Anne Barbour by A Dangerous Charade Page A

knew she must deny herself even that consolation. He had already invaded her dreams; she must under no circumstances let him creep into her heart, for that way lay sure disaster.
    Sighing, she abandoned the cooling remains of her breakfast and made her way to the service area of the house, where she collected the little spaniel Honey for an invigorating walk in the park across from the Crescent. Honey was her usual enthusiastic self and, after clearing the area of any birds who might be threatening the peace and security of the neighborhood, she brought sticks for Alison to throw. An hour spent in this fashion was sufficient to restore Alison’s natural cheerfulness, and by the time she bundled the little dog back across the street, much of her equanimity had been restored.
    As she approached the house, she was surprised, given the earliness of the hour, to observe a fashionable traveling carriage pull up to Lady Edith’s door. When a young woman, casting furtive glances in all directions, was handed down from the vehicle, Alison’s eyes widened in astonishment, and she hurried to intercept the visitor.
    “Molly!” she cried breathlessly. “Molly! Molly Callander! Whatever are you doing here?”
     

 

Chapter 8
     
    “I really should not be here,” gasped Molly breathlessly, her dark curls fairly vibrating in distress. She accepted a cup of tea from Alison and sank back in her chair in the library. Her black eyes darted about apprehensively, as though she feared retribution might be immediately at hand. Alison observed her affectionately, her eyes soft with remembrance.
    She and Molly and Beth had been inseparable at school. Alison, the sensible one, was not always successful in restraining Molly, whose snapping black eyes viewed the world as one vast, amusing playground. Beth, golden-haired, pretty, and sweet as the smile that fell from her rosy lips, was the compliant one, always the first to acquiesce to Molly’s hare-brained escapades, and always the first to stand side by side with her friends when those schemes inevitably crashed in ruins.
    Alison sighed. In the end, it had been her own escapade that had brought ruin—to so many people. She shook herself, attending Molly’s next words. “I am supposed to be on my way to Bristol, where I am to join Callander at his mother’s house. The family is gathering, you know, for the christening of his sister’s latest. I set out from London yesterday and spent the night in Marlborough. I just had to stop and see you. I know we must not be seen together, but oh, Alison, I have dreadful news!”
    “Molly, calm down. Lady Edith is still abed, so we can be private. Tell me what has you in such a pother. Nothing can be all that terrible.”
    “Oh, but it is! Marchford is in Bath!”
    “Yes, I know,” answered Alison calmly. “He arrived several days ago and has spent most of his time here at his aunt’s house.”
    “But—”
    “Really, Molly,” Alison continued with an assurance she did not quite feel, “the earl and I have met on several occasions, and he has been all that is cordial.”
    Molly expelled a gulping sigh. “Oh, my love, I am so relieved to hear you say that. When I heard he had departed for Bath, I made sure he had discovered all! But,” she continued apprehensively, “if he has not come to ruin you, why is he here?”
    Alison chuckled. “To deliver his aunt from the clutches of a certified adventuress, of course. Me.”
    “What?” Molly gasped once more. “But I thought you said—”
    Alison launched into a somewhat expurgated version of her acquaintance with Lord Marchford, at the end of which Molly broke into a gurgle of laughter. “Oh, Alison, I might have known you would land on your feet. Certified adventuress, indeed. You, my little Vixen, are one of the most honorable persons I know, and I am glad the earl has the sense to see it.”
    Alison smiled at the sound of her girlhood nickname, but immediately, she flushed. “I