"A bit of cheese and bread I brought with me from an inn, why?"
But Caroline was already scrambling into the conveyance. "Where is it?" she asked, poking her head back out.
"Good God, woman, haven't they been feeding you?"
"Not really, and it's been worse for Penelope and Blake, although I have little sympathy for the latter."
James climbed in and pulled a hunk of bread from a satchel on the seat. "What the devil is going on?"
"Mmmble nnn munchke."
"I beg your pardon?"
She swallowed. "I'll tell you in a minute. Have you anything to drink?"
He removed a small flask from his pocket. "Just a spot of brandy, but I don't think that's what you-"
But she'd already grabbed it and taken a gulp. James waited patiently while she coughed, sputtered, and gagged, then said, "I was going to say that I didn't think brandy was precisely what you wanted."
"Nonsense," she said hoarsely. "Any liquid would have done."
He took the flask back, screwed the top on, and said, "Suppose you tell me why the three of you look gaunt and starved. And why the hell is Penelope here? She'll ruin the entire operation."
"Then you got permission from London to go ahead with your plans?"
"I'm not answering a single one of your questions until you answer mine."
She shrugged. "We should pretend to walk, then. I'm afraid this might take a great deal of time."
"Pretend to walk?"
"It certainly isn't going to take us an hour to walk me back to Blake's bathroom."
James's mouth fell open. "What?"
She sighed. "Would you like the long version or the short version?"
"Since it appears I must somehow use up an hour accompanying you to Ravenscroft's bathroom, I'll opt for the long version. It's bound to be more interesting, anyway."
She hopped out of the carriage, clutching the chunk of cheese she'd found with the bread. "You have no idea."
Two hours later, Blake was feeling very irritable.
Downright mean, as a matter of fact. James and Caroline had been gone a long time- much longer than it should have taken for them to go to the bathroom. Blake swore at himself. Even his thoughts were beginning to sound inane. Still, James only needed to be gone an hour to perpetuate the ruse that he'd walked Caroline home. Not that anyone, Caroline included, had any idea just how far away her "home" was supposed to be, but Blake had never taken longer than an hour to pretend to fetch her for tea. He had spent so much time pacing back and forth in his washing room that Penelope undoubtedly thought he had some sort of vile stomach ailment.
Finally as he perched on the edge of the washbasin, he heard laughter and footsteps coming up the side stairs. He hopped down onto the ground, settled his mouth into a grim line, and crossed his arms.
A second later, the door flew open, and Caroline and James practically fell in, both laughing so hard they could hardly stand.
"Where the hell have you been?" Blake demanded.
They looked like they were trying to answer him, but he couldn't understand what they were saying through their laughter.
"And what the devil are you laughing about?"
"Ravenscroft, you've done some truly bizarre things," James gasped, "but this-" He waved his arm at the washing room. "This is without compare."
Blake just scowled at him.
"Although," James said, turning to Caroline, "you've done quite a nice job turning this place into home. The bed is a nice touch."
Caroline looked down at the neat pile of blankets and pillows she'd arranged on the floor. "Thank you. I do my best with what I have to work with." She giggled again.
"Where have you been?" Blake repeated.
"I could do with a few more candles," Caroline said to James.
"Yes, I can see where it would grow quite dark in here," he replied. "That window is abysmally small."
"Where have you BEEN?" Blake roared. Caroline and James looked at him with identically blank expressions.
"Were you talking to us?" James asked. "I'm sorry?" Caroline said at the very same time. "Where," Blake said through clenched teeth, "have you been?"
They looked at each other and shrugged. "I don't know," James said. "Oh, out and about," Caroline added.
"For two hours?"
"I had to fill him in on all of the details," she said.
"After all, you wouldn't want him to say something wrong to Penelope."
"I could have told him all the pertinent facts in under fifteen minutes," Blake grumbled.
"I'm sure you could have done," James replied, "but it wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining."
"Well, Penelope wants to know where you've been," Blake said testily. "She wants to throw a fete in your honor, Riverdale."
"But I thought she was planning on leaving in two days," Caroline said.
"She was," he snapped, "but now that our dear friend James is here she's decided to extend her stay. Says it isn't every day we've a marquis in residence."
"She's married to a bloody earl," James said. "What does she care?"
"She doesn't," Blake replied. "She just wants to marry the lot of us off."
"To whom?"
"Preferably to each other."
"All three of us?" Caroline looked from man to man. "Isn't that illegal?"
James laughed. Blake just shot her the most contemptuous of stares. Then he said, "We've got to get rid of her."
Caroline crossed her arms. "I refuse to do anything mean to your sister. She is a kind and gentile person."
"Ha!" Blake barked. "Gentle, my foot. She is the most determined, interfering woman of my acquaintance, except, perhaps, for you."
Caroline stuck out her tongue.
Blake ignored her. "We need to find a way to get her to go back to London."
"It should be easy to fake a message from her husband," James said.
Blake shook his head. "Not nearly as easy as you'd think. He's in the Caribbean."
Caroline felt a pang of heartsickness. He'd once described her eyes as the color of water in the tropics. It was a memory she'd have to carry with her the rest of her days, as it was becoming increasingly obvious that she wouldn't have the man.
"Well, then," James said, "what about a note from her housekeeper or butler? Something saying the house burned down."
"That is too cruel," Caroline said. "She would be beside herself with worry."
"That's the point," Blake put in. "We want her worried enough to leave."
"Couldn't you allude to a flood?" she asked. "It's ever so much less worrisome than a fire."
"While we're at it," James said, "why not throw in a rodent infestation?"
"Then she'll never leave!" Caroline exclaimed. "Who'd want to go home to a rat?"
"Many women of my acquaintance do," Blake said dryly.
"That's a terrible thing to say!"
"But true," James agreed.
Nobody said anything for a few moments, and then Caroline suggested, "I suppose we could just go on as we have been. It hasn't been so bad here in the bathroom now that Blake has taken to bringing me reading material. Although I would appre ciate it if we could work out new arrangements regarding our meals."