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A golden brow arched, and Cat replied, her voice barely audible, “Why is it you’re always asking me questions to which you already know I don’t know the answer? I’d tell you if I knew.”
“Blast it all, Cat—this is serious,” Harriett hissed, dragging her sister back behind the staircase. “That man is my sworn enemy. For a week he’s gone missing and now the devil turns up here? There has to be a reason, and it cannot be to my benefit. Oh, I wish he had fallen off a cliff! He’s up to no good, I tell you.”
“Well, that’s a bit uncharitable of you, don’t you think? To say nothing of dramatic,” muttered Cat, looking up at the ceiling. “By the by, you never mentioned that the terrible, horrid, awful man was so very handsome.”
Handsome? Harriett eyed her with alarm. “Cat, you cannot possibly—” Her sister’s shoulders shook, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Harriett’s heart began beating again. “I fail to see anything at all amusing about this situation.”
A saucy grin curled her sister’s lips. “You ought to try seeing it from my perspective. Oh, Harriett, just go in! You’ll never find out anything if you don’t. Do you really wish to rely on Papa to tell you the details after the fact?”
Harriett thought about it. Cat was right. Besides, every second the man spent alone with Papa was a second he could be using to cause her grief. Without another word, she turned and marched down the hall, determined to oust the intruder from her turf before he could do her damage—if it was not already too late.
Both men rose as she entered. Mortification flooded her as Manchester’s eyes raked her from the top of her mussed hair to the hem of her wrinkled, sick-spattered gown. In her haste, she’d forgotten her appearance—and smell. At one point during the day a child had vomited into her lap and it had soaked through her apron before she’d managed to rip it off. She’d tried sponging her skirt with warm water, but it hadn’t been terribly effective.
Nevertheless, her nemesis came forward and bowed before her as if she were a queen. “My dear Lady Harriett, what a pleasure it is to see you again.” Without waiting for her to extend it, he took up her hand and kissed the back of it.
The touch seared her flesh, awakening the memory of another kiss and causing her cheeks to heat. She snatched back her hand and dipped a quick curtsy. “Likewise, Your Grace.” Don’t do it, Harriett. Don’t you dare! But she had to know. “I trust you have been well?”
A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I have indeed. Your concern warms my heart, my lady. It is most flattering to learn my presence has been missed.”
Harriett’s temper very nearly blazed out of control. It was obvious now that he’d stayed away quite on purpose just to keep her in suspense! She focused on maintaining a calm appearance. “Yes, well, I was concerned for your health, Your Grace. You see, we’ve had a number of children fall ill this week with a most virulent stomach complaint.” She gestured at her stained skirts. “I thought perhaps you’d been laid low by it. It cheers me to know you have not suffered such a fate.”
She stared at him, daring him to bite back and wishing looks could kill.
“How very kind of you,” he replied, his mouth quivering with what she knew to be suppressed laughter. “I was just telling Dunhaven what a superb asset you’ve been to the Hospital. I came today to thank him personally for so generously permitting you to give of your time.”
Her heart sank. So that was his plan! Since he could not go to the governors, he’d come here to enlist her father’s help. Papa already begrudged her any time spent on anything other than finding a husband. She looked to her father, expecting to see a frown of resolve on his face. Instead, he appeared quite…happy.
Dread formed a lump in the pit of her stomach.
“Manchester tells me you have made great improvements to the place,” said Papa, beaming.
What in the seven hells is going on? “I have merely carried forward William’s plans.” She knew it was low of her to mention William in the hope of reminding Manchester of their near-familial relationship, but she was desperate.
Manchester shook his head. “Nonsense. I have seen William’s original plans, and they are a mere shadow of what you have made into reality. And I speak not only of the facility itself, but of the processes involved in caring for its residents. Your daughter is quite brilliant, Lord Dunhaven. A true credit to you and your house.”
She stared, dumbfounded, as her father’s cheeks grew ruddy.
“Well, I have always thought highly of her, of course,” said Papa. “But then, as her father, I suppose I am a bit biased. Harriett manages everything here, you know. Takes after her mother who, God rest her soul, had quite a head for such things. I’d be lost without her.”
Even as Harriett marveled once more, this time over her father’s compliment, Manchester’s smile broadened. “I can well imagine,” he murmured, his gaze burning into her. Then, a bit louder, “You are a blessed man, indeed, Lord Dunhaven.”
“Quite so, yes. Quite so,” mused her father. He heaved a great sigh. “Still, eventually she will leave me, as all daughters must do.”
Realizing what was going through her father’s mind, Harriett almost laughed. Papa was barking mad if he thought Manchester was interested in marrying her! “You are far too kind, Papa,” she said, fighting to keep from giggling. The compulsion to laugh faded as she caught sight of her enemy’s eyes.
He looked at her as might a hungry wolf.
She swallowed, terrified. Papa didn’t know the truth about him. Not really. He knew about the incident at the funeral, of course, but that had been two years ago and he would be most willing to overlook it if he thought an advantageous match might be in order. Rage swelled in her heart. Manchester was counting on her poor Papa to try and force her to accept him as a suitor! He would pretend to court her and then at the last moment leave her humiliated.
Squelching down her panic, she ran through the short list of options. There was only one thing she could do. “Gentlemen, I would love to stay and talk, but as you can see”—she again gestured down at her skirts—“I am much in need of freshening. Please, do continue your conversation without me. I shall return forthwith dressed in proper dinner attire. I assume you will be joining us for dinner, Your Grace?”
“Of course he is!” boomed her father, openly delighted.
The look on Manchester’s face was worth the price she knew she’d pay later. Triumphant, she sauntered from the room with her head high—and almost died of fright as she turned the corner and nearly ran smack into Cat, who’d been eavesdropping.
Shooing her shameless sister on ahead, Harriett followed her to the stair then shoved past, catching her hand and dragging her along to her room. “Quick!” she hissed the moment the door shut behind them. “Help me get this blasted thing off!” She began struggling with the ribbons and ties on her gown, desperate to shed the offensive garment.
“Here, let me.” Cat brushed Harriett’s trembling hands aside and took over. “So you invited your ‘sworn enemy’ to dinner. That seems rather counterproductive.”
