Perriwick answered the door in record time, winked at her, and said, "It's a delight to see you again, Miss Trent."
"Miss Dent," she hissed.
"Right," he said, saluting her.
"Perriwick! Someone might see."
He looked furtively about. "Right"
Caroline groaned. Perriwick had developed a bit too much of a taste for subterfuge.
The butler cleared his throat and said very loudly, "Allow me to show you to the drawing room, Miss Dent."
"Thank you... er... what did you say your name was?"
He grinned at her approvingly. "It's Perristick, Miss Dent"
This time Caroline couldn't help herself. She smacked him in the shoulder. "This isn't a game," she whispered.
"Of course not." He opened the door to the drawing room, the same one where he'd plied her with feasts while her ankle was mending. "I'll tell Lady Fairwich that you're here."
She shook her head at his enthusiasm and walked over to the window. It looked as if it might rain later that evening, which was just as well to Caroline, seeing as how she'd most likely be stuck in Blake's washing room all night.
"Miss Dent-Caroline! How lovely to see you again."
Caroline turned to see Blake's sister gliding into the room. "Lady Fairwich, you have been too kind to invite me."
"Nonsense, and I believe that yesterday I insisted you call me Penelope."
"Very well... Penelope," Caroline said, then motioned to her surroundings with her hand. "This is a lovely room."
"Yes, isn't the view breathtaking? I am ever jealous of Blake, living out here by the sea. And now I suppose I must be jealous of you as well." She smiled. "Would you care for some tea?"
If food had been sent up to Caroline's erstwhile room, Blake had somehow managed to intercept it, and her stomach had been screaming at her all day. "Yes," she said, "I would adore some tea."
"Excellent." I would ask for biscuits as well, but"-Penelope leaned in as if to tell a secret- "Blake's cook is really dreadful. I think we had better just stick with tea, to be on the safe side."
While Caroline was busy trying to think of a polite way to tell the countess that she would perish from hunger if she didn't let Mrs. Mickle send up some biscuits, Blake entered the room.
"Ah, Miss Dent," he said, "welcome. I trust your drive here was comfortable."
"Indeed it was, Mr. Ravenscroft. Your carriage is exceptionally well-sprung."
He nodded at her distractedly and glanced around the room.
"I say, Blake," Penelope said, "are you looking for something?"
"I was just wondering if perhaps Mrs. Mickle had sent up some tea. And," he added forcefully, "biscuits."
"I was just about to ring for some, although I'm not certain about the biscuits. After last night's meal..."
"Mrs. Mickle makes excellent biscuits," Blake said. "I shall have her send up a double batch."
Caroline sighed in relief.
"I suppose," Penelope conceded. "After all, I did have a lovely breakfast this morning."
"You had breakfast?" Blake and Caroline said in unison.
If Penelope thought it was strange that her guest was questioning her about her eating habits she did not say so, or perhaps she just didn't hear. She shrugged and said, "Yes, it was the oddest thing, actually. I found it on a tray near my room this morning."
"Really?" Caroline said, trying to sound like she was asking just out of polite interest. She'd bet her life that food had been meant for her.
"Well, to be truthful it wasn't exactly near my room. It was actually closer to your room, Blake, except I knew that you were already up and about. I thought the servants must have not wanted to come so close to my door for fear of waking me up."
Blake shot her a look of such disbelief that Penelope was forced to lift her hands in an accommodating gesture and say, "I didn't know what else to think."
"I think that perhaps my breakfast was on that tray, as well," he said.
"Oh. Yes, that would make sense. I thought mere was rather a lot of food there, but I was so hungry after last night's meal, I truly didn't stop to think."
"No harm done," Blake said. Then his stomach proved him a liar by grumbling quite loudly. He winced. "I'll just see to that tea. And... ah... the extra biscuits."
Caroline coughed.
Blake halted in his tracks and turned around. "Miss Dent, are you also hungry?"
She smiled prettily. "Famished. We had a bit of a mishap in our kitchen at home and I have had nothing at all today."
"Oh dear!" Penelope cried out, clasping her hands over Caroline's. "How awful for you. Blake, why don't you see if your cook can prepare something a bit more substantial than biscuits? If you think she's up to it, that is."
Caroline thought she ought to say something polite like, "You shouldn't go to the trouble," but she was terrified that Penelope might actually take her seriously.
"Oh, and Blake!" Penelope called out. He halted in the doorway and turned around slowly, clearly irritated that he'd been detained yet again. "No soup."
He didn't even dignify that with an answer. "My brother can be a bit grumpy," Penelope said, once he'd disappeared from view. "Brothers can," Caroline agreed. "Oh, then you have a brother?" "No," she said wistfully, "but I know people who do."
"Blake really isn't a bad sort," Penelope continued, motioning for Caroline to sit down as she herself did so, "and even I must admit he's quite devilishly handsome."
Caroline's lips parted in surprise. Was Penelope trying to play matchmaker? Oh, dear. How impossibly ironic. "Don't you think?"
Caroline blinked and sat. "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't you think that Blake is handsome?"
"Well, yes, of course. Anyone would."
Penelope frowned, dearly not satisfied with that answer.
Caroline was saved from having to say anything more by a small commotion in the hall. She and Penelope looked up to see Mrs. Mickle in the doorway, joined by a scowling Blake.
"Are you satisfied now?" he grumbled.
Mrs. Mickle looked straight at Caroline before saying, "I just wanted to be sure."
Penelope turned to Caroline and whispered, "My brother has the oddest servants."
The housekeeper scurried away, and Blake said, "She wanted to be certain that we have guests."
Penelope shrugged and said, "Do you see what I mean?"
Blake came back into the drawing room and sat down, saying, "Don't let my appearance put a halt to your conversation."
"Nonsense," Penelope said, "it's only that... hmmm."
"Why don't I like the sound of this?" Blake muttered.
Penelope jumped to her feet. "I have something I simply must show to Caroline. Blake, will you keep her company while I fetch it from my room?"
In a flash, she was gone, and Blake asked, "What was that about?"
"I'm afraid your sister might have taken it into her head to play matchmaker."
"With you?"
"I'm not that bad" she snapped. "Some might even consider me a matrimonial prize."
"I beg your pardon," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to offend. It's just that this must mean she's getting quite desperate."
She gaped at him. "Could you possibly be unaware of how rude that sounded?"