"Don't condescend to me."
"But it's so much fun."
She hurled a chamber pot at him. "You can use this in your own room!"
Blake ducked and then laughed despite himself when the pot broke into pieces against the wall.
"Well, I suppose one can take some comfort in the fact that it wasn't full."
"If it had been full," she hissed, "I would have aimed at your head."
"Caroline, this situation isn't my fault."
"I know, but you don't have to be so bloody jolly about it."
"Now, you're being just a bit unreasonable."
"I don't care." She whipped a bar of soap at him. It stuck against the wall.
"I have every right to be unreasonable."
"Oh?" He ducked as his shaving kit sailed through the air.
She glowered at him. 'For your information, in the past week, I have been, oh let's see, nearly raped, kidnapped, tied to a bedpost, forced to cough my voice into nothingness-"
"That was your own fault."
"Not to mention the fact that I embarked upon a life of crime by breaking and entering into my former home, was nearly trapped by my odious guardian-"
"Don't forget your sprained ankle," he supplied.
"Ooooohhhh! I could kill you!" Another bar of soap flew by his head, grazing his ear.
"Madam, you are certainly doing an able job of trying."
"And now!" she fairly yelled. "And now, as if all of that weren't undignified enough, I am forced to live for a week in a bloody bathroom!"
Put that way, Blake pondered, it was damned funny. He bit his lip, trying to hold back his laughter.
He wasn't successful.
"Stop laughing at me!" she wailed.
"Blake?"
He went utterly sober in under a second. "It's Penelope!" he whispered.
"Blake? What is all that yelling about?"
"Quick!" he hissed, shoving her back toward the side stairwell. "Hide!"
Caroline scurried away, and just in time, too, for Penelope pushed open the door to the washing room just as she closed the one to the stairwell.
"Blake?" Penelope queried for the third time. "What is all the commotion?"
"It was nothing, Penny. I-"
"What happened here?" she screeched.
Blake looked around and gulped. He'd forgotten about the mess on the floor. Chamber pot shards, his shaving kit, a towel or two...
"I... ah..." It seemed to him that it was far easier to lie for the sake of national security than it was to his older sister.
"Is that a bar of soap stuck to the wall?" Penelope asked.
"Um... yes, it appears to be."
She pointed down. "And is this another bar of soap on the floor?"
"Er... yes, I must have been rather clumsy this morning."
"Blake, is there something you're keeping from me?"
"There are quite a few things I keep from you," he said with absolute honesty, trying not to think about Caroline sitting out in the stairwell, presumably laughing her bloody head off at his predicament.
"What's this on the floor?" Penelope bent down and picked up something white. "Why, it's the note I wrote to Miss Dent! What is it doing here?"
"I haven't had a chance to send it yet." Thank God Caroline had forgotten to open it.
"Well, for heaven's sake, don't leave it here on the floor." She narrowed her eyes and looked up at him. "I say, Blake, are you feeling quite the thing?" "Actually, no," he replied, seizing the opportunity she'd offered him. "I've been a touch dizzy for the last hour or so. That's how I knocked over the chamber pot."
She touched his forehead. "You don't have the fever."
'Tm sure if s nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."
"I suppose." Penelope pursed her lips. "But if you're not feeling better by tomorrow I'm summoning a doctor."
"Fine."
'Terhaps you ought to lie down right now."
"Yes," he said, practically pushing her out of the bathroom. "That is an excellent idea."
"Right, then. Here, I'll turn down your sheets."
Blake let out a huge sigh as he shut the bathroom door behind him. He certainly wasn't happy about the latest turn of events; the last thing he wanted was his older sister fussing over him. But it was certainly preferable to her discovering Caroline amid the chamber pot shards and soap slivers.
"Mr. Ravenscroft?"
He looked up. Perriwick was standing in the doorway, balancing a silver tray laden with a veritable feast. Blake started shaking his head frantically, but it was too late. Penelope had already turned around.
"Oh, Perriwick," she said, "what is that?"
"Food," he blurted out, dearly confused by her presence. He glanced around.
Blake frowned. The damned butler was obviously looking for Caroline. Perriwick may have been discreet, but he was damned clumsy when it came to out-and-out subterfuge.
Penelope looked to her brother with questioning eyes. "Are you hungry?"
"Er... yes, I thought to have a bit of an afternoon snack."
She lifted the lid off of one of the platters, revealing an enormous roast ham. "This is quite a snack."
Perriwick's lips stretched into a sickly sweet smile. "We thought to give you something substantial now, since you requested such light fare for supper."
"How thoughtful," Blake growled. He'd bet his front teeth that that ham had originally been intended for supper. Perriwick and Mrs. Mickle were probably planning on sending up all the good food to Caroline and feeding gruel to the "real" occupants of Seacrest Manor. They certainly had made no secret of their disapproval when Blake had informed them of Caroline's new domicile.
Perriwick turned to Penelope as he set the tray down on a table. "If I might be so bold, my lady-"
"Perriwick!" Blake roared. "If I hear the phrase 'if I might be so bold' one more time, as God is my witness, I'm going to toss you into the channel!"
"Oh dear," Penelope said. "Perhaps he does have the fever, after all. Perriwick, what do you think?"
The butler reached for Blake's forehead, only to have his hand nearly bitten off. "Touch me and die," Blake snarled.
"A bit cranky this afternoon, eh?" Perriwick said, grinning.
"I was perfectly fine until you came along."
Penelope said to the butter, "He's been acting rather strangely all afternoon."
Perriwick nodded regally. "Perhaps we ought to leave him be. A bit of rest might be just the thing."
"Very well." Penelope followed the butler to the door. "We shall leave you alone. But if I find out you haven't taken a nap, I'm going to be very angry with you."
"Yes, yes," Blake said hurriedly, trying to usher them out of the room. "I promise I'll rest. Just don't disturb me. I'm a very light sleeper."
Perriwick let out a loud snort that was definitely not in keeping with his usual dignified mien.
Blake shut the door behind them and leaned against the wall with a huge sigh of relief. "Good Christ," he said to himself, "at this rate I'll be a doddering fool before my thirtieth birthday."
"Hmmph," came a voice from the washing room. "I'd say you're well on your way already."
He looked up to see Caroline standing in the doorway, an annoyingly huge grin on her face.
"What do you want?" he bit off.
"Oh, nothing," she said innocently. "I just wanted to tell you that you were right."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"Let's just say I've discovered the humor in our situation."
He growled at her and took a menacing step forward.
But she appeared unintimidated. "I can't really remember the last time I laughed so hard," she said, grabbing the tray of food.
"Caroline, do you value your neck?"
"Yes, I'm rather fond of it. Why?"