“Guard my possessions?” She raised her brows, no doubt trying to look haughty, but she couldn't quite manage to mask her confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Reggie has been busy again.”
She shrugged. “I know that. Your mother made the announcement at breakfast. She put the things he took on a table in the little yellow salon, and I'm happy to tell you I just checked. Nothing of mine is there.”
“Nothing of yours is there because I still have the item in my room.”
Now she was beginning to look a little alarmed, though she tried hard not to show it. “You do?”
“Yes. It's of a rather personal and, er, scandalous nature. I thought you might not wish the company to know about it.”
Her eyes widenedâand then she laughed. “You are teasing me, Lord Edward. I'm sure I don't own anything s-scandalous that Reggie could possibly have taken. The item is probably Lady Heldon's or Ophelia's.” She arched a brow. “Or perhaps it is Lady Juliet's.”
He hated this false, brittle gaiety. What had happened to her? Ellie had always been direct and truthful. Well, and he supposed he was being rather less than direct himself. “Oh, no, it's yours all right. It's quite distinctive.” He paused. His better self insisted he stop, but his better self was easily silenced. “It's very ... red.”
Ellie gasped and turned pale just as Mama and the rest of the party entered.
Mama focused on them immediately. “Oh, there you two are. Having a bit of a tête-à -tête, then?”
“No.” Damn it, he felt like a blackguard. It was clear to anyone with eyes that Ellie was upset. “We were just discussing Sir Reginald's bad habits.”
“Yes.” Ellie gave him a small smile of thanks, which only made him feel worse. “Lord Edward was reminding me to secure my possessions.”
Mama laughed. “I'm afraid that's a hopeless task, as nothing is secure from Sir Reginald. I don't know how he does it, but if Reggie wants something, he'll get it.”
Humphrey sniffed. “Permit me to say, your grace, that it seems highly unlikely a mere animal could make off with so many objects of such various sizes and shapes. I'm very much afraid one of your guests”âhere he looked frowningly at the gatheringâ“is playing an ill-considered joke on us, and I must register my extreme displeasure at having someone paw through my personal effects.”
Ned would wager a goodly sum that the false calf belonged to Humphrey. Hmm. He did look a trifle lopsided.
“Paw is the exact word,” Jack said. “Reggie was caught red-handedâor perhaps I should say âred-mouthed' as that's how he carries his lootâlast year. And you may object all you wantâNed objects vehemently when he finds the things under his bedâbut Reggie hasn't yet been persuaded to stop.”
“I see.” Humphrey tugged on his waistcoat. “Well, in that case may I suggest the animal be put out in the stables for the duration of the gathering?”
There was a stunned silence; the duchess stared at Mr. Humphrey as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head.
“It w-would solve the problem,” Miss Mosely ventured rather timidly, “w-wouldn't it?”
Her grace transferred her gaze to Miss Mosely. “Sir Reginald,” she said, “is a
house
cat.”
“But surely for a few daysâ” Mr. Humphrey stopped and tugged on his waistcoat again as the duchess returned her attention to him.
“Would
you
care to stay in the stables for a few days, sir?”
“Er, no, of course not, butâ”
Her grace put up a hand to stop him. She could be quite imperious when she chose to be. “Neither would Sir Reginald.”
“Well, I must say if a cat's comfort is more important than ...” Mr. Humphrey's bluster died under the duchess's unwavering gaze. His nose twitched. “Yes, well, indeed. It is all highly irregular.”
Her grace smiled gently. “Duchesses can be âhighly irregular,' Mr. Humphrey. It's one of the perks of the position.”
“At least you aren't as irregular as the Earl of Landly, your grace,” Mr. Cox said. “You know he dresses his poodle in a velvet suit and assigns him his own footman.”
The duchess snorted. “Poor Landly is daftâand Reggie would never stand for such nonsense.”
The duke chuckled. “Whoever tried to get Reggie into any clothes at all would have his hands and face slashed to ribbons for his efforts.”
“Exactly.” The duchess glanced at Mr. Humphrey. “Reggie doesn't suffer fools gladly.”
Mr. Humphrey sputtered, but for once held his tongue.
“Obviously, Humphrey has yet to meet Sir Reginald,” Ned muttered.
Ellie bit her lip and whispered back. “Perhaps it's best they never encounter each other.”
Ned grunted. “Reggie has the sense to avoid Humphrey, but I'm not so sure Humphrey is as wise.”
Her grace had turned her attention to the entire group. “Please take your seats, everyone, so I can explain today's activity.”
Ellie hesitated. She should sit by Mr. Cox and continue ... well, she wasn't certain what. She'd thought they'd started something last night, but then there'd been that odd trip up the stairs and the man's even odder behavior at her bedroom door. Besides, he was on the other side of the room; it would be more obvious than she cared to be at the moment if she made a point of seeking him out.
She might sit with Mr. Humphrey, but Miss Mosely had already taken a place at his side, likely helping soothe his lacerated sensibilities. Well, sensibilities were better lacerated than hands and faceâReggie would take violent exception to anyone mad enough to try to move him to the stables. And the pain would all be for naughtâshe'd wager a year's pin money the cat would be back in the castle long before his evictor had closed the stable door.
Ned gestured to the settee he'd been occupying. “Care to join me while we listen to what torture Mama has in store for us?”
“Er, thank you.” He
was
standing right next to herâit would be rude to walk away. And if she took this seat, Lady Juliet couldn'tâthough she saw the other girl had already joined Mr. Cox.
So she sat, and he settled himself next to her.
The settee was far too small. If she reached over just a little, she could put her hand on Ned's thigh.
