Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

ANNE

T hat evening, I could still smell the port on Lord Kirkham’s breath when I closed my bedchamber door behind me. I set down my candle, collapsing on my bed with a groan. He hadn’t left my side. He had been sitting far too close to me on the sofa, and his leg had been pressed against mine all night. Each time I moved away, he moved closer. When Octavia finished her fourth singing performance of the night, I retired for the evening, no longer caring what Lady Tottenham thought of my decision to leave the drawing room festivities before anyone else.

Octavia had been just as attached to Alexander all day as Lord Kirkham had been to me. There were few things more entertaining than watching his failed attempts at avoiding her. During each of Octavia’s performances, she had stared at Alexander’s face through every word of the songs. His discomfort was what had made the evening bearable.

I smiled to myself. Now that it was all over, I was eager to escape my tight stays. I had only been filling my lungs halfway all night.

My gaze caught on a piece of parchment that had been tied around my bedpost with a thin pink ribbon. My heart pounded. I rolled over on my bed and cautiously tugged one end of the ribbon, releasing the parchment. Was it another note or invitation? I read the short message.

Love is blind, and lovers cannot see

The pretty follies that themselves commit

Open your eyes and see straight through

Find the heart meant for you.

“What on earth?” I muttered. Who had sneaked into my room and tied that to my bed? I hurried to the door to slide the lock into place before returning to the note.

I recognized the first two lines from Shakespeare’s The Merchant in Venice, but the other two seemed to have been added on. What reason could someone have to tie that message to my bed? Was the person still here, lurking in a dark corner of the room?

I picked up the candle and cast it toward each wall. Whoever had put the note in my room must have done it while I was at dinner. The hour was now past eleven o’clock, and the noise from the drawing room had died down. The guests would all be retiring for the evening soon, which meant a number of us would be invited to a midnight parlor game. I had managed to avoid the game the night before. Was this hidden message part of the game for tonight?

I pinched the parchment between two fingers, setting it on the table beside my bed. I tucked my knees to my chest, resting my back against the headboard. My mind was tired from the events of the day, and the worries that came with them.

Lady Tottenham had been watching me.

Ever since she had seen Alexander and me together between the doors, she had taken a special interest in observing my behavior. I felt her gaze on me almost constantly, and when it wasn’t, she watched Alexander. I hadn’t had a chance to speak with him since that morning. Between deterring Lord Kirkham and Octavia, we were always occupied.

The night before, I had started a sheet to mark off the days until the house party was over. So far, I only had three marks. There were still weeks to go. If my only purpose was to deter Lord Kirkham, I would lose my mind before the party was through. I needed to commit myself to another purpose in order to pass the time. My mind wandered to that morning when I had noticed yet another gentleman caller at an early morning meeting with Lady Tottenham. It hadn’t been the same man as before, though they both wore spectacles. Lady Tottenham had offered no introduction to Alexander or to me as the man had walked by. It was certainly peculiar.

Solving that mystery could be a goal of mine. There was also the matter of the overarching ‘game,’ and the mysterious prize Lady Tottenham continued to refer to. My gaze slid to the message on the table. I read the cryptic note again, eyes narrowed in thought.

“Love is blind, and lovers cannot see…” I mumbled to myself. “Open your eyes, see straight through.”

I sat up straight, my legs shooting out in front of me. The blindfold? Was this message a clue of some sort? Perhaps it had been tied to my bed since the day before and I hadn’t noticed. I flopped to the other side of my bed to reach the writing desk. I searched the drawer for the invitation I had received to the first midnight parlor game. The writing looked the same. Both notes were written in Lady Tottenham’s hand.

She seemed to have given me a clue—further invitation to participate in her game. Had everyone received the same clue? Or had she singled me out?

The questions raced through my mind as I sat on my bed. I debated tugging the bell-pull, but I wanted to wait until after midnight. Nothing sounded worse than freeing myself from my uncomfortable dress only to put it back on again.

