room.”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” Emily asked.
“How very kind of you. Does the staff know we—”
Her face heated. It was one thing for Jocelyn to know she
and Anthony were lovers, but his servants?
He raised her chin with two fingers. “I told Timmons you
were my friend,” he said simply. “And that with your sudden good fortune, you
needed someone to help ensure no one unscrupulous would take advantage of your
loving nature and generous heart. He will have told the staff the same so there
will be no questions asked.”
“You make me sound like saint,” she accused.
“And you’re certainly not that,” he teased. “So, do you want
the house or not?”
“Yes.” She adopted a lofty tone. “You may tell Davis to make
all the necessary arrangements.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m glad my lady is pleased. Now,
let’s see about getting you to that appointment with your modiste. After all,
there’s a dinner tonight at Jocelyn’s and a ball tomorrow night, and you can’t
keep wearing her gowns. I’ll have Timmons make arrangements for your bedroom
furniture to be delivered.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “We might need to
try out that new bed of yours.”
Chapter Ten
“‘At long last, I have found you, Lysander McHeath.’ The
apparition floated above the man cowering in the corner. Emitting an exultant
cackle, it extended a ghostly arm, blood dripping from its fingers. ‘At long
last, the Healy family will have their revenge.’”
“Oh do please stop, Margaret!” Miss Felicity Sykes emitted a
hair-raising shriek. “My heart is having such palpitations, I fear I shall
faint!”
Emily quickly covered her laugh as Miss Margaret Stanhope
put her book in her lap and peered at the girl. “Don’t be frightened,
Felicity,” she said gently. “It’s only a story.” She looked at Emily who sat
beside her on the loveseat. “Were you frightened, Mrs. Martin?”
“Terribly,” Emily fibbed. “You read with great feeling. So
dramatic!”
Jocelyn’s other female guests nodded.
“I’m sorry.” Miss Sykes’ voice trembled. “I could almost see
that ghost coming down the passage after poor Lysander McHeath.”
“If it frightens you, then I won’t read any more,” Miss
Stanhope promised, putting the book on a nearby table. “I thought since you
always seem to know before anyone which books are currently popular, you would
have surely read Miss Alexander’s The Curse of the McHeaths.”
Kind and knows how to give praise. Emily made a
mental note to add these items to the growing list of Miss Stanford’s qualities
for her report to Anthony. Except for her youth—she was only nineteen—she just
might well do for him.
“Perhaps Felicity can play the gentlemen in from their
port,” Jocelyn suggested. “It’s high time they joined us.”
“What a good idea, Lady Rolfe,” Miss Stanhope said.
“Felicity, why don’t you give us that Irish tune about sweethearts you played
the other night?”
A relieved Miss Sykes nodded and went to the piano, sat and
began to play. The lively melody did the trick because the door soon opened and
the men entered. They chose various places around the room to converse with the
ladies. Anthony went to speak with Jocelyn and Emily gave her attention to Miss
Stanhope.
“You were very kind to Miss Sykes,” she began. “Have you
known her long?”
“Since we were little girls,” Miss Stanhope said. “I’d quite
forgotten how timid she is unless she’s seated at the keyboard. I wish I played
as well.”
“I’m sure your playing is quite fine,” Emily said. “Do you
really enjoy gothic novels?”
“Yes, I do,” the younger woman admitted. “It’s rather fun
being scared, always wondering when the next thing will happen to the poor,
unsuspecting characters. And the authors are often so creative. Have you read
Mrs. Millicent Hawthorne’s newest novel, The Mystery of Blackwood Hall ?”
“No,”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” Emily asked.
“How very kind of you. Does the staff know we—”
Her face heated. It was one thing for Jocelyn to know she
and Anthony were lovers, but his servants?
He raised her chin with two fingers. “I told Timmons you
were my friend,” he said simply. “And that with your sudden good fortune, you
needed someone to help ensure no one unscrupulous would take advantage of your
loving nature and generous heart. He will have told the staff the same so there
will be no questions asked.”
“You make me sound like saint,” she accused.
“And you’re certainly not that,” he teased. “So, do you want
the house or not?”
“Yes.” She adopted a lofty tone. “You may tell Davis to make
all the necessary arrangements.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m glad my lady is pleased. Now,
let’s see about getting you to that appointment with your modiste. After all,
there’s a dinner tonight at Jocelyn’s and a ball tomorrow night, and you can’t
keep wearing her gowns. I’ll have Timmons make arrangements for your bedroom
furniture to be delivered.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “We might need to
try out that new bed of yours.”
Chapter Ten
“‘At long last, I have found you, Lysander McHeath.’ The
apparition floated above the man cowering in the corner. Emitting an exultant
cackle, it extended a ghostly arm, blood dripping from its fingers. ‘At long
last, the Healy family will have their revenge.’”
“Oh do please stop, Margaret!” Miss Felicity Sykes emitted a
hair-raising shriek. “My heart is having such palpitations, I fear I shall
faint!”
Emily quickly covered her laugh as Miss Margaret Stanhope
put her book in her lap and peered at the girl. “Don’t be frightened,
Felicity,” she said gently. “It’s only a story.” She looked at Emily who sat
beside her on the loveseat. “Were you frightened, Mrs. Martin?”
“Terribly,” Emily fibbed. “You read with great feeling. So
dramatic!”
Jocelyn’s other female guests nodded.
“I’m sorry.” Miss Sykes’ voice trembled. “I could almost see
that ghost coming down the passage after poor Lysander McHeath.”
“If it frightens you, then I won’t read any more,” Miss
Stanhope promised, putting the book on a nearby table. “I thought since you
always seem to know before anyone which books are currently popular, you would
have surely read Miss Alexander’s The Curse of the McHeaths.”
Kind and knows how to give praise. Emily made a
mental note to add these items to the growing list of Miss Stanford’s qualities
for her report to Anthony. Except for her youth—she was only nineteen—she just
might well do for him.
“Perhaps Felicity can play the gentlemen in from their
port,” Jocelyn suggested. “It’s high time they joined us.”
“What a good idea, Lady Rolfe,” Miss Stanhope said.
“Felicity, why don’t you give us that Irish tune about sweethearts you played
the other night?”
A relieved Miss Sykes nodded and went to the piano, sat and
began to play. The lively melody did the trick because the door soon opened and
the men entered. They chose various places around the room to converse with the
ladies. Anthony went to speak with Jocelyn and Emily gave her attention to Miss
Stanhope.
“You were very kind to Miss Sykes,” she began. “Have you
known her long?”
“Since we were little girls,” Miss Stanhope said. “I’d quite
forgotten how timid she is unless she’s seated at the keyboard. I wish I played
as well.”
“I’m sure your playing is quite fine,” Emily said. “Do you
really enjoy gothic novels?”
“Yes, I do,” the younger woman admitted. “It’s rather fun
being scared, always wondering when the next thing will happen to the poor,
unsuspecting characters. And the authors are often so creative. Have you read
Mrs. Millicent Hawthorne’s newest novel, The Mystery of Blackwood Hall ?”
“No,”
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