Chapter 6

Sighing, Hal watched the lithe figure dart back into the house. He’d hoped his infatuation with the French damoiselle would have abated somewhat during this second meeting; however, nothing could have been further from the truth. Traces of the fiery kiss she’d branded him with still lingered on his lips, making his imagination run riot with images of what they might do to him if he could manage to make her his bride.

That would only be possible if he could speak with Gabriella for some length of time. Certainly more time than she could steal away from her employer during a ton event. He must find a way to make Lady Chalgrove allow her maid her half-day off. He’d never heard of a master or mistress withholding that right from any servant. The lady was obviously taking advantage of a French girl who didn’t know what should be expected in an English work contract. He needed to put his head together with Celinda and come up with a plan.

After rescuing his jacket from under the bush and giving it a brief brushing to dislodge the damp leaves that clung to the fine material, he shrugged it on, at once thankful for its warmth. Playing the part of a valet had grave disadvantages. Looking once more like a guest rather than a servant, he strode around to the front of the house.

The brightness of the foyer blinded him after the dark night, and he blinked as he peered around the elegant townhouse. Strains of a lively Scottish air, sung by a sweet soprano voice, wafted through the house. He enjoyed a good musical performance, but he had business to attend to tonight.

A footman approached him. “May I show you to the music room, my lord?”

Hal shook his head and searched his pockets. “Ask Lady Celinda Grantham to meet me in the library, please,” he said, handing over a small white calling card.

“Very good, my lord.” The man disappeared with cat-like stealth.

Hal made for Lord Atherton’s library, keeping an eye peeled for Gabriella, although he doubted she’d be allowed upstairs. Still, he wouldn’t put it past the strongminded woman to take her fate into her own hands once again and try to seek out the duke here. He found the library and sank gratefully into a most comfortable, deep-buttoned leather chair. A quick look around revealed massive bookcases but no convenient decanter or glasses. Lord Atherton must rarely visit this room.

“Why have you summoned me?”

He jumped up at the sound of Celinda’s displeased voice.

She stood just inside the doorway, attired in a delightful green silk frock that complemented her creamy skin to perfection. The sour look on her face, however, would threaten to curdle milk. “Do you know where I was? What I was doing?”

“In the music room? Listening to an exquisite rendition of ‘Loch Lomond,’ if my ears can be believed.” He grinned at her, hoping to dispel this mood, and indicated the seat across from his.

Her eyes narrowed, and he tried to gauge the distance between him and the safe haven behind the brown, high-backed chair.

“I’ll have you know I was sitting next to Lord Finley, eternally grateful he’d chosen to sit beside me rather than any of the other ladies present tonight, including my cousin Kate. She ended up sitting with Lord Haversham, so I know she’s ready to chew nails.” She moved toward him, and he slid behind the chair.

Better safe than sorry.

“I believe Lord Finley was about to ask me to accompany him into the refreshment room at intermission, when your card arrived. Are you trying to ruin my life?”

“No, of course not. But you did promise to help me, and this seemed the best opportunity.”

“Wretch. You couldn’t simply call on me at home, like normal people do?” She hit his arm with her furled fan. “Who knows who’s on Lord Finley’s arm this very moment, staring up into his blue eyes and making him feel like he’s the most wonderful man in the world?”

“Is that what you would have done?” He cocked his head at her. Ladies were infernally hard to understand, so anything he could glean from Celinda about the workings of their minds would be a boon.

“That’s what any woman would do to try to secure a man’s affections.” She flounced over to the chair he’d offered and sank down onto it, her brows lowered, her mouth pouting. “So what is it you wanted to speak to me about that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Something quite important.” Hal stepped swiftly to the door and closed it almost three quarters of the way. “That should preserve your honor and afford us a bit of privacy as well.”

“You think my courtship with Lord Finley isn’t important?” She glared at him. “Good evening, Lord Halford.” She gathered her shawl and pulled it over her shoulders, preparing to rise from the chair.

“I think it is just as important, but not quite as pressing at the moment, as my dilemma.” He returned and put a hand out to stay her. “Why do you and every other person living call me by my title when they are annoyed with me? Can you not muster anger while calling me Hal?”

“I suppose formality is its own form of censure.” Celinda relaxed into the chair and sighed. “So why have you called me here?”

“I discovered something shocking about Lady Chalgrove.”

At once Celinda leaned toward him. “Is it that she uses cosmetics and dyes her hair? Because I’ve heard rumors and I’ve seen her cheeks looking like a Gallica rose in bloom, but—”

“No, I have no knowledge whatsoever of whether her looks are natural or artificial.” Hal rolled his eyes. The inconsequential things ladies thought were important baffled him. “I do know, however, that she does not give her lady’s maid a single day or even half-day off.”

Celinda’s mouth puckered unbecomingly. “You’ve seen Miss D’Aventure again, I assume.” She shook her head. “I have not yet been able to contact Lord Rother to arrange a meeting. I’m sorry, but I’ve been rather busy trying to catch my own husband. That is what I’m supposed to be doing during the Season, not helping you with your amorous pursuits.”

“And I appreciate all your efforts, Celinda. But I have no one else I can turn to. No one else will be willing to help me because they do not understand me as you do.” He smiled, trying to beguile her in his most charming manner. “Anyone else would dismiss my plight as simple lunacy. A marquess masquerading as a valet to pursue a lady’s maid.”

“That, I grant you, is the truth.” She smiled unexpectedly. “You are uncommonly odd, Hal. And rash, as everyone will point out. But I do understand that not everyone is as stodgy as our fathers. I have been known to have my own viewpoint about certain things—like the gentleman I wish to marry—that is not in accord with what others would wish for me. Very well.” She sat up, looking at him expectantly. “What can I do to help?”

“Thank you, my dear.” Hal relaxed at last. He desperately needed Celinda as an ally. “I need you to help me come up with a way to goad lady Chalgrove into letting Gabriella have her Sunday afternoon off. I need to meet her in Hyde Park so I can attempt to ascertain who her father is and what her antecedents might be. If she’s got some type of proper lineage, my father can possibly be persuaded to agree to the marriage.”

Cocking her head, Celinda raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you have any idea that Miss D’Aventure wants to marry you?”

The memory of that last kiss—hot passion erupting every moment her lips touched his—made him shudder and shift in his seat. “I do, my dear. Although I have not proposed, we shared a closeness that tells me her affections are engaged. Something she did not deny.”

“Very well, then.” Celinda furrowed her brows. “What would convince a woman like Lady Chalgrove that she should do something generous, such as let her maid have some time off?”

“Is there a way to make her think it would be to her advantage to do so?” Hal had no idea what that argument might be.

“Well, it might make people think her mean spirited if they knew the poor girl hadn’t had a day off in months.” Celinda looked at him, hopeful. “Social censure might be enough to change her mind.”

“But enough to make her act? And it would take too much time to work.” He needed to talk to Gabriella as soon as possible. What would make Lady Chalgrove insist on Gabriella having her Sunday afternoon free? “What about financial ruin?”

“I think that would be an excellent motivator.” Celinda shook her head. “But how would it ruin her to deny her maid time off?”

A broad smile spread across Hal’s face. “Can you tell a lie convincingly, Celinda?”

His cousin sat up straight, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So convincingly that Mama still doesn’t know who broke the hideous Chinese vase in the library.”

“Excellent.” Hal motioned her closer. “Can you ask your mother if you and she can pay a call on Lady Hamilton and Lady Chalgrove this week?”

Celinda nodded, her smile widening. “And then what?”

“And then you need to find a way to tell the woman this…”