The minutes rolled by, and the house fell silent. Occasional footsteps in the corridor caught my attention, but I excused them for the servants. I closed my eyes, drifting off for a moment, until a rustling sound caught my attention.

I sat up, catching sight of the letter just as it skittered under my door.

I leaped off the bed and snatched it up from the floor.

Lady Daventry,

You are invited to the parlor at midnight for a special game. You will not be permitted to leave until the game is complete.

Your benevolent hostess,

Lady Tottenham

My heart picked up speed. I folded the note and placed it in the pile on my writing desk. I wouldn’t be permitted to leave until the game was complete? Would I want to? A surge of dread came through my chest. If it was the same group as last time, that would mean that Lord Kirkham would be there again.

I watched the clock on the wall approach twelve. Since I had been late the first night, I didn’t want to be late again. I opened my bedchamber door, sneaking out into the dark corridor. Would the other guests be emerging from their rooms at the same time? I glanced in all directions, noting candlelight under a few of the doors, but darkness under the others. I passed Alexander’s door. Light seeped out from beneath it.

With one hand on the bannister, I hurried down the staircase and made my way to the parlor. A footman stood at attention, his white wig and the whites of his eyes glowing in the dimness. He opened the door, ushering me inside.

The room was flooded with soft candlelight. The furniture had been rearranged. I glanced around in confusion as my eyes adjusted to my new surroundings. At the center of the room, a small card table was covered with a tray of food and tea, a vase of red roses, and a chess board. Two chairs sat across from one another, the chess board between them.

I walked forward with cautious steps, catching my reflection in the silver cream pot. My pale green dress was distorted, my face elongated. The silence of the room was unsettling. A sudden chill raised bumps on my arms. I wrapped them around myself, studying the assortment of food on the tray. Tiny tartlets, rectangular cakes, and savory offerings were stacked on a platter. Steam escaped the tea pot, dancing upward until it disappeared. A few rose petals had been scattered around the chess board.

I had expected to find Lady Tottenham in attendance, but the room was empty. My thoughts wandered back to the riddle that I had found tied to my bed post. I shot a glance at the closed door before rushing over to the sideboard where I had found the bowl of forfeits.

“Found you,” I whispered as I swiped up the blindfold from the day before. I examined both sides of it before holding it up in front of my eyes. I gasped.

There was a note inside the folds of the fabric. It hadn’t been there before, I was sure of it. A few of the words came into focus, but the message was too close to my eyes to read the entire thing. I hurried to unfold it, keeping one eye on the door. No one else had arrived, so I pulled out the slip of parchment and read the words.

If you wish to pass the test

You must stand out from all the rest

Take part in my peculiar feast

And eat no less than twenty-three

I folded the note and slipped it down the bodice of my gown, replacing the blindfold where I had found it. Had she written that clue just for me? Or had others received the same clue tied to their bed posts? I hadn’t the slightest idea, but preventing other people from finding it must have been part of the game. If it was a race, I would have to be the fastest at solving the riddles.

I eyed the tray of small desserts and savories. Was that the ‘peculiar feast?’ I swallowed hard. My stomach was still full from dinner. Was I being tested to see if I could eat twenty-three of the items on the table? That was ridiculous.

I jumped when the parlor door opened, my heart leaping to my throat.

Alexander stood in the doorway. His dark gaze captured mine, a small smile lifting his lips. He gave a slight bow. “Anne.”

I returned the gesture. “Alexander.” My heart picked up speed, but I shushed it. He made me nervous, and I didn’t like it one bit. I couldn’t tell if his flirtations were genuine or made in an attempt to tease me. Either way, it was unacceptable.

His sly smile remained as he strode farther into the room. He wore the same clothes he had worn at dinner—a gold waistcoat, black jacket, and white cravat. The cravat was a little looser than it had been before. He rubbed his jaw as he studied the room in confusion just as I had.

Where was everyone else?

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the footman closed the door behind Alexander. We both glanced back when we heard a clicking sound.

Alexander frowned, testing the door knob. His eyes widened. “He locked us in.”