Chapter 16

Lady Milthorpe had laid out a casual buffet for luncheon, and people were coming and going as they typically did at breakfast. The Weatherby sisters were just finishing up their repast when the St. James brothers strolled in.

Eleanor was surprised to see them together at all, given the duke’s abhorrently rude behavior toward his brother that morning. But what was even more shocking was that they appeared to be engaged in affable conversation.

Pippa happened to be up at the sideboard selecting a dessert when they approached. Felix, naturally, greeted her warmly. But much to Eleanor’s bafflement, the duke gave Pippa a very cordial half bow and did not show the least sign of displeasure when she and Felix fell into conversation. He stood there filling his plate with roast chicken and cucumber salad with a bemused smile, an expression Eleanor had never imagined he was capable of forming.

He turned and caught her staring. Immediately, his face settled into a ferocious scowl.

Ah—there was the stern duke she knew and despised.

Felix took the seat next to Pippa. The duke took the chair across from his brother, which happened to be next to Lady Francesca FitzSimon. Lady Francesca had been chatting away with Clarissa, the two of them having struck up a friendship while rehearsing their scene from Twelfth Night. But as soon as her ostensible suitor sat down next to her, Lady Francesca stiffened and fell silent.

Naturally, Pippa wanted to spend time with Felix, so her three sisters lingered over their tea. Clarissa attempted to continue her conversation with Lady Francesca, but her formerly loquacious companion was rendered silent in the duke’s presence. Imagine Eleanor’s surprise when the duke, instead, responded to Clarissa’s observation about Twelfth Night!

Eleanor felt slightly panicked as she watched Clarissa embark upon a conversation with the duke. Clarissa could be extremely acerbic, and the duke was clearly no shrinking violet. But they shared an appreciation for the great Shakespearean comedy, and he even chuckled at some of Clarissa’s thinly veiled barbs about Orsino, the duke in the play.

Eleanor peered at them in bafflement. What was going on? The duke was being cordial toward Pippa and even good-humored with Clarissa. Had he decided he liked the Weatherby sisters after all?

He caught Eleanor’s eye and his lip curled in distaste.

Eleanor sighed. It would be her lot to be the one Weatherby sister he despised. The most handsome man she’d ever seen, and he hated the very sight of her.

She spent the next half hour conversing quietly with Kate and doing her best to ignore the hulking duke sitting three seats down.

Then it was time for the performances. Eleanor pulled Pippa aside as they made their way to the ballroom. “Are you nervous?” she whispered.

“Not overly so. I’ll probably forget my lines a time or two, but you’ll cue me.”

“I will,” Eleanor confirmed. They had spent a good hour of the break rehearsing Pippa’s lines, and although she still tripped up occasionally, Eleanor thought she would acquit herself well enough. “You’ll do splendidly, dear.”

Pippa didn’t look overly nervous. “I’m sure I’ll do—oh, dear, what’s that sound?”

Eleanor heard it, too, a plaintive mewling coming from the general vicinity of the makeshift stage.

Pippa gathered up her skirts and started to jog. “It sounds like one of the kittens!”

Felix had apparently heard the sound, too, because he was hurrying in the same direction. “I think we just found Midnight, Jasp,” he called to his brother.

“Did Midnight get out?” Pippa asked.

They had followed the sound to the back of the stage. Eleanor joined her sister and Felix in bending over to peer beneath the platform. She couldn’t see much in the dark space, but a pair of yellow eyes shone back at her.

“The blame lies with me, Miss Philippa,” a deep voice rumbled in her ear. “I failed to latch the door properly.”

Eleanor tried to suppress a shudder as she straightened. Surely enough, the Duke of Norwood was standing just behind her.

“Never mind that, Jasp,” Felix said, peeling off his coat. “I’ll have him out of there in a trice.”

Handing his coat to his brother, Felix got down on his hands and knees. “Here, kitty kitty!” he called, crawling beneath the stage.

Eleanor wasn’t certain if the crowd that gathered to observe Felix’s progress made Midnight nervous, or if he was merely being cantankerous. But the kitten refused to budge from his spot in the very far corner of the stage.

Five minutes later, Felix emerged from beneath the stage sans kitten. “I can’t quite reach him,” he confessed. “He’s wedged himself beneath the very bottom step. I can’t make my shoulders narrow enough to get back there.”

Pippa bent down to inspect the offending step. “I wonder if I could fit.”

