Gentleman of Her Dreams by Jen Turano Page A

dinner.”
    “I thought you said Mr. Beckett was the most sought-after gentleman in New York?”
    “He is, but I think Miss Agatha finds him too old,” Mary said.
    “How old is he?”
    “He might be thirty.”
    “Thirty is hardly old.”
    “Not to you.”
    Eliza stifled a laugh. Here was further proof her disguise was a success seeing as how she was only twenty-one years old, not much older than Agatha. She sent Mary a smile and then headed for the door. “Thank you for your help, Mary.”
    “Maybe you should say some extra prayers to help you get though the evening,” Mary suggested.
    Since Eliza was less than pleased with God at the moment, seeing as how He had not helped her sort through the mess she currently found herself in, she ignored Mary’s statement.
    “Would you like me to help you down the stairs?” Mary asked as Eliza ran smack dab into the doorframe.
    “That won’t be necessary,” Eliza said as she sailed through the door, ruining the effect by tripping on the trailing fabric of her gown.
    “I’ll say those prayers for you,” Mary called as Eliza straightened and slowly walked down the hall.
    The steps proved to be quite the obstacle, and she finally had to push the spectacles down her nose in order to navigate them. She paused on the first landing to tug her hem out from under her feet, and as she did so, she saw a pair of eyes peering at her through a crack in a door.
    “Agatha,” she muttered.
    The door shut with a snap.
    Eliza considered marching over to the door and demanding Agatha take her rightful place at the table, but the arrival of another maid distracted her. She shoved the spectacles back up her nose.
    “Miss Sumner, Mrs. Watson is asking about you,” the maid said. “My, don’t you look . . . fetching.”
    Eliza released an unladylike snort. “I think hideous would be a more appropriate word.”
    “You might have a point,” the maid said. “Do you need help getting down to the dining room?You seem to be dragging a large amount of skirt behind you.”
    “I’ll be fine,” Eliza said, sending the closed door one last look before she continued on her way, vowing to herself she would have a few words with Agatha if she survived the evening.
    After what seemed like hours but was only minutes, she finally managed to reach the end of the stairs and cautiously made her way to the dining room.
    “Miss Sumner,” Mrs. Watson exclaimed, appearing at Eliza’s side. “What took you so long?”
    “I apologize, Mrs. Watson, but I had a bit of difficulty maneuvering down the steps.”
    Eliza couldn’t be certain, but she thought she saw Mrs. Watson’s lips quiver.
    “Oh dear, that gown is worse than I imagined,” Mrs. Watson declared as she took Eliza by the arm and peered into her face. “I must say, those spectacles are the perfect accessory. They make you look eccentric which will go far in explaining the gown.”
    As Eliza was trying for inconspicuous, the last thing she wanted to hear was that she’d managed “eccentric.”
    “This is a horrible idea,” she mumbled.
    “Nonsense,” Mrs. Watson said, steering Eliza through a crowd of people and coming to a halt in front of an incredibly long table.
    “How many guests did you invite?” Eliza sputtered.
    “Only fifty-two, well, fifty-three now that we’ve had an unexpected guest show up.”
    Hope blossomed.
    “That’s wonderful,” Eliza exclaimed. “Now you won’t need me to attend.”
    “I still need you seeing as how the unexpected guest is a gentleman. Mr. Zayne Beckett, to be exact. The family is railroad money, so please, be polite when you sit next to them at dinner.”
    “I’m sitting next to Mr. and Mr. Beckett?”
    “I know, it’s a bit unseemly to have someone of your station sitting next to my most honored guests, but I didn’t have time to rearrange the seating chart, and I’m hopeful we can use this to our advantage.”
    “I’m afraid I’m not following,” Eliza said slowly.
    Mrs.