The Houseparty (7 page)

"Your clerical brother," he had said, his tone suggesting that he knew full well she had another, less conventionally employed sibling. If he knew about Jeremy and his covert activities, he was dangerous indeed. A sudden thrill of fear shot through Elizabeth's stomach, and she thrashed restlessly in the bed, punching the soft feather pillows, determined to keep her ears open for any more compromising noises from Captain
Fraser.
A moment later she was sound asleep.

"What were you doing for such a long time?" The
dul
cet
voice drifted to Michael's ears as he silently let himself back into his room. Whirling around, he saw the
contessa's
languid black-draped figure stretched out on the damask-covered bed. He shut the door noiselessly behind himself and moved into his room.

"What do you think I was doing?" he countered mildly. "And do you think you should be in here? What if somebody saw you?"

The
contessa's
ruby lips pouted prettily. "I am offended, my dear Michael. You of all people should know that I'm an old enough hand to be able to sneak in and out of bedrooms without anyone being the wiser. And there's hardly anyone in this rambling mausoleum worthy of my talents. I'm certain everyone else is sound asleep, snoring mightily."

"Including Sir Maurice?" he asked cynically.

"Oh, I made certain dear Maurice was dead to the world before I started on my nocturnal perambulations. He won't be bothering me any more tonight." She smiled lazily.

"You know, Leonora," Michael said casually as he stretched himself out on a chair quite a ways from the

comfortable
bed and its enticing occupant, "there are times you are so efficient you frighten me. What else have you accomplished in between drugging Sir Maurice insensate and sneaking into my bedroom?"

"Did I say I drugged Sir Maurice?" she purred. "There are other ways of making an elderly gentleman sleep the sleep of the dead." She patted the coverlet invitingly.

"I am sure there are." Michael ignored the gesture, and Leonora shrugged her pretty white shoulders philosophically.

"I did happen to overhear the most enlightening conversation," she offered slowly, and his attention was immediate. "I was completely amazed."

"Was it
with-
"

"It was between the young English lady and a certain
gendeman
of somewhat tarnished reputation behind a closed bedroom door. I swear
,
I was all agog when he offered to take the chit to bed.
Especially when he's refused so many other offers."

For a moment the expression in those dark blue eyes was dangerous. Then he smiled. "You will learn, Leonora, to mind your own business."

"I doubt it. At this point in my life my business
is
other people's secrets." She leaned back and sighed. "It would be so nice to retire from our questionable profession, Michael. I rather fancy our distinguished host. Don't you think I might make an excellent baroness?"

"Without question.
You might run into a bit of opposition from Lady Elfreda, however. I'd be more frightened of her than anyone you've met with in your varied career."

"I could handle her," Leonora said with a confident toss of her elegantly tousled coiffure. "However, that's not to say that I wouldn't prefer throwing in my lot with you, dear boy. I'd be willing to put up with a great deal of . . . shall we say uncertainty . . . for the sake of those beautiful blue eyes."

"I am more than flattered, Leonora. But you know as well as I that we simply wouldn't suit. You'd be off with someone a great deal richer and a great deal less demanding than I would be, leaving me and the children bereft."

"The children?" she questioned, and shuddered. "Perhaps you're right, dear boy. Ours is a love that will never be."

"You wasted your talents, Leonora. You should have been on the stage."

"Don't be absurd. My acting talent is put
to
much better use in my present field, and I make a very great deal more money than I ever would in Drury Lane. I have no regrets."

Michael shifted in the chair, his deep blue eyes narrowed in the dim light from the banked fire and his long, lean legs stretched out in front of him. "Apart from having no regrets, would it be too bold of me to inquire whether you have any pertinent information to impart? Or did you just make this foray to eavesdrop on Elizabeth Traherne?"

"No information as yet," she said pertly. "Which I thought you might like to know. Also, I came for the sake of those blue eyes. I am getting very tired of Sir Maurice."

"No doubt you are. You might remember that Adolphus
Wingert's
eyes are also blue. It shouldn't be too much longer now. Surely you can hold out a few more days."

"I suppose so," she replied with a sigh, rising with leisurely grace from the bed. "So Miss Traherne'
s
name is Elizabeth. I wonder that you should commit it to memory."

There was no expression on the tanned, handsome face. "Wonder away," he said affably.

"She's a nice girl.
Far too lively for this crowd and far too nice for a conscienceless rogue like you, Michael
Fraser."

"If you had put that pretty shell-pink ear a little closer to the door, you would have heard me trying to get rid of her," he said mildly.

"I heard enough. You forget I've known you for at least five years. You may be able to fool yourself, but you aren't about to fool me."

Michael rose to his full six feet two. "You know, Leonora, I think you're quite right. It is past time you retired. You're beginning to become prey to the most alarming fancies. I should warn you, however. It wouldn't do to underestimate friend Adolphus. I have the vague suspicion he's not the amiable buffoon he appears to be."

"You don't think he's involved?" she said sharply, suddenly all business.

"I haven't made up my mind yet. He could bear some watching, however. I get the impression there's a great deal more brain behind that somewhat asinine expression."

