Page 32 of A Stranger’s Gamble

“Surely we can retrace our steps?” Beatrice asked.

“We said that five minutes ago,” Sophie said.

Laughter wafted to them from somewhere to the left.

“Hello!” Sophie called.

The laughter quickly grew fainter, and Sophie had the suspicion that Lady Ella had instructed the others not to aid her. Sophie peered through the bushes to the right and glimpsed another pathway on the other side of what had to be at least ten feet of foliage.

“They must be around here somewhere,” a woman said.

Lady Ella.

So, she had finally come in search of her and Beatrice.

Sophie strained her ears in an effort to discern the direction of Ella’s voice.

“I had no idea you wanted to meet her,” Lady Ella said.

“Seems Lord Monthemer is full of surprises these days,” a man said.

Sophie froze. Lord Monthemer? Here?

“I will go to the left, you take the right,” the man said.

Sophie broke from her stupor. She recognized that voice. Lord Blair. So, his matchmaking didn’t end with informing her father that Lord Monthemer wanted to marry her.

Bootfalls on the gravel walkway approached. They came from up ahead.

“Should I find her first, I will let her know you are looking for her,” Lady Ella said.

“I prefer that you don’t, El,” another man said.

Sophie barely stifled a gasp.

Adam MacAlister? Yes, she would know his voice anywhere. What was he doing here?

Ella laughed. “A little wickedness, Adam?”

“Now off with you, Ella,” Lord Blair said.

The crunch of gravel grew louder.

Oh Lord! Sophie spun to face Beatrice and yanked her close. “The Marquess of Monthemer is headed this way—along with Adam MacAlister and Lord Blair.” Sophie ignored Beatrice’s frown. “You must pretend to be me. Do everything you can to discourage the marquess.”

Beatrice’s eyes widened. “I cannot—”

“Hush,” Sophie said in a harsh whisper. “Mr. MacAlister is with him. He knows me as—well, you. I cannot be discovered.”

Sophie’s thoughts skidded to a halt. Oh dear, would Lord Blair recognize Beatrice? Sophie racked her brain. She had never met Lord Blair, had she?

“Do as I say, Bea.” Before Beatrice could reply, Sophie plunged into the foliage.

“Miss,” Beatrice called.

Sophie fought her way through the thick bushes until she reached what she estimated to be about five of the ten feet width of the bushes, then halted, heart thundering in her ears.

“Oh, how do you do, sir—er, I mean, my lord,” Beatrice said.