"Good morning, Lady Danbury," Elizabeth said, immediately making her way toward the older woman. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I'm seventy-two years old," she retorted.
"Well, that's unfortunate," Elizabeth replied with a perfectly straight face, "since I have it on the best of accounts that you are no more than sixty-seven."
"Impertinent chit. You know very well I'm sixty-six."
Elizabeth hid her smile. "Do you need assistance getting to the drawing room? Have you eaten yet this morning?''
“Had two eggs already and three pieces of toast, and I don't want to sit in the drawing room this morning."
Elizabeth blinked in surprise. She and Lady Danbury spent every morning in the drawing room. And of Lady D's many lectures, her most favorite was on the prophylactic qualities of routine.
"I have decided to sit in the garden," Lady D announced.
"Oh," Elizabeth said. "I see. That's a lovely idea. The air is quite fresh this morning, and the breeze is rather-''
"I am going to take a nap."
That announcement completely robbed Elizabeth of speech. Lady Danbury frequently dozed off, but she never admitted to it, and she certainly never used the word "nap."
“Do you need assistance walking to the garden?'' Mr. Siddons asked. "I would be happy to accompany you."
Elizabeth jumped a few inches. She'd completely forgotten his presence.
"Not at all," Lady D said crisply. "I don't move very quickly these days, but I'm not dead. Come along, Malcolm." Then she hobbled away, Malcolm trotting along at her side.
Elizabeth just stared after them, one hand clapped to her cheek in shock.
"It's truly remarkable how well she's trained her cat," James said.
Elizabeth turned to him, a stunned look on her face. “Does she seem ill to you?"
"No, why?"
She waved her arms awkwardly in the direction of Lady Danbury's retreating form, completely unable to verbalize the extent of her shock.
James regarded her with an amused expression. "Is it so very odd that she might wish to take a nap in the garden? The weather is fine."
"Yes!" she said, concern making her voice overloud. "This is very strange."
"Well, I'm sure she-"
"I tell you, it's strange." Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't like this. I don't like this one bit."
He cocked his head and gave her an assessing glance. "What do you propose we do?"
She squared her shoulders. "I'm going to spy on her."
"You're going to watch her sleep?" he asked dubiously.
“Do you have any better ideas?''
“Better than watching an elderly woman sleep? Well, yes, actually, if hard-pressed I believe I could come up with one or two pastimes that would be-''
"Oh, shush!" she said irritatedly. "I don't need your assistance, anyway."
James smiled. "Had you asked for it?"
"As you so kindly pointed out," she said with a lofty lift of her chin, "it isn't so terribly difficult to watch an old woman sleep. I'm sure you have other, more important duties. Good day."
James's lips parted in surprise as she stalked off. Hang it all, he hadn't meant to offend her. "Elizabeth, wait!"
She stopped and turned around, probably more surprised by his use of her given name than she was by his outburst. Hell, he had surprised himself. It was just that she had occupied his thoughts for days, and he'd begun to think of her as Elizabeth, and-
"Yes?" she finally said.
"I'll come with you."
She gave him a rather annoyed look. “You do know how to be quiet, don't you? I don't want her catching us spying on her."
James's lips began to twitch, and it was all he could do not to burst out laughing. "You may feel confident that I shall not give us away," he said with full gravity. "I pride myself on being a rather good spy."
She scowled. "That's an odd statement. And- I say, are you all right?''
“Right as rain, why?''
"You look as if you're about to sneeze."
He caught sight of a floral arrangement and mentally latched on to it. "Flowers always make me sneeze."
"You didn't sneeze yesterday in the rose garden."
He cleared his throat and thought fast. "Those aren't roses," he said, pointing at the vase.
"Either way, I can't take you along," she said with a dismissive nod. "There are flowers all along the perimeter of the garden. I can't have you sneezing every two minutes."
"Oh, I won't," he said quickly. "Only cut flowers do this to me."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I have never heard of such an affliction."
“Neither have I. Never met anyone else who reacts the same way. It must be something in the stem. Something that… ah… releases into the air when the stem is cut."
She gave him another dubious look, so he embellished the tale by saying, “It gives me a devil of a time when I'm courting a lady. God help me if I attempt to offer her flowers."
"Very well," she said briskly. "Come along. But if you botch this-"
"I won't," he assured her.
"If you botch this," she repeated, louder this time, "I shall never forgive you."
He let his head and shoulders dip slightly forward in a small bow. "Lead the way, Miss Hotchkiss."
She took a few steps, then stopped and turned around, her blue eyes turning just a little bit hesitant. "Earlier, you called me Elizabeth."
"Forgive me," he murmured. "I overstepped."
James watched the play of emotion across her face. She wasn't certain whether to allow him the liberty of her given name. He could see her naturally friendly nature battling with her need to keep him at arm's length. Finally she tightened the corners of her mouth and said, “It is of no great import. We servants are not terribly formal here at Danbury House. If the cook and butler call me Elizabeth, you may as well, too."
James felt his heart fill with a rather absurd satisfaction. "Then you must call me James," he replied.
"James." She tested it out on her tongue, then added, “I should never refer to you as such, of course, if someone asked after you."
"Of course not. But if we are alone, there is no need to stand on occasion."
She nodded. "Very well, Mr.-" She smiled sheepishly. "James. We should be on our way."
He followed her through a maze of hallways; she insisted on taking a circuitous route so as not to rouse Lady Danbury's suspicions. James didn't see how their presence in the ballroom, breakfast room, and hothouse all in one morning could cause anything but suspicion, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Elizabeth was clearly taking a quiet satisfaction in her position as leader, and besides, he was rather enjoying the view from the rear.
When they finally emerged in the open air, they were on the east side of the house, close to the front, about as far away from the garden as possible. "We could have exited through the French doors in the music room," Elizabeth explained, “but this way we can make our way behind those hedges and follow them all the way around."
"An excellent idea," he murmured, following her around the back of the hedges. The shrubbery stood twelve feet tall, completely shielding them from view of the house. To his great surprise, as soon as Elizabeth turned that corner around the back of the hedges, she started running. Well, perhaps not running, but she was certainly moving somewhere between a brisk walk and a trot.
His legs were much longer than hers, though, and all he needed to do to keep up was lengthen his stride. "Are we truly in such a rush?" he inquired.
She turned around but did not stop walking. "I'm very worried about Lady Danbury," she said, then resumed her hurried pace.
James viewed this time alone with Elizabeth as an excellent opportunity to study her, but his pragmatic sensibilities still forced him to comment, "Surely life at Danbury House is not so mundane that the oddest occurrence of the summer is a woman of six and sixty taking a nap."
She whirled around again. "I'm sorry if you find my company dull, but if you recall, you were not forced to accompany me."
"Oh, your company is anything but dull," he said, flashing her his smoothest smile. "I simply do not understand the gravity of the situation."