Chapter 9
The minute Linnie returned home and took one step inside the foyer, she found the Smith household in its usual state of complete and total chaos.
Every last one of her Smith kin was gathered, each wearing an evening cloak and loudly speaking over one another.
The noisy din was caused by her younger, troublesome siblings racing about in cloaks and hats, wielding wooden swords in mock battle.
“Get here this instant, Oleander!” Mama cried. “Stop that now, Andromena!”
Linnie’s younger sister by a couple of years, Meghan, stood in the middle of the fray, looking equal parts thoroughly annoyed and bored.
Given the clamor, her family remained entirely too busy to note her arrival, even after the butler closed the door behind Linnie and announced her.
“Tell them, Brone, they cannot bring their swords . . .” Mama pleaded.
“You heard Mother.” Brone clapped his hands loudly. “No swords.”
In response, loud war whoops went up. Andromena and Oleander charged up the stairs, brandishing their weapons. All the while, they evaded the servants attempting to disarm them.
When the rambunctious twins proved too much for them, Meghan headed to collect them.
A frowning Campbell pulled out his watch fob and consulted the time.
“Oh, where is the girl?” Mama rang her hands. “We are certain to be late.”
From where Meghan managed to get a firm hold on the twins, she called out in droll tones, “Need I bother pointing out that Linnie is certain to be late. If the rest of us leave, we are certain to be early or, at worst, on time.”
Her focus having been briefly diverted, Meghan lost her grip on Andromena and Oleander. The twins got themselves free, scrambled past their elder sister, and made for the landing above.
Meghan’s inventive curse penetrated all the commotion, and she took off running after the scamps.
Mama wailed, “We simply cannot leave without Linnie!”
Linnie furrowed her brow. Where in blazes were all the McQuoid-Smiths going at this hour?
Campbell was the first to catch sight of Linnie. He shouted over the melee. “It appears the prodigal daughter has returned.”
His thunderous voice brought everyone to silence and a standstill. All eyes swung to Linnie. Even Oleander and Andromena darted back to the top of the stairwell to catch sight of Linnie.
Meghan scowled. “Splendid,” she muttered. “Perhaps we can go now.”
“Linnie, my goodness!” Mama came racing over. “Where in blazes have you been?”
“I was—”
“I sent servants to find you and your maid at the park.”
So that explained why Ada had abandoned the warmth of the carriage and gone racing in search of her.
And vexingly, it was the reason her time with Jeremy had been brought to an all-too-abrupt end just as he’d begun kiss—
Her mother’s high whine interrupted those yearnful musings. “Your aunt and uncle will be waiting, and after all this trouble they’ve gone to so quickly.”
Mama directed her attention back to the rest of the Smith brood. “Everyone, to the carriage now!”
This time, like dutiful soldiers all lined up for a march, they walked single file through the door held open by the wizened butler, Alfie, who was as flustered as the rest of the Smiths.
“Now come . . .” Mama looked at Linnie.
She finally really looked at her.
Linnie’s mother cried out, “Saints in heaven, you are a mess. You cannot attend dinner thus, which means we’ll now be late.”
“Dinner?”
“Dinner with Lord Culross!” her mother said, exasperated, as if Linnie should be well aware of an event she’d had absolutely no idea about.
“Dinner with Lord Culross?” Linnie repeated dumbly.
Even worse than her and Jeremy’s interlude in Hyde Park being cut short, she’d had to leave him so Arran could introduce her to the other great shipping magnate, Lord Culross.
“Yes, yes. Do pay attention, Linnie!”
Linnie’s stomach turned. “But I . . . When . . .” Her mind struggled to keep up. “How . . . ?”
Mama released a long sigh. “Your cousin indicated you were agreeable and took it upon himself to see a formal dinner readied in Lord Culross’s honor.”
She could not meet the gentleman, forget about entertaining a potential union between him and her family.
She wouldn’t.
“I said I was amenable,” Linnie gritted out. “Not that it should happen less than a day later.”
She’d only given her cousin that assurance so he’d leave and be spared a showdown—one Arran would absolutely lose—with Jeremy.
Her words fell on deaf ears.
“Mama, the carriages are readied.”
As one, Linnie and her mother looked to Meghan, who stood in the doorway.
“Th-this will never do! Your sister is a siiiiight!” With that mournful declaration, Mother dissolved into tears.
Linnie and Meghan shared a look. No words were necessary.
“Mama,” Meghan called loudly enough to make herself heard over their mother’s blubbering. “Might I make a suggestion?”
“Wh-what, Meghan?” Mama sobbed. “Wh-what solution can you possibly have?”
