed Elizabeth's mind that he was being deliberately provoking, but she didn't care. She drew back to slap his mocking face again, but she found her wrist caught in a numbing grip.

"You may slap me once, dearest Lizzie, but twice I will not allow. I am very likely to hit back at that point."

"You wouldn't dare," she breathed, outraged.

"Try me, Lizzie," he drawled.

Wrenching her arm free, she gave him her fiercest glare, a look of extreme loathing that left him more amused than moved.

"That's right, my love. I would suggest you avoid me at all costs and hate me to your heart's content. I am a very dangerous fellow, you know. And I'm afraid
I
don't have time for you right now, much as I wish
Î
did." His eyes lingered suggestively on Elizabeth's mouth.

There was no way she could control the blush that rose in her face at the deliberate reminder of how completely she'd surrendered to his kiss, and there was no way she could control the fury that raced through her.

"Even General Wingert is more of a gentleman than you," she shot back.

"Very
likeiy
," he agreed amiably. "I suggest you seek him out."

"Perhaps I shall," Elizabeth said, suddenly struck. "He may be more forthcoming than you are."

"I would sincerely doubt it, Lizzie. But by ail means try," he offered. "I only trust you won't regret it. The general's reputation with the fair sex is unsavory, to say the least. And this time I won't be there to rescue you."

She struggled for a parting retort, but her mind remained a stubborn blank. She knew far too well that he was right, and she also knew that what she really wanted was to throw herself back into his arms—curse the dratted man! Without another word she flounced out of the garden, leaving him to his nefarious activities. Perhaps Rupert could stop him.

When
Elizabeth entered the breakfast salon two hours
later and saw the solitary bewigged figure of Lady Elfreda at the head of the table, she started to beat a hasty retreat. She had spent an unpleasant two hours fuming in her room, and Lady Elfreda was the last person Elizabeth felt like indulging in
a tête-à-tête.
Unfortunately, her hostess's eyes were eagle-sharp, and she had been lying in wait for her prey that morning.

"Where do you think you're going, Elizabeth?" she demanded.

"I . . .
I forgot my reticule," Elizabeth replied, struggling lamely for an excuse.

"You won't need it at breakfast; I have no intention of charging you for the meal. Serve yourself and sit down beside me. We haven't had a chance for a comfortable
coze
this weekend." This invitation was accompanied by a hideous smile showing all of Lady Elfreda's overlarge teeth, a crocodile smile if ever there was one, but Elizabeth was nothing if not brave.

Filling her plate sparingly, she took her seat with a cautious air. Lady Elfreda was not to be trusted. "Where are the others?" she inquired politely, applying herself to her morning coffee.

"They've all scattered to the four winds. Except for
Brenna,
who is behaving like an invalid, complaining of a headache caused, no doubt, by a broken heart. Why in the world she should set her heart on your beautiful dim- witted brother is beyond my comprehension."

It was beyond Elizabeth too, but illogically she jumped to Sumner's defense. "My brother is very kind, very good, and very, very handsome.
Brenna
could count herself lucky to marry him."

"Your brother is a beautiful bore," her ladyship said frankly. "Not that I object. I think that all ministers should be beautiful and boring. It suits '
em
. But they're not my idea of entertaining company. You, for all your faults, ain't boring," she conceded handsomely.

"Thank you very much," Elizabeth replied in cool tones. "And I must say I hardly find your ladyship boring either."

Lady Elfreda's heavy jaw snapped shut, and she eyed her impertinent guest with an icy glare. "I did not arrange this so that we should argue, Elizabeth," she said in heavy tones.

"No? Then why did you arrange this?"

"To warn you.
I feel it my duty, as the only sensible female of your acquaintance, and in some distant manner a connection, to warn you about Captain
Fraser."

Elizabeth's hackles, already alert, rose. Taking a deliberately casual sip out of her hot, sweet coffee, she smiled encouragingly at her hostess. "What about Captain
Fraser?"

"An alliance between your family and a man of Fraser's stamp would be very unfortunate, dear Elizabeth. Not that I think it would ever come to that point. But I've seen the way your eyes follow him around the room when you think he isn't looking. It really isn't the thing, Elizabeth, to throw
yourself
so blatantly at a man."

"I have not!" she said hotly. "As a matter of fact, I find him completely insupportable. He is rude, overbearing, arrogant, and completely odious."

"And you stare at him like a perfect
moonling
when you think no one is looking," Lady Elfreda snapped. "It's no wonder the man responds.
Apart from the fact that he's scarcely been allowed near a properly bred young lady in the last several years.
And to top it all off, you bear a striking resemblance to that unhappy girl he married."

"Married?" Elizabeth echoed in faint tones.

"Marianne Kimball. Dolph knew her rather well, I believe. She died in childbirth while he was off in the Peninsula. I believe it was quite a blow to poor
Fraser."

"I hadn't realized he was a widower," Elizabeth said slowly, her mind sifting through this latest and unwelcome information.

"I'm surprised Dolph didn't tell you. Or that you strongly resemble the poor girl."

"Perhaps I should ask him.'*

"Don't do that!" her ladyship ordered sternly. "It would upset him too much. He knew her quite well and felt she was treated rather badly. I'm afraid he holds it against
Fraser."

Elizabeth looked at the plate in front of her and felt quite ill. The eggs tasted like dust in her mouth, and the coffee was cold.

"I thought you should be warned, Elizabeth," Lady Elfreda continued in a kindly tone. "I would consider myself derelict in my duty to allow you to go on imagining anything might come of this infatuation."

"There is no infatuation!" Elizabeth said sharply.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. In the meantime, I wonder if you might do me a favor. Captain
Fraser
has gone for a brief ride before morning services."

"Morning services?"
Elizabeth echoed uneasily.

"Your brother has consented to give us an informal talk on the scriptures this morning."

"Oh, God."

"Exactly."
The old lady nodded her wig benevolently. "But I'm afraid Captain
Fraser
ran off with my book of sermons. I had promised to show them to your brother before the services this morning. I do so hate to let him down.
Would
you be a dear and go fetch it? It should be right by his bed; he told me earlier that he read them before he retired. Not that I believe a miscreant like him. But I'm sure the book will be in plain sight, and you wouldn't run into anyone but the maid."

It was on the tip of Elizabeth's tongue to refuse outright, suggest that
Brenna
could do her ladyship's errands, or suggest that her ladyship go jump in the sea. But her common sense took over as she realized she would at last have a chance to look about Fraser's room for any sign of espionage, deceit, whatever. With proof, she could go to Rupert, lay the evidence before him, and beg for mercy. If
Fraser
could simply be made harmless, Jeremy and his like would be safe. And
Fraser
could escape to some place where he could do no damage.

"Certainly," she said affably, pushing away her plate and rising. "A book of sermons, did you say?"

"There shouldn't be more than one by the good captain's bed. Take your time, my dear. We'll all meet in the chapel in another hour."

The hall was deserted as Elizabeth made her way back toward her bedroom. The hidden paper could as easily be in
Fraser's
room as anywhere else. While he was out riding, she could search through his possessions with no one the wiser.

Fraser's bedroom was slightly smaller than Elizabeth's, with a massive oak bed that was a twin to Elizabeth's, a less attractive view of the countryside, and an anteroom leading off to one side. The door was open, and for a moment Elizabeth thought she heard a noise within.