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“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 appreciate it if we could work out new arrangements regarding our meals.”
“May I remind you,” Blake said, “that in two weeks Riverdale and I will be launching our attack on Prewitt?”
“Attack?” Caroline exclaimed, clearly horrified.
“Attack, arrest,” James said with a wave of his hand, “it all amounts to the same thing.”
“Whatever the case,” Blake said loudly, trying to regain their attention, “the last thing we need is the presence of my sister.” He turned to Caroline. “I couldn't care less if you spend the next two weeks chained to my washbasin, but—”
“How hospitable of you,” she muttered.
He ignored her. “I'll be damned if Prewitt slips through my fingers due to my sister's misplaced desire to see me married.”
“I don't like the idea of playing a cruel prank on Penelope,” Caroline said, “but I'm sure if the three of us put our heads together we can devise some sort of acceptable plan.”
“I have a feeling that your definition of ‘acceptable’ and mine are vastly different,” Blake commented.
Caroline scowled at him, then turned to James and smiled. “What do you think, James?”
He shrugged, looking more interested in the way Blake was glaring at the both of them than he was in her words.
But that was before they heard someone banging at the door.
They froze.
“Blake! Blake! Who are you talking to?”
Penelope.
Blake started motioning frantically toward the door to the side stairs while James pushed Caroline out. As soon as the door clicked behind her, Blake opened the bathroom door, and, with an utterly bland expression on his face, said, “Yes?”
Penelope peered in, her eyes darting from corner to corner. “What's going on?”
Blake blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Who were you talking to?”
James stepped out from behind a dressing screen. “Me.”
Penelope's lips parted in surprise. “What are you doing here? I didn't realize you were back.”