“Why do we not go ahead and leave Linnie to ready for the evening. With all the Smiths arriving as one, Linnie will only be lost in the shuffle for her first meeting with Lord Culross.”
God love her sister.
Mama ceased her tears and looked up with ecstatic eyes. “Yes, yes. What a brilliant idea, Meggy!”
“Sometimes I have them,” Linnie’s younger sister drawled.
Mama beamed. “Then when Linette meets Lord Culross, she will have a grand entrance!”
Equally befuddled, Linnie and Meghan asked at the same time, “Linette?”
Their mother adjusted the fastenings of her cloak. “That is how we shall introduce you.”
“But . . . but that isn’t my name!” Linnie hailed.
Meghan buried a laugh behind her fingers.
“Now, now, Linette,” Mama chided. “It’s a far grander name for a young lady.” With that pronouncement, she drew her hood into place. “Come along, Meghan. Tarry, Linette. But do not tarry too long.”
Meghan stole a last glance back and offered Linnie a sisterly wink of support.
“Thank you,” Linnie mouthed.
The door closed, and Linnie stood alone with the quiet, listening closely as the staccato step of the teams of horses bore her family away.
Ada stepped out of the shadows. “Miss, I’ve already had a bath summoned to your rooms and selected your finest evening gown for the evening.”
There existed a chance of absolute nil that Linnie would be paraded before Lord Culross.
Linnie gave the girl a grateful smile. “Thank you, Ada.”
Her maid dipped a curtsy and headed upstairs.
The moment Ada reached the top step, Linnie yanked the door open.
“Miss Linnie!”
The closing of the sturdy, bright-yellow oak door covered the rest of Ada’s frantic cries.
Linnie didn’t waste any time. She hied herself off.
Not in the direction of her aunt and uncle’s residence, but the one directly across the street from Highland Lodge, belonging to Cousin Myrtle and her husband, the Duke of Aragon.
The bright-orange glow cast by the lampposts would do Linnie few favors in helping hide her when the servants did come looking.
The soft candlelight, however, illuminated the slick spots of ice that’d formed on the pavement.
As she raced, the unforgivably cold winter air sucked the air from her pained lungs. Her chest burnt. But knowing it was mere moments before the servants stumbled outside, and energized by the hint of her cousin Cassia’s residence in the near distance, she gave up on the pavement.
Hitching her skirts higher, Linnie chose to run through the sturdier banks of snow.
The puffs of white her breath left as she went clouded the air.
At the exact same moment she heard the frantic, worried cries of her family’s servants, she turned the corner.
Smiling, exultant, Linnie raced to reach the Duke and Duchess of Aragon’s ivy-covered, black metal gates.
She staggered to a stop.
The Duke and Duchess of Aragon’s locked ivy-covered, black metal gates.
Linnie, winded, her muscles aching as much as her feet, face, and entire body from the cold, bent over her knees and attempted to get sufficient air into her lungs.
Locked.
Horror replaced her very, very fleeting sense of triumph.
Frantic, she cast her gaze about until she wheeled around slowly and stopped, her stare fixed on the cheerfully and brightly lit residence across the street.
Green-and-gold-embroidered curtains, drawn and neatly tied like Christmas bows, framed the happy tableau behind those frosted windowpanes.
The McQuoids and Smiths were all gathered.
Oh, hell on a Sunday.
All one member of her impossibly big family need do was steal a glance outside, and they’d find Linnie there, even more disheveled and rumpled.
The hell they would.
Clenching her teeth, Linnie did another quick assessment of her surroundings.
Her gaze alighted on the white brick wall that flanked either side of her cousin’s locked gates.
She didn’t even hesitate.
Taking a running jump to give herself some velocity, Linnie timed her sprint.
She narrowed her eyes, released her skirts, and made a grab for the brick wall.
Her fingers found purchase, and she swallowed a victorious cry.
Panting, she hefted herself up inch by inch.
Her earlier efforts to elude the Smith family servants, however, had left Linnie with sodden skirts that added several stones. Hampered by that increased weight, she strained her muscles and fought with everything she was and had to haul herself over the blasted brick wall.
Linnie gasped for breath and energy.
Close.
I am so c—
“Might I be of some assistance, miss?”
Shrieking, Linnie lost her grip and went tumbling back into the snow.
No, no, no. N— “Oomph.”
She came down so hard on her back that all the wind was knocked clear out of her lungs. Dazed, Linnie stared up at the star-studded sky.
No, wait, a thick curtain of white and grey clouds hung over London; those flecks were dots in her vision.
Linnie closed her eyes and focused on clearing the lightheaded, foggy sensation in her head.
Absolutely everything hurt. Frigid snow stung like jagged bits of glass and penetrated her cloak and bared legs, biting into her bruised skin.