“Pippa,” Eleanor hissed, “do not attempt it. If you will but wait a moment, I’m sure Lady Milthorpe will have a petite housemaid who can go in and retrieve him.”

The mewling grew louder. “He sounds distressed!” Pippa cried. Before Eleanor realized her intentions, she gathered her skirts and slipped beneath the stage.

“Pippa!” Eleanor cried to no avail. “What are you—oh, why do I even bother? It’s a cat. A company of cavalry elephants couldn’t drag her away.”

Behind her, she heard the duke give a solitary humph. Had the sound come from anyone else, Eleanor would have described it as a chuckle.

But obviously the Duke of Norwood didn’t find her amusing in any capacity.

Thank goodness so little light penetrated beneath the stage. Crawling belly-down on the floor was not the most elegant position, and Eleanor worried that, had there been a bit more light, Pippa might be exposing a good deal more than her ankle. But Eleanor could scarcely make out her sister, much less any visible undergarments.

After a nerve-wracking two minutes, a triumphant cry came from beneath the stage. “I have him!” Pippa exclaimed, scooting out.

Eleanor was grateful that her sister had the sense to turn around so that her skirts were trailing after her. As Pippa’s head emerged from beneath the stage, Eleanor thought for a moment that she had managed to emerge unscathed.

Then came the sound of fabric rending.

Pippa froze, eyes going wide. Eleanor hastened to kneel beside her. “What is it, dear?” she asked, taking a trembling Midnight from Pippa’s hands.

“It’s the seam connecting my bodice to my skirts,” Pippa whispered. She reached a hand back to feel the damage. “There’s a tear of around five inches.” She tugged at her skirts. “My dress is still snagged on something. I can’t move.”

“I have it,” Kate whispered. Quick as a snake, she slipped beneath the stage.

Eleanor could have cried. Now she had not one, but two sisters crawling around on the floor, one of whom was now rendered indecent.

Kate was more fortunate in her adventure beneath the stage. She managed to unhook Pippa’s skirts swiftly and emerge unscathed. As for the youngest Weatherby sister, Pippa struggled to her feet with pink cheeks, one hand clutching the torn fabric to hold it in place.

Just then, Lady Milthorpe approached, a stack of handwritten programs in her hands. “Are you ready, Pippa dear? You and the duke are leading off the festivities!”

“Oh, dear! I’m afraid I’ve had a bit of a mishap,” Pippa said, gesturing to her torn dress.

Lady Milthorpe’s face fell. “Oh, no.”

“I’m terribly sorry for damaging the gown!” Pippa said quickly. “You were so kind to lend it to me. I feel horrified that this happened, and—”

Lady Milthorpe laid a comforting hand on Pippa’s arm. “It’s not that, dear. The tear is right along the seam. We’ll sew it up and it will be as good as new.”

“Then what is troubling you, my lady?” Eleanor asked.

Lady Milthorpe wrung her stack of programs. “It’s just that I spent the last hour arranging the scenes in the ideal order. We’re short on comedies as it is. Without your scene from The Taming of the Shrew, the balance will be ruined.”

Pippa brightened. “Oh, that’s all right. Eleanor can do it.”

“She can?” Lady Milthorpe asked hopefully as Eleanor blurted, “I can what?”

Pippa waved a hand. “Oh, yes. She was helping me rehearse my lines during the break. She didn’t even need to consult the text. She has the whole thing memorized.”

Lady Milthorpe brightened. “Perfect!” She seized Eleanor’s elbow. “Come, dear. You and the duke will be first to perform.”

“I, er…” Eleanor caught the duke’s eye. His expression was dark as the thunderclouds outside. “I must beg your pardon, my lady. I need to accompany my sister to her room so she can restore her appearance.”

“I can do that,” Kate offered. “I’m not needed for any scenes. Besides, out of the four of us, I’m the best with a needle.”

Eleanor shot Kate an exasperated look. “His Grace and I have never rehearsed the scene together. I fear it would be far inferior in quality to the other performances.”

Lady Milthorpe waved this off. “Oh, that’s all right. We’re all amateurs here.” She herded Eleanor toward the stage. “It will be all the more exciting to see what you two can put together at the spur of the moment!”

Warily, Eleanor looked up at the duke. He looked as if he wanted to strangle her.

Well, Lady Milthorpe was right—that would certainly make for an exciting performance.

Lifting her chin, Eleanor allowed the countess to lead her to her doom.