cook. No one bakes a better pie. We won’t be a burden, really—we will be a help. Perhaps you will enjoy our companionship. Oh, please, do let us stay!”
“I do bake a wonderful pie,” Lizzie said with a quicksmile. “We would love to be companions to you, if you will but let us.”
“I have this scalawag as a companion,” Eleanor said tartly. “He never leaves me alone!”
Rory said gently, “You would benefit from such female companionship. It is long overdue and I cannot attend you as much as I would like to. You know I am off to Wicklowe in a few days.”
Lizzie was certain he meant Wicklow county and not the earl of Adare’s mansion in the Pale.
Eleanor faced him. “You are the one who thinks to benefit here, I can see that, you handsome rogue. And those affairs of yours shall only land you in the King’s tower!”
Rory raised his brows in mock exasperation. “Do not worry about me, Auntie,” he said. “May I remind you I must go to London soon? I will not be back until midsummer. And then what will you do? I do not wish you to be lonely, Auntie,” he cajoled. Then he grinned. “And I confess I should not mind such pleasant company when I call.” His gaze wandered away from his aunt. Lizzie was surprised when he winked at her.
Eleanor grunted. “You are off and about half of the time. I shall do as I always do—hie myself off to Glen Barry in Wicklow.” But she was clearly falling under his very charming spell.
Rory left Anna and took both of his aunt’s hands. “Do let them stay,” he murmured.
Lizzie had never seen such an open display of gentle persuasion.
Eleanor’s expression broke, softening. “We shall see.” She glared at Lizzie and Anna. “You may spend the night.” With that, she turned on her heel, striding quite briskly from the room.
Rory folded his arms over his broad chest and turned to face the sisters. There was no laughter in his eyes. Lizzie was afraid of whatever he was thinking. Very stiffly, she said, “Thank you, sir.”
His lashes lowered, hiding whatever speculation he might be entertaining, and he bowed. “I hope your sister feels better soon.” Without another glance, he left the room.
Lizzie’s knees instantly gave way. In utter relief, she collapsed on the sofa beside Anna, who wiped at the tears that she now let fall. “Oh, God,” Anna whispered. “She is a witch, a terrible witch! That was even worse than I imagined it would be!”
Lizzie took Anna’s hand. “It is very fortunate that you fainted.” She hesitated and added, “Well, I am afraid we owe Mr. McBane.”
Anna inhaled. “Yes, it seems that we do.”
5
A Dreadful Revelation
T he next day, Lizzie sat with Anna in the family salon, an unopened book on her lap. Anna held a piece of embroidery, but she had yet to make a single stitch, just as Lizzie had yet to read a single word. Yesterday they had wisely decided to retire to their rooms—they had each been given a separate bedroom—and Eleanor had not asked them down to dine. They knew she did not leave her rooms until eleven, so they had spent the morning in careful preparation for their next fateful encounter. It was eleven now.
Lizzie’s head was aching. She rubbed her temples, aware of the beautiful spring day outside the house, and wished she were able to enjoy it. From the windows in the salon, she could see a sky as blue as a cornflower and she could hear birds singing in the park. But how could she enjoy anything, much less the pleasant day, when she did not know if she and her sister were about to be booted from the house? The throbbing in her temples increased.
Suddenly Eleanor’s clicking heels sounded. She was rapidly approaching. Lizzie shared a terribly worried glance with her sister. Anna began to sew industriously and immediately, Lizzie pretended to read with great absorption.
Unbearably stiff, Lizzie stole a glance at the door. Itwas opened by the dapper Frenchman, Leclerc, and her aunt appeared in his
“I do bake a wonderful pie,” Lizzie said with a quicksmile. “We would love to be companions to you, if you will but let us.”
“I have this scalawag as a companion,” Eleanor said tartly. “He never leaves me alone!”
Rory said gently, “You would benefit from such female companionship. It is long overdue and I cannot attend you as much as I would like to. You know I am off to Wicklowe in a few days.”
Lizzie was certain he meant Wicklow county and not the earl of Adare’s mansion in the Pale.
Eleanor faced him. “You are the one who thinks to benefit here, I can see that, you handsome rogue. And those affairs of yours shall only land you in the King’s tower!”
Rory raised his brows in mock exasperation. “Do not worry about me, Auntie,” he said. “May I remind you I must go to London soon? I will not be back until midsummer. And then what will you do? I do not wish you to be lonely, Auntie,” he cajoled. Then he grinned. “And I confess I should not mind such pleasant company when I call.” His gaze wandered away from his aunt. Lizzie was surprised when he winked at her.
Eleanor grunted. “You are off and about half of the time. I shall do as I always do—hie myself off to Glen Barry in Wicklow.” But she was clearly falling under his very charming spell.
Rory left Anna and took both of his aunt’s hands. “Do let them stay,” he murmured.
Lizzie had never seen such an open display of gentle persuasion.
Eleanor’s expression broke, softening. “We shall see.” She glared at Lizzie and Anna. “You may spend the night.” With that, she turned on her heel, striding quite briskly from the room.
Rory folded his arms over his broad chest and turned to face the sisters. There was no laughter in his eyes. Lizzie was afraid of whatever he was thinking. Very stiffly, she said, “Thank you, sir.”
His lashes lowered, hiding whatever speculation he might be entertaining, and he bowed. “I hope your sister feels better soon.” Without another glance, he left the room.
Lizzie’s knees instantly gave way. In utter relief, she collapsed on the sofa beside Anna, who wiped at the tears that she now let fall. “Oh, God,” Anna whispered. “She is a witch, a terrible witch! That was even worse than I imagined it would be!”
Lizzie took Anna’s hand. “It is very fortunate that you fainted.” She hesitated and added, “Well, I am afraid we owe Mr. McBane.”
Anna inhaled. “Yes, it seems that we do.”
5
A Dreadful Revelation
T he next day, Lizzie sat with Anna in the family salon, an unopened book on her lap. Anna held a piece of embroidery, but she had yet to make a single stitch, just as Lizzie had yet to read a single word. Yesterday they had wisely decided to retire to their rooms—they had each been given a separate bedroom—and Eleanor had not asked them down to dine. They knew she did not leave her rooms until eleven, so they had spent the morning in careful preparation for their next fateful encounter. It was eleven now.
Lizzie’s head was aching. She rubbed her temples, aware of the beautiful spring day outside the house, and wished she were able to enjoy it. From the windows in the salon, she could see a sky as blue as a cornflower and she could hear birds singing in the park. But how could she enjoy anything, much less the pleasant day, when she did not know if she and her sister were about to be booted from the house? The throbbing in her temples increased.
Suddenly Eleanor’s clicking heels sounded. She was rapidly approaching. Lizzie shared a terribly worried glance with her sister. Anna began to sew industriously and immediately, Lizzie pretended to read with great absorption.
Unbearably stiff, Lizzie stole a glance at the door. Itwas opened by the dapper Frenchman, Leclerc, and her aunt appeared in his
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