The Houseparty (5 page)

"How pleasant to see you again, Miss Traherne.
And looking lovelier than ever, I see.
You do these old eyes
good
, I swear you do. Don't she, Dolph?" Sir Maurice's voice was curiously high-pitched and girlish, and unwillingly Elizabeth remembered the deep, slow tones of his secretary.

"I've told Elizabeth so many times," Adolphus said jovially, coming forth and taking one of her hands possessively. She resisted the impulse to slap him with her fan across the knuckles. "Let me make you known to my uncle's friend. The
Contessa
Leonora
di Castello,
late of the Peninsula.
Contessa,
this is Elizabeth Traherne."

Elizabeth found herself looking down at the most beautiful woman she had seen in her entire life. Jet black hair in an upsweep framed a heart-shaped face of pure white skin, with a tiny nose, dark, dark eyes, and a rosebud mouth that pouted fetchingly at all the gentlemen within her radius. The extremely low-cut black
décolletage
proclaimed her a widow, and a dashing one at that. Elizabeth could almost hear Adolphus salivating beside her, and she greeted the
contessa
with real enthusiasm.

The
contessa
smiled sleepily up at her, professing herself delighted to meet another lovely young English lady. Those black eyes swept expressively toward Brenna's distant figure, and Elizabeth was amused to note the tiny pout on Brenna's lips. Sumner was as obviously fascinated by the
contessa's
lush charms as the other gentlemen, and
Brenna
hadn't expected to be eclipsed. If the Irish girl had ever been the slightest bit friendly, Elizabeth would have sympathized, but as it was she felt that
Brenna
was receiving her just deserts.

"And now where is Captain
Fraser?
This younger generation obviously fails to hold punctuality in the esteem we once did, eh, Maurice? Cook will be in despair," Lady Elfreda announced with a cheerful laugh. "You'll never keep him here at this rate, Dolph. He's threatened to leave you any time now."

"Pierre won't leave me until I'm ready to let him go," Adolphus said, unruffled, tearing his gaze away from the deep valley between the
contessa's
magnificent breasts. "And if I'm not mistaken, here is Captain
Fraser."

Here he was indeed, Elizabeth thought. That same grim, haughty figure entered the room, the dark blue eyes sweeping over the inhabitants like a commander reviewing the battlefield. From the speed with which that dark glance passed over her, she guessed that she rated somewhere between a broken cannon and a winded nag.

"Miss Traherne, allow me to introduce to you my
un
cle's
current adjutant, Captain Michael
Fraser,
late of the Ninth Battalion.
Fraser,
this is my cousin, Miss Elizabeth Traherne. Fraser's been with Uncle Maurice for the past six months, and lucky you are to have him, eh, Uncle?"

The jovial tone in
Adolphus's
voice was at a strange variance with his earlier warnings, and Elizabeth stole a perplexed glance up at his bland, puffy face before nodding coolly at the unfriendly Captain
Fraser.
But Fraser's dark eyes, seemingly so uninterested in her charms, hadn't missed that quizzical expression, she realized with dismay, and he was watching Adolphus with a trace of the same curiosity, a bitter little smile lingering around his hard mouth.

Elizabeth was surprised to note that Lady Elfreda and she shared the same low opinion of the chilly young man. "Well, since Captain
Fraser
has decided to rejoin us, perhaps we might go in to dinner before the goose is entirely ruined?" Again Lady Elfreda emitted that high-pitched laugh before she held out a commanding arm to her brother-in-law, an arm he dutifully accepted.

Goose, thought Elizabeth, her spirits brightening.
She was so fond of goose, particularly stuffed with grapes. Her spirits dropped again when she realized who her dinner partner would be.

It went without saying that Adolphus would accompany the ranking female guest, the vibrant
contessa,
into the dining hall. Sumner could never be relegated to escorting his sister, and the look on
Brenna
O'Shea's face was that of a cat that had just swallowed a bowl of cream as she clasped Sumner's stalwart arm possessively.
Fraser
stood staring at her, the distant planes of his face unreadable in the flickering candlelight. Once more irritation rose within Elizabeth's breast.

She was used to hearing herself described as a very pretty young woman, one of the dashing Trahernes. She was therefore quite unused to a complete lack of reaction to her most charming wiles. As she looked up for a long, silent moment into Michael Fraser's dark, handsome face,
pique
combined with the memory of the baron's warning, and her worry over the absent Jeremy finished the job. The smile left her lips and eyes abruptly.

"Elizabeth!" Lady Elfreda's stentorian bellow echoed through the hall, and Elizabeth jumped nervously.

"You needn't accept my arm,"
Fraser
said suddenly in that voice that had the uncanny knack of tickling Elizabeth's nerve endings. "I am not considered the most desirable dinner partner." The thought seemed to move him not one whit, and Elizabeth hardened herself to any latent sympathy.

"Well," she said brightly, taking his arm and following him out toward the immense dining hall, "if you
will
become a spy and a traitor, what would you expect? Though I would presume that being Sir Maurice's adjutant is punishment enough for any crime, no matter how treasonous." She waited calmly for the storm to erupt.

A strange sound emanated from the upright figure beside her, one that she might almost have suspected was a smothered laugh. But when she peeked up at him, the tanned face was as expressionless as before.

"I would suggest, Miss
Traherne, that
you not believe everything you hear. And that you certainly not repeat it."

"Oh, then you're not a spy?" She contrived to sound disappointed. "I was counting on you to liven up this rather dull weekend. I've never met a spy before." Except my own brother, she thought belatedly.

The muscles were iron hard beneath her hand, and for a moment Elizabeth regretted her rash tongue. "I have little doubt," he said after a long, tense moment, "that this weekend will be rather too lively. Even for a bored young social butterfly like yourself."