She laced her fingers in her lap.
“If you've looked out any of the windows,” the duchess was saying, “you know the snow is still coming down quite heavily. We don't want to lose any of you in a snow bank or have you frozen into icicles, so we will not be venturing outside today.” She smiled at Ellie. “Any sledge races will have to wait.”
Did Ned growl?
She ignored him.
“Fortunately,” the duchess continued, “I anticipated bad weather, though I'd thought we'd have rain rather than snow. February is so unpredictable, isn't it?”
“Oh yes, your grace,” Miss Mosely said. “I had a terrible time deciding what to pack.”
Mr. Humphrey cleared his throat.
Oh, no. One would think the man would still be slightly deflated, but apparently not.
“Indeed, I must agree with Miss Mosely as I, too, was forced to spend an inordinate amount of time contemplating what to bring to this delightful gathering. I ...”
Ellie let her attention wander back to Mr. Cox as Mr. Humphrey droned on. Lady Juliet was whispering to him.
Mr. Cox looked bored.
Heavens, why wasn't the man showing more interest? If he truly loved Lady Juliet, he should be delighted she was talking to him. Not that Ellie cared, precisely, but if Lady Juliet married Mr. Coxâand last evening's events suggested she felt some sort of attachment to himâshe would not marry Ned. And she shouldn't marry Ned if she didn't love him. Ned had already suffered Cicely's loss; it would be beyond cruel if he had to deal with the pain of an unfaithful, uncaring wife.
Not to mention Ellie wouldn't have to watch him marry someone else again, at least not yet.
“I will admit”âMr. Humphrey was still going onâ“that it is easier for gentlemen to travel than ladies as we don't have to bring the assortment of dresses and spencers and such you lovely ones must carry to dazzle our male eyes; however, we poor men do have to select the proper waistcoats”âMr. Humphrey had selected a rather bilious green one todayâ“and transport a vast quantity of cravats in order to appear before you with a suitably arranged creation.”
“Yes.” It was beginning to look as if Miss Mosely had lost control of her head, she was bobbing it so regularly in her agreement with Mr. Humphrey. “Yes, indeed. My brother always says a man must bring a valise full of cravats when he leaves home.”
“Good God,” Ned muttered. “Do you suppose Mama would object if I put us all out of our misery by stuffing Humphrey's cravat down his throat?”
Ellie gasped and giggled at the same time, making a sort of strangled gurgle.
“Are you all right?” Ned asked.
“Umm.”
Fortunately, her grace had finally wrested the conversation from Mr. Humphrey's deadly grasp. “I'm sure that's all very interesting, but as for today's activity, weâ”
“I have a good book,” Jack called out, “so don't feel you need to contrive anything on my account.” He'd taken a chair closest to the duchessâand farthest from Miss Wharton. The duke was propped against the mantel nearby.
“And I have some letters that need answering,” Ash offered. He'd chosen a chair at a good distance from Lady Heldon.
The duchess frowned at them. “Of course you will wish to put aside your other diversions to participate once you hear what we'll be doing.” She paused to smile at everyone. “We're going to have a treasure hunt.”
Miss Wharton actually squealedâEllie wasn't certain she'd ever heard a grown woman make that particular soundâand clapped her hands. “A treasure hunt? How exciting!”
“And what treasure are we hunting?” Lady Heldon asked, interrupting her whispered conversation with Ophelia.
“Coins and bank-notes, I hope,” Percy said.
“No, Percy.” The duchess frowned at him. “Of course there will be no coins or bank-notes. What are you thinking?”
“That he's so far up River Tick, he'll never find his way home,” Ned muttered.
“Shush.” Ellie frowned at himâand then jerked her eyes back to the duchess. Why did Ned have to be so damn handsome? Any woman would want to lose herself in his deep brown eyes.
But not she. No. She was done with pining for him.
“My dear brother-in-law must be at very low ebb indeed,” he said, “to be so blatant about his interest in the ready.”
Ellie darted him a glance. “That's not news. He's been living hand to mouth for years.”
Ned's brows rose. “He has?”
“Didn't you know? He traded on his expectations until he inherited and then discovered he was expecting far too much. Apparently his father also let money slip through his fingers like water.”
“Hmm. I didn't know that, though I suppose I should have suspected it.”
He didn't know because he'd been too enamored of Cicely to notice.
No, that wasn't fair. The rumors hadn't started until after Cicely's mother diedâtwo months after Cicely, when Ned was lost in grief.
“Everyone says Lady Headley held the purse strings,” Ellie said. “Once she was gone, there was no stopping Sir Arthur.” The kinder souls attributed his sudden wildness to sorrow at the loss of his wife, but given that Percy's father died of an apoplexy nine months later while in bed with two of the maids, Ellie took leave to doubt that.
Ned was shaking his head. “I definitely should have guessed. Percy had been begging money from Cicely ever since we marriedâperhaps before, for all I knowâand once she died, he put the touch on me. I cut him off this Christmas; he must be down to his last farthing now. We'll probably find him looking behind the cushions for spare change.”
“So what
are
we hunting, your grace?” Lady Heldon asked again.
The duchess smiled and looked around the room. “In honor of St. Valentine's Day, the duke and I have hidden a dozen paper hearts in the castle's dungeon.”
“Paper hearts?!”
Percy dropped his head into his hands.
Miss Wharton reacted with more enthusiasm. “A dungeon! A real dungeon?”
“Well,” the duke said, “it's really more of a glorified cellar. We use it to store wineâthough we did
not
hide any hearts in that area”âhe directed his gaze at Percyâ“and furniture and other items we don't use at the moment.”