"So," she said with an uncomfortable laugh, "unless you've a fortune tucked away, I really don't see how you can help me."
"Well," he said, avoiding an outright lie, "I'd thought to aid you in a different manner."
"What do you mean?"
He chose his words carefully. “I know a bit about the art of flirtation. Before I sought employment, I was… not precisely active, but I did participate in the social scene."
"In London?" she asked dubiously. "With the ton?"
“I will never understand the complexities of a London season," he said, quite emphatically.
"Oh. Well, that's no matter, I suppose, as I lack the funds for a season." She looked back up and offered him a rueful smile. "And even if I didn't, it would all go toward Lucas's education, anyway."
He stared at her, taking in the sight of that delicate oval face and big blue eyes. She had to be the least selfish person he'd ever met. "You're a good sister, Elizabeth Hotchkiss," he said quietly.
"Not really," she said in a sad voice. Sometimes I feel so resentful. If I were a better person I'd-"
"Nonsense," he interrupted. "There is nothing wrong with anger over injustice."
She laughed. "It's not injustice, James, it's just poverty. I'm sure you understand."
In his entire life, James had never had to do without. When his father had been alive, he'd been granted a monstrously huge allowance. And then, upon gaining the title, he'd inherited an even more monstrously huge fortune.
Elizabeth tilted her head and gazed out the window, where a soft breeze was ruffling the leaves of Lady Danbury's favorite elm. "Sometimes," she whispered, "I wish…"
"What do you wish?" James asked intently.
She gave her head a little shake. "It doesn't matter. And I really do have to see to Lady Danbury. She'll be arriving at the sitting room any minute now and is sure to need me."
"Elizabeth!" came the loud bellow from across the hall.
"See? Do you see how well I know her?"
James inclined his head respectfully and murmured, "Most impressive."
"ELIZABETH!"
"Heavens above," Elizabeth said, "what can she possibly need?"
"Company," James replied. "That's all she really needs. Company."
"Where is that ridiculous cat when I need it?" She turned and made to leave.
"Elizabeth!" James called out.
She turned back. "Yes?"
"The book." He pointed at the small red volume, still tucked under her arm. "You don't want to take that to the drawing room, do you?"
"Oh! No!" She shoved it into his hands. "Thank you. I'd completely forgotten that I was holding it."
"I'll put it back for you."
"It goes on that shelf over there," she said, pointing across the room. "Sideways. Facedown. You need to make sure you leave it exactly as I say."
He smiled indulgently. "Would you feel better if you put it back yourself?"
She paused, then said, "Yes, actually, I would," and grabbed the book back. James watched as she dashed across the room and carefully placed the book on the proper shelf. She inspected her handiwork for a moment, then tapped it on the bottom, moving it slightly to the left. Twisting her mouth in thought, she regarded it for another moment, then tapped it back to the right.
"I'm certain Lady Danbury won't notice if the book is an inch or so off."
But she ignored him, dashing across the room with only an "I'll have to see you later" in his direction.
James poked his head out the door, watching as she disappeared into Agatha's sitting room. Then he shut the library door, crossed the room, picked up the book, and began to read.
Chapter 9
“You want to do what!"
Elizabeth stood in front of Lady Danbury, her mouth hanging open in surprise.
"I told you, I'm going to take a nap."
"But you never take naps."
Lady Danbury raised a brow. "I took one just two days ago."
"But-but-"
"Close your mouth, Elizabeth. You're beginning to resemble a fish."
"But you have told me," Elizabeth protested, "time and again, that the hallmark of civilization is routine."
Lady D shrugged and made a fussy little chirping sound. "A lady cannot take it upon herself to occasionally change her routine? All routines need periodic readjustment."
Elizabeth managed to shut her mouth, but she still couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"I may take a nap every day," Lady Danbury stated, crossing her arms. "I say, what the devil are you looking for?"
Elizabeth, who had been tossing bewildered glances around the room, replied, "A ventriloquist. These words couldn't possibly be coming from your mouth."
"I assure you they are. I'm finding afternoon naps to be prodigiously refreshing."
"But the one you took the other day-your single previous nap since childhood, I might add-was in the morning."
"Hmmph. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't."
"It was."
"It would have been better in the afternoon."
Elizabeth had no idea how to argue against such illogic, so she just threw up her arms and said, "I'll leave you to your sleep, then."
"Yes. Do that. And shut the door behind you. I'm certain I'll need absolute silence."
"I can't imagine you'd require anything less."
"Sly girl. Where is all this cheek coming from?"
Elizabeth threw her employer a scolding look. "You know very well it comes from you, Lady Danbury."
"Yes, I'm doing a rather good job of molding you, aren't I?"
"God help me," Elizabeth muttered.
"I heard that!"
"I don't suppose there is any chance that your hearing will be the first of your senses to go."
Lady Danbury laughed out loud at that one. "You do know how to entertain an old lady, Elizabeth Hotchkiss. Don't think I don't appreciate that. I do care for you a great deal."
Elizabeth blinked in surprise at Lady D's uncharacteristic show of sentimentality. "Why, thank you."
"I'm not always a complete churl." Lady Danbury regarded the small watch she wore around her neck on a chain. "I believe I'd like to be roused in seventy minutes."
"Seventy minutes?" Where on earth did Lady D come up with these odd numbers?
"An hour really isn't enough, but I'm far too busy to waste an hour and a half. Besides," Lady Danbury added with a sly look, "I like to keep you on your toes."
"Of that," Elizabeth muttered, "I have no doubt."
"Seventy minutes, then. And not a moment sooner."
Elizabeth shook her head in amazement as she walked to the door. Before she exited, though, she turned around and asked, "Are you sure you're feeling well?"
“Every bit as well as a fifty-eight-year-old woman has a right to."
"Which is really quite a blessing," Elizabeth said wryly, "since you're sixty-six."
"Impertinent chit. Get out of here before I dock your wages."
Elizabeth arched her brows. "You wouldn't dare."
Lady Danbury smiled to herself as she watched her companion shut the door behind her. “I am doing a good job," she said to herself, her tone filled with tenderness- and perhaps just a hint of self-congratulation. "She's becoming more like me every day."
Elizabeth let out a long breath and plopped down on a cushioned bench in the hall. What was she supposed to do with herself now? If she'd known that Lady Danbury was going to take to napping on a regular basis, she would have brought along some mending, or perhaps the household accounts. The Lord knew the Hotchkiss finances could always use some shuffling.
Of course there was always HOW TO MARRY A MARQUIS. She'd sworn she wasn't going to look at the blasted book again, but maybe she should just peek in the library to make certain that James hadn't moved it, or turned it over, or ruffled the pages, or-or, well, done anything to it.
No, she told herself firmly, clutching the maroon velvet of the bench seat to keep herself from rising. She was not going to have anything more to do with Mrs. Seeton and her edicts. She was going to sit here, attached to this bench like glue, until she decided how to spend her seventy minutes.