Chapter 10
Lizzie woke up with cotton mouth and a rapidly growing headache.
She rolled onto her side and groaned as the events of last night unfolded in her mind.
Her horror grew along with her headache.
She’d almost been killed by a crazed time traveler.
Who was that ghastly man? His clothes were all over the place.
The jeans and boots put him in the twentieth or twenty-first century.
His tuxedo jacket looked like something from a nineteen-forties movie and his sweater could have been knitted by any grandma in any time.
His intent in trying to find out the whereabouts of Lord Ashford hadn’t seemed to be friendly and he’d babbled on about witches.
God, what had that been about? She didn’t want to believe she was in any way in league with a witch. Solomon Wodge had to be insane.
She untangled herself from the bedding, realizing she still had on her clothes from the night before.
She really shouldn’t have had a drink at all, and certainly not on an empty stomach.
And most certainly not with Quinn. Her queasy stomach dropped and she eyed the basin, taking deep, calming breaths.
What had she done? She remembered he’d carried her up the stairs, and she’d liked it.
Oh God, she’d snuggled up to him and breathed in his warm, masculine scent.
Her face burned and she rested her head in her hands.
She also remembered wanting him to kiss her, actively wishing for him to do it.
She managed to stand up, certain she needed to get downstairs as quickly as possible and if there was no excursion planned, plan one straight away.
Anything to avoid being near him, at least until she could see straight.
Her door slammed open and the cook poked her head in, a sanctimonious smile on her face.
“You’re wanted downstairs. Your young lady’s got a visitor.
” She leaned against the door frame and gave her a judgmental once over.
Lizzie looked down at her rumpled clothes and then reached up to feel her hair.
Yes, it was out of its pins and felt like a muppet that had been torn apart by dingoes. “Shall I tell them you’re indisposed?”
Lizzie forced herself to make it across the room where she drank down the stale water that was left in her pitcher.
“I’ll be down,” she said, already feeling better from the water and getting her joints unkinked.
She frowned at the cook. “You’re looking fine today, Mrs. Biddle. That dark green suits you.”
Mrs. Biddle stepped into the room, practically licking her lips in anticipation of the meaty bribe she knew she was about to get. Lizzie waved her hand at her jewelry box. “In fact, I have a pin that would look divine against the collar.”
As it was, Mrs. Biddle took the pin and almost a week’s worth of wages.
If Lizzie hadn’t counted on being gone in a few weeks it might have depressed her.
But she needed the cook to keep quiet if she wanted a place to live until Lord Ashford arrived for her, and if that didn’t work out, she at least knew she could get her cut from Lady Hollingsborn after the match between her son and Catie was settled.
The cook’s greed rankled her though, exacerbated by her irritation with herself for getting caught.
Going to such a dangerous area late at night, by herself, on the summons of someone she didn’t know, had been stupid in the extreme.
The fact that she really might have been killed began to sink in.
Her spirits sank even further when the guests who’d arrived that morning were none other than Lady Hollingsborn and her mercenary son.
They certainly didn’t waste any time in staking their claim, which she supposed should make her happy to have so little work to do, but it somehow annoyed her to see Edwin fawning over Catie.
She reminded herself that Edwin Hollingsborn had a good title, good land, and it was a good match despite his debts.
She couldn’t help but think Catie deserved better, much better.
But she herself wouldn’t benefit from a more honest match, so she pushed aside her scruples, though she found it harder than usual.
Catie looked up when Lizzie entered the drawing room where she and Lady Amberly were being courted.
There was something off about Catie’s demeanor.
Her smile seemed forced and her eyes were overly bright, almost hard, when she nodded her greeting.
It was likely she’d been too excited to sleep last night after her great social success and was probably flustered by the sudden attention.
Lizzie felt ashamed for not being there to help her when the guests had first arrived.
Lizzie apologized for her delay and blamed it on a headache, which she assured everyone was gone and they mustn’t fuss.
Her headache actually still pulsed painfully behind her eyes and she was starving.
She nibbled dejectedly on the biscuits that were mostly being ignored by everyone else, and tried to pour herself some tea without rattling the cup.
