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“Oh!” she yelped, jumping a foot. “I didn’t see you.”
He smiled. “I apologize if I gave you a fright.”
She shook her head, her cheeks beginning to turn pink.
James pressed a finger against his mouth to hide a triumphant smile. She was guilty of something. A blush like that didn’t come about for no reason.
“No, no, it’s all right,” she stammered. “I—ah—I really must learn to watch where I’m going.”
“What brings you out this way?” he asked. “It was my impression that most of your duties required your presence in the house.”
“I do. I mean, they do. But actually, I was sent to find you. Lady Danbury would like to speak with you.”
James’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t disbelieve the girl; she was obviously too intelligent to lie about something that could be so easily disproved. But why, then, would she have sneaked into his rooms?
The chit was up to something. And for his aunt’s sake, he had to find out what. He’d had to question women before, and he had always been able to get them to tell him what he needed to know. In fact, his superiors at the War Office had often laughed that he had perfected the art of questioning women.
Women, he’d long since realized, were a somewhat different breed from men. They were basically self-absorbed. All one had to do was ask a woman about herself, and she was likely to spill all of her secrets. There were one or two exceptions to this rule, of course, Lady Danbury for instance being one, but—
“Is something amiss?” Miss Hotchkiss asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You were so silent,” she pointed out, then bit her lip.
“Merely woolgathering,” he lied. “I confess I cannot think of why Lady Danbury should require my presence. I saw her just this morning.”
She opened her mouth, but had no answer. “I do not know,” she finally said. “I have found it best not to question Lady Danbury’s motives. It’s far too taxing on the brain to try to understand how her mind works.”
James chuckled despite himself. He didn’t want to like this girl, but she seemed to approach life with rare grace and humor. And she had certainly figured out the best way to deal with his aunt. Indulge her and do what you liked—it had always worked for him.
He held out his arm, prepared to charm her until she revealed all of her secrets. “Will you accompany me back to the house? Provided, of course, that you have no further business outside?”
“No.”
He raised his brows.
“I mean no, I have no further business.” She smiled weakly. “And yes, I would be happy to accompany you.”
“Excellent,” he said smoothly. “I cannot wait to further our acquaintance.”
Elizabeth let out a long breath as she slid her arm through his. She had botched her last statement, but other than that, she thought she was holding fast to Mrs. Seeton’s rules with admirable diligence. She had even managed to make Mr. Siddons laugh, which had to be in those edicts somewhere. And if it wasn’t, it should have been. Surely men appreciated women who knew how to form a witty turn of phrase.
She wrinkled her brow. Perhaps that fell under the bit about being unique.…
“You look rather serious,” he said.
Elizabeth started. Drat. She had to keep her mind focused on this gentleman. Wasn’t there something in the book about giving gentlemen one’s full attention? That would have to be during the five minutes before one cut off the conversation, of course.
“Almost,” he continued, “as if you’re concentrating a bit too hard on something.”
Elizabeth almost moaned out loud. So much for her charm appearing effortless. She wasn’t precisely certain how it applied to the present situation, but she was fairly sure that one was not supposed to actually appear as if one were following a guidebook.
“Of course,” Mr. Siddons continued, clearly oblivious to her distress, “I have always found serious women to be most intriguing.”
She could do this. She knew she could. She was a Hotchkiss, damn it, and she could do anything she set her mind to. She had to find a husband, but more importantly she first had to learn how to find a husband. And as for Mr. Siddons, well, he was right here, and maybe it was a little heartless to use him as some sort of test case, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do. And she was one desperate woman.
She turned, pasting a brilliant smile