Leonora smiled
sweedy
. "And it would behoove you to take Miss Traherne a bit more seriously. Sumner Traherne may be a charming idiot, but that girl has a head on her shoulders."

Michael nodded. "I'll do my best to avoid her."

"That might be the wisest course. It would be extremely unfortunate if she were to stick that well-shaped nose of hers someplace where it didn't belong. Were she to come across the wrong sort of information, drastic steps would be taken, Michael."

"Leave the drastic steps to me, my dear
contessa."
His voice slid ironically around her title. "You have enough of your own to keep you busy." He took her slender, silk- clad arm in one hand and led her
gendy
, inexorably to the door.

She accepted her
congé
with good grace. Looking up at him out of thickly lashed eyes, she sighed soulfully. "I could wish this were all over with."

"It will be soon enough," he said with a noticeable lack of sympathy, giving her a gentle shove through the door. "In the meantime try to be a bit more circumspect. I don't have quite as much faith as you have in your powers of dissimulation."

"You're a sweet boy," she said impishly, reaching up and kissing him swiftly on one lean cheek.

The door closed behind her, and she moved swiftly down the hallway on silent feet. But despite Fraser's doubts, she was fully aware of the silent closing of the door at the end of the hall, and she uttered a silent curse beneath her breath. First thing tomorrow she must find out who was stationed in that distant bedroom and who would have seen her kissing Sir Maurice's handsome adjutant somewhere past midnight in the door of his bedroom. He was right; she was getting far too slipshod. Thank heavens it was almost over.

Elizabeth awoke as usual shortly after dawn. It took her a
moment or two to remember where she was in the first light, and she squinted around the lofty proportions of her bedchamber with a curious sense of excited anticipation. The source of that excitement escaped her memory as she climbed out of bed and dashed across the icy floor to the meager warmth of the banked fire. Then she looked at the wall and remembered the room beyond with its infuriating and mysterious occupant.

She dressed swiftly in a warm wool dress of dark blue with few enough buttons to allow her to manage on her own. Arranging her chestnut hair in attractive, loose coils, she went off in search of coffee, her
slippered
feet silent in the empty halls.

It was too early for breakfast to be set up, and so with an unerring instinct and her excellent sense of smell Elizabeth found her way to the busy basement kitchen, where fresh-brewed coffee and an assortment of cinnamon buns still warm from the oven awaited her. The temperamental French chef who was
Adolphus's
pride and joy was still sleeping the sleep of the just, and in his place was the warm, comfortable figure of Mrs. Kingpin, whose greatest joy was to feed a hungry young lady.

"It's a treat to see you again, Miss Elizabeth," she said fondly. "I was telling that
Moosewer
Peeyair
that we don't see enough of you here at Winfields."

"Don't be getting any ideas, Mrs. Kingpin. I have no intention of taking up residence," Elizabeth said hastily, reaching for a cinnamon bun.

The older woman's flushed face crinkled in disappointment. "Then there's to be no match between you and Sir Adolphus?"

"No match. Can you imagine what his mother would say?" she questioned with a trace of mischief.

"I can indeed. But we at Winfields have learned that it's Sir Adolphus who has the final say when it all comes down to brass tacks. Lady
Eifreda
can fuss and fume all she wants; Sir Adolphus gets his way."

"He has more than Lady
Eifreda
to contend with this time," Elizabeth replied, taking a deep drink of the hot, rich coffee. Sumner considered it unpatriotic not to drink tea, but Elizabeth had a passion for the strong brew that was Mrs. Kingpin's specialty. "I have no desire for the match, either. Why wouldn't
Brenna
do?"

Mrs. Kingpin shook her head. "He won't have any part of her. She's not a bad girl, either, though with that temper of hers and her headstrong ways she might have a bit of trouble. But she'll make someone a fine wife." Mrs. Kingpin's face was deliberately bland.

"Someone like my brother Sumner?"
Elizabeth questioned calmly.

"There has been some mention of that possibility," the cook admitted. "She's very good at managing a house, Miss Elizabeth, and she's got a nice touch with the staff. The vicar could do a lot worse."

"You don't have to convince me. It's Sumner who'll do the deciding. As far as I'm concerned, she has my blessing." She drained the thick kitchen mug and held it out for more. "Tell me, Mrs. Kingpin, do you know anything about Michael
Fraser?"

"Is that the young gentleman with Sir Maurice? This is the first time he's been here. I gather he's under a bit of a cloud, but he seems like a nice enough
gentleman
. Has a lovely smile, he does."

"A smile?"
Elizabeth echoed.

"And beautiful manners.
Always a kind word for the staff.
Why, no one minded his questions in the least, so courteous he was in his manner of asking."

"Questions?"
Elizabeth's ears pricked up. "What sort of questions?"

"Oh, nothing terribly exciting.
He wanted to know about the various entrances and exits to Winfields and whether there'd been any strangers about, and was there any spot a person could hide where he wouldn't be discovered. I presume it had to do with Sir Maurice. We were as helpful as we could be, Miss Elizabeth."