Miss Nothing (Unexpected Heirs)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

K eynsham stood staring in bewilderment at the alcove where he’d left Miss Ryder.

She was not in it.

Had she slipped out and run away? Without any money? Of all the stubborn, independent, hardheaded…. He stopped a passing housemaid. “Excuse me. The young lady who was here by the door….”

She stared at him, her eyes wide with alarm. Clearly she assumed that she was about to be scolded for something. She shook her head before rushing away.

He must be logical. Before he panicked, he must first be certain that Miss Ryder was not somewhere else in the house.

He hurried back upstairs to the now-deserted entrance hall. He took the stairs to the first floor two at a time. The idea that she might have left without saying goodbye… that he would never see her again…

No. This couldn’t be the end of the story. He couldn’t not see her again.

But Miss Ryder was in none of the rooms that he checked.

He arrived in the ballroom just as a brassy flourish of trumpets sounded. A footman bawled, “His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales!”

Keynsham had attended Lady Sophronia’s annual balls for years. At every one of them, the prince arrived late. And at every one of them, his arrival was hailed with a trumpet blast.

But what happened next had never happened before. There was a collective gasp. This was followed by total silence, and then isolated titters.

Trapped behind the crowd, at first Keynsham couldn’t see why people were laughing. But as he made his way forward, he realized that everyone was staring into the saloon that adjoined the ballroom—the saloon where, every year, Lady Sophronia served ices to the dancers.

And in the saloon was… Miss Fairleigh. Her mouth was a comically round “O” of dismay. She stood next to an officer in a hussar’s uniform. And her frilly gown was… well, it was disarranged. Indeed it was half off one shoulder. She was struggling to pull it back up.

But Keynsham had almost no attention to spare for Miss Fairleigh. Because—standing behind her and the officer, her dark-lashed eyes wide with alarm—was Miss Ryder.

He blinked several times to clear his eyes. Was he seeing what he thought he was seeing? It was impossible!

Or at least, it would have been impossible… for anyone but Miss Ryder.

Why was she wearing an apron and holding a large tray full of silver dessert cups, as though she were a serving maid? What could she be thinking? He’d left her with strict instructions not to move!

But she looked so wretched and trapped that his heart went out to her. He seemed to feel the misery that this scene was inflicting upon her in his own heart. He willed her to look at him, wishing that he could somehow send her strength and reassurance. But she’d dropped her gaze to the floor.

He began to edge through the crowd, intending to rescue her first and ask questions later.

Everyone else seemed to be staring at Miss Fairleigh and the officer. Titters and giggles were spreading. Even his royal highness had his hand over his mouth, and his large shoulders shook with mirth.

Before Keynsham could reach Miss Ryder there was a violet stir in the crowd.

Mrs. Fairleigh, all elbows and fury, was shoving the other guests out of her way. She broke free of the crowd and stormed toward her daughter. “How dare you!”

At the same moment two footmen entered the saloon through the door from the back stairs. On their shoulders they were supporting an enormous tray. And on the tray was what seemed to be a hulking molded dessert in the shape of… .

Keynsham did a double-take. Good God! Was that a replica of Laversham Court, molded in cream ice? A few guests began to clap, but the applause quickly died out.

The footmen, struggling to keep the massive dessert balanced, hesitated.Mrs. Fairleigh seized her daughter by the arm and began trying to drag her away. “This is not what it seems!” she cried. “This—this seducer is nothing but a fortune-hunter who has attempted to compromise my daughter!” She whirled to face the crowd. “Mr. Keynsham! Mr. Keynsham! I see you there, Mr. Keynsham! You must demand satisfaction!”

The whole tableau was surreal: His grandmother, icily resplendent in sapphires and ostrich plumes, the prince, his face red with suppressed laughter, and—oh, dear lord, there was his mother, Lady Alford, clearly furious…

Everyone was staring him. He inclined his head slightly. “Have a care, madam. I am certain that you cannot wish to make any serious accusations.”

“Captain Woodward is no seducer!” Miss Fairleigh was in tears. “We are in love—and have been engaged this past twelvemonth!”

“Silence, you ungrateful girl!” Her mother gave her arm another violent tug. “Pay no attention to her, Mr. Keynsham. She does not know what she says. She has had her head turned by this man!”

Keynsham pitied Miss Fairleigh, silly as she was. “My dear Mrs. Fairleigh, may I suggest that you order your carriage and take your daughter home? No doubt the facts will emerge with, er… greater clarity in the morning, in the privacy of your own family circle.”

As Mrs. Fairleigh absorbed his meaning, her face grew red with rage. “How dare you! You mean to imply that I am drunk!” She glared about wildly, looking for a new target. “And what are you doing—standing there, gaping?” She’d turned on Miss Ryder. “This does not concern you! Never have I seen a worse-run household than this one—where kitchen drudges are suffered to laze about like fine ladies!”

“I—I beg your pardon, ma’am.” Miss Ryder’s voice was a choked whisper. “I was not lazing.”

“How dare you contradict me!” Mrs. Mallory’s hand came up—and she slapped Miss Ryder across the face.

Everyone gasped again. Miss Ryder stumbled backward. Her grip on the tray that she was carrying faltered. The silver goblets upon it tipped, fell over, clattered to the floor, and bounced and rolled in all directions.

The footmen holding the cream ice Laversham Court were already backing away, out of Mrs. Fairleigh’s reach. One of them stepped onto a stray dessert goblet. His foot shot out from under him. His free arm windmilled. The tray that supported the ice tilted.

The huge dessert began to slide—slowly at first, and then all at once. It hit the floor with a splat and exploded. Ice cream shot onto the stockings and breeches of the footmen, the skirts of Miss and Mrs. Fairleigh’s ball gowns, and across the front of Miss Ryder’s apron and gown.

At this, Miss Fairleigh covered her face and burst into loud sobs.

“You shameless hussy!” shouted Mrs. Fairleigh. “I’ll give you something to cry about!” She seized her daughter’s arm again and began dragging her away.

She stepped on another of the wayward dessert goblets.

She lost her balance and her grip on Miss Fairleigh. With a shriek she fell face first into the remains of the dessert.