“I thought the two of you had agreed to stay at arm’s length.”
“I’m afraid we have lately been a good deal closer than that,” she murmured, a warmth stealing over her on recalling the feelof his muscled limbs and the intriguing bar rum scent of his person.
Marianne stared at her with dawning horror. “Good heavens! You aren’t going to tell me that the other night was no accident and it wasyouwho beaned him with the paving stone?”
“Of course not! I would never stoop to such a cowardly act.”
“Actually that’s right. You would face him square on and hurl it dead at his forehead.”
“I wouldn’t miss, either. But in this case, it really was an … accident.” She began to fiddle with the pen on her desk. “Besides, he is ….” Her words cut off abruptly. “Lamb, I really think it is best if you pay no attention to what is on my mind and go about enjoying your Season.” A fond smile flitted over her lips. “It’s clear you shall have your choice of?—”
The spine of the leatherbound book nearly split in two as it bounced off the floor. “Why, that’s quite the most odious thing you’ve ever said to me in your life!” cried Marianne with some vehemence, springing to her feet and almost toppling the delicate gilt chair into the fire in the process. The shade of crimson mottling her cheeks was a perfect match to the embroidered cherries on the sash of her stylish day gown. In truth, the gown would have looked even more elegant had a good deal of it not been scrunched within two fists.
“That you would tell me to run along and play while you are faced with a difficult problem is outside of enough. I’m eighteen, not eight, and while I’m not as learned as you, I am not entirely lacking in wits.” A pause. “Let me help.”
Augusta’s face was ashen. “You know I didn’t mean it that way,” she said in a shaky voice. “What I meant was, I don’t want to involve you in something that could prove … dangerous in any way. If my reputation suffers, it hardly matters, but I should never forgive myself if I caused any hurt to you.” Her mouth quirked slightly upward. “And neither would Mama.”
Her sister appeared a bit mollified by the explanation, but she continued to pace up and down in front of the hearth. “You needn’t be like everyone else and treat me like a piece of delicate china. I’ll not chip or crack at the slightest knock.” Her eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. “And just what did you mean by ‘dangerous and harmful?’ Now that I think on it, Jamison has been going around with an air of martyrdom that usually means you have done something particularly outrageous. Just what have the two of you been up to?”
Augusta hesitated.
“Out with it. And don’t forget the part about Lord Dunham.”
“Dunham! How did you know about—” She bit her lip at the triumphant gleam in her sister’s eye. “Lord, since when did you learn to extract information in such a devious, underhanded fashion?”
Marianne repressed a smug smile. “Why, since watching you in action. Anyway, it was hardly difficult to guess that something was going on. First you are going at it with him like cats and dogs, then suddenly he is calling on you for afternoon drives, and escorting you for lengthy walks in moonlight gardens. You have to admit, it looks extremely havey-cavey.”
“Maybe he is smitten with my person.”
“Well, I admit that could be a distinct possibility. But what made me suspicious was not his actions, but yours. You actually agreed to go with him.”
A burble of laughter escaped Augusta’s lips. “I shall never underestimate your deductive reasoning again.” A sigh followed. “Very well. I suppose I had better tell you the whole of it.”
The lengthy story was interrupted by more than a few exclamations, accompanied by a flurry of dark looks. “I can’t believe you fobbed me off with that story about a headache,” exclaimed Marianne when it was finished. “I should have known!” She gave her skirts another yank as she turned to facethe desk. “Were you truly not going to tell me about those papers you took?”
“Well …”
“How could you think of concealing their existence from me! You know I was of some help in putting together the list in the first place. Let me see what I can make of them.”
“I can’t.” As her sister’s mouth fell open to protest, she explained, “I gave them to Dunham.”
“Oh.” A speculative look came to Marianne’s cornflower-blue eyes. “I see.”
Augusta gave a slight cough. “Well, he was actually rather helpful in the library. And since the information I need to learn now can be obtained much easier by a gentleman, I suppose I may as well try to make some use of the earl.”
“I see.”
“I mean, he has shown he isn’t put off by a few little knocks and scratches, and it also seems that he is not entirely lacking in sense.”
“I see.”
“Stop saying that,” she muttered while making a show of rearranging the papers on her desk.
Her sister turned to hide the slight smile that crept across her delicate features. “I must say, I am glad that you have finally discovered that a handsome, titled gentlemen may be of some use. He waltzes quite nicely, too.”
Augusta’s face turned not quite as red as the cherries, but close. The muttering under her breath was barely audible, but the sound of the pen snapping in her fingers made a distinct crack. “Does he? I hadn’t noticed.”
It was Marianne’s turn to laugh. “Now don’t fly up in the boughs. I am just teasing you.”