The censure was obvious in that deep
voice,
and the thought of her dutiful, active life as a whirl of social pleasures forced a chuckle from Elizabeth. "Then I will have to content myself to wait for the fireworks," she said cheerfully. "I am quite looking forward to it." She chuckled again as she caught his sour glance down at her.

Despite
the succulent goose stuffed with grapes, the grilled
lake trout
meunière,
the Stilton
soufflé,
boiled mutton, and twelve vegetables, Elizabeth did not enjoy her dinner. Indeed, it was not to be wondered at, with a silent, disapproving dinner partner such as Michael
Fraser
on one side, an overly charming brother on the other, and a stern Lady
Eifreda
opposite watching her every move like a hawk. As a result, Elizabeth spilled soup on her new silk dress, choked on the goose, and ran out of forks far too soon.

There was nowhere she could turn for help.
Adolphus's
attention was firmly fixed on the
contessa's
remarkable cleavage; Sumner, above noticing such things, was nevertheless entranced by that lady's monosyllabic wit; and
Brenna
was struggling wildly to catch whatever dregs of Sumner's wandering attention might be available, her sharp green eyes daring Elizabeth to interfere. Elizabeth was never one to refuse a challenge, but in this case she felt not only unequal to the task of diverting Adolphus and Sumner but completely unwilling. If only the large, dark figure beside her were a little
more lively
, she could find it in her heart to be content.

She was halfway through a strawberry tan when she
realized that all eyes were on her. Every plate was empty except hers, and every mouth was still as they patiently waited for her to finish her dessert. Swallowing in a suddenly dry throat, Elizabeth began to cough, choking into her damask napkin until her face turned scarlet and tears streamed from her eyes. Two smart thwacks between her vulnerable shoulder blades, much harder than was actually necessary, and she regained her composure.

"Thank you," she gasped to the silent captain, her brown eyes flashing her opinion of the force of his blows.

"Are you quite finished, Elizabeth?" Lady Elfreda questioned archly as she rose from her seat by Adolphus. "I am certain the gentlemen would appreciate some time to themselves. Adolphus, my pet, you must see to raising Sumner's stipend. It would seem that they scarcely have enough to eat, though one wouldn't think so, looking at dear Elizabeth. Come along." And with that lightly spoken denunciation, Lady Elfreda swept from the room, a smirking
Brenna
in her wake, while the
contessa,
aided to her feet by three helpful pairs of hands, languidly followed.

Elizabeth's face was pink with embarrassment and the aftermath of her choking fit. Tossing her head back, she leaned over the table, snatched up two apples, and sauntered after the ladies, biting into one of them with deliberate grace. As she closed the door behind her, she heard a laugh, one that she failed to recognize, and wondered if Michael
Fraser
was human after all.

"Come sit by me, Miss Traherne." The
contessa
patted the silken sofa in an inviting gesture. "I would like to get to know you better. Our gracious hostess has dragged the little Irish girl off somewhere, so we can be comfortable for a few moments until the dragon returns,
hein
?"

Without hesitation Elizabeth offered the dazzling
contessa
one of her pilfered apples and plopped herself down beside her. "She is a bit of a tartar, isn't she?" she questioned cheerfully. "I dread having to come here, but Sumner
will
insist, and since it is only a few times a year, I suppose I can bear it for his sake."

"But why does she dislike you so much?" the lady questioned with great interest. "Me she hates because I am foreign, but you are the perfect young English lady. I would think you would be quite unexceptionable."

"Little do you
know.
Lady Elfreda is terrified that Adolphus means to make me his bride. I can't very well set her mind at rest by telling her I'd rather marry a dead slug, so instead I have to put up with her insults." Elizabeth took another bite of her apple, enjoying both the taste and the satisfying crunch.

"I wouldn't think it would be such a bad thing to be married to Sir Adolphus. After all, he is very rich, very important, and not bad looking if you do not mind a large man. One could do a great deal worse," she mused, pleating her black chiffon skirts thoughtfully.

Elizabeth watched her out of narrowed eyes, fascinated. "I wish you all the luck in the world,
Contessa.
You may have him with my blessing. That is . . ." she stumbled, blushing.

The
contessa
let out an unaffected little trill of laughter. "You are obviously wondering what my relationship to Sir Maurice is but are much too polite to ask. You are wondering perhaps if I am his mistress, and what the old dragon would think if her brother-in-law's light-of-love married her son."

"No," said Elizabeth, but then her honesty took hold. "Well, actually, yes, I was wondering something of the sort. But I thought for once I might be discreet and watch my unruly tongue. Curiosity is one of my many flaws."

"Pooh. To be curious about other people is to be alive. I have no use for people who profess to have no interest in
gossip,
it is usually because they are only interested in themselves. I am afraid I cannot answer your unspoken question, however."

"But why not?"
She finished the apple and contemplated a suitable repository for the core.

The
contessa
smiled a secret smile. "Because, my dear, you are that handsome clergyman's sister and a Christian young lady, and I can tell from your eyes that you would much rather not have to condemn me for my sins. So I shall spare you a recitation."

"Recitation?"
Lady Elfreda strode back into the room, her olive skirts swirling behind her lanky figure. "Don't tell me you're some sort of
playactress
,
Contessa!
My brother-in-law would surely have more sense than to bring that sort beneath my roof."

"Your brother-in-law, Lady Elfreda, is fully conscious of what he owes the name of Wingert," the
contessa
said smoothly. "Miss Traherne and I were discussing poets we have known, were we not?"

Thus adjured, Elizabeth nodded solemnly. "Where is Brenna
^?
" she questioned, not from any real interest but to change a somewhat dangerous subject.