Lady Amberly droned on about her country residence to Lady Hollingsborn, who in turn blathered on about her own, dropping a weighty hint at a possible afternoon excursion, which of course they were to be included.
Lizzie wagered it wouldn’t be a party worth having if Catie didn’t attend, and wondered meanly how many rooms now stood empty of furniture in order to fund it.
“That sounds marvelous,” Lady Amberly said, fluttering her fan.
Lizzie felt a bit sorry for her. She only had one son, who was off in the military somewhere, completely uninterested in settling down any time soon.
It seemed a niece was a good enough replacement for a daughter, and Lady Amberly, who’d been nervous about coming to town for the first time in so long, now basked in all of Catie’s reflected glory.
When the invitation actually came, Lady Amberly would most likely be too overcome with anxiety to accept it.
The butler cleared his throat in the doorway, announcing yet another visitor, Mr. Oliver Cliffstone.
Lizzie found it interesting and a bit disconcerting to see Catie’s eyes light up when he entered, and she sighed inwardly, not counting on competition for her front-runner.
She made a point to find out more about him.
The first thing she noticed, with some amusement, was that Oliver wasn’t shy at all, and sat right next to Catie, effectively blocking her from easily conversing with Edwin.
If her head didn’t hurt so much, it would have been fun to watch, as Edwin’s face turned an unattractive shade of purple.
When Catie immediately began animatedly talking to Oliver, Edwin looked as if he might stand up and throw down his glove.
“I enjoyed our stroll the other day, Miss Catriona,” Oliver said to her. He had a sweet face and was closer to Catie’s age, probably twenty at the oldest, and Lizzie thought he might end up quite handsome when he filled out a bit. “I pray you’ll make it a habit to walk there again?”
“I am verra much hoping to take another turn in the park,” Catie answered, glancing hopefully at her aunt and then Lizzie.
“Then we must set it up immediately,” Oliver said. “Merely name the time and date and I shall be there.”
Lizzie’s glance flew to Edwin, whose eyes shot daggers at Oliver’s back. Catie nearly swooned at Oliver’s attention. It was clear to everyone who she favored at the moment. Lizzie knew she had to take control of the situation, confirmed by Lady Hollingsborn staring pointedly at her.
“I-I think that sounds…” Catie trailed off.
“Of course, daily exercise is important for all young people,” Lady Amberly filled the space. “I take great pleasure in the outdoors when I’m at home. The city air seems quite the opposite of healthful though.”
“The city air is quite poor,” Edwin agreed, leaning around Oliver’s back to try to catch Catie’s eye. “My covered carriage is at your service, Miss Catie, whenever you’d care to see the sights.”
Lizzie almost choked that he used her nickname so boldly, and when Catie answered that taking a carriage defeated the purpose of exercise, she nearly laughed out loud at his discomfort.
She had to get it together before she lost Lady Hollingsborn’s offer.
Although, the way Edwin looked at Catie, it seemed that he might actually be interested in her for more than just her money.
He was a competitive sort apparently, for as soon as Oliver showed up and tossed his hat in the ring, the prize seemed all the shinier.
Before she could manage to agree that a carriage ride sounded lovely, Quinn filled up the doorway, stealing the small shred of mental capacity she’d been trying to nurture by sipping her tea. What she wouldn’t give for a Bloody Mary and a plate full of bacon right now.
Instead she got assaulted by a combination of nerves and vague embarrassment, not sure exactly how embarrassed she should be about what happened last night.
Quinn entered the room and his quick smirk in her direction told her the answer was plenty.
Plenty embarrassed. Damn Scot. He probably mixed his oats with whisky.
His eyes were clear and sparkling with knowledge as he leveled his gaze on her before greeting everyone else.
Oliver jumped up to shake his hand, seeming more at ease in his presence than the first time they met in the park.
Edwin must not have met Quinn at the party the night before and was plainly ill at ease with the realization that his target had a massive, steely-eyed older brother.
Quinn quite irritatingly played up his fierce facade, towering over Edwin and probably nearly breaking his hand when Lady Amberly made the introduction.