Page 10 of A Mistletoe Masquerade

Lucas nodded abruptly.

'You said one of her lovers-there were others?'

'Yes.' He leaned forward and began to make up the fire with bigger pieces of wood.

He spoke definitely, like a man who knew from his own knowledge, not from hearsay. The suspicion that Lucas was more than a recently employed valet began to stir.

'Then what made her do it?'

He turn

ed and looked at her, one eyebrow raised in sardonic enquiry.

'Oh, I know what she wanted-but why was she not content with her husband? I've heard that she was light-hearted and gay before the marriage and that she changed afterwards.'

'She changed when she was not allowed free rein for her every whim and passion,' Lucas said grimly, as he rocked back on his heels and stood up. 'Danescroft expected fidelity and decorum from his countess-quite unreasonably, in her opinion.'

'So you do know something about this?' Daisy tipped back her head and looked up at him, standing tall and still on the hearthrug, his face unsettlingly underlit by the flames. 'Who are you, really, Lucas?'

'His valet.'

He turned and walked away from her so that his face was in shadow. She could not decide whether that was deliberate.

'I observed them both at the time of the marriage and I had heard things about her character.'

'So you must approve of your master seeking a new wife? One who will behave as befits a countess?'

'I approve of him marrying again, yes. But not to that ninny-hammer of a mistress of yours, with her vulgarian of a stepmother.'

Rowan scrambled to her feet with more energy than grace. 'Well, I do approve of her getting married-but not to some top-lofty, miserable recluse with a cloud hanging over him!'

'Danescroft is not top-lofty and miserable-' Lucas began, then broke off, regarding her speculatively. 'But we are agreed upon something; it is a highly undesirable match from both sides. Does she want to marry him?'

'No, she is frightened of him-and in any case, she has no ambition for high position.' Rowan bit her lower lip and regarded her unlikely ally. 'Nor talent for it, come to that. But he wants to marry her?'

'He thinks he should marry, and Miss Maylin has been recommended by his grandmother. He needs a mother for his daughter. I don't know that want is the right word.'

'What would prevent him proposing?' She had thought those dark blue eyes impertinent, alarming and intelligent by turns: now Rowan realised just how much humour they revealed as their owner narrowed them at her and grinned.

'Why, Miss Daisy, you are not suggesting meddling in the affairs of our betters, are you?'

'Yes,' she declared roundly. 'Yes, I am. And do not try and look surprised, Mr Lucas, it is exactly what you are thinking, too.'

'In that case we had better do a little plotting.' He sat down on the edge of the narrow bed and patted the coverlet beside him.

'You are sitting on my bed,' Rowan protested.

'You didn't want to go to sleep yet, did you?'

'No, and certainly not with you in the room. Get up. It is most improper.'

'Anyone would think you were expecting a chaperon to burst into the room,' he said, his eyes laughing at her again. 'You really have not been out in the world very long, have you?'

'Long enough,' Rowan observed grimly. 'Out.'

'What about our little conspiracy?' He got to his feet, all long-limbed elegance.

Rowan controlled her breathing as her singing teacher had taught her, went to the door and held it open.

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