“Oh, of course.” He took the box from her and offered his arm. In fact, he was glad to leave the busy shops behind. No telling when one of the owners would recognize him and come out demanding payment on some familial debt.
Not to mention, lately a feeling he remembered well from his time in India had begun to niggle at him again. He felt watched. Followed.
With her footman trailing, they strolled a block or two in silence, and then Ashley Brittany said, without looking at him, “What is your interest in my cousin, if you don’t mind my asking? Is it still to do with this treasure map?”
“We are partners in that venture, yes,” Stephen said carefully.
She nodded. “I only ask because back there, at the bakery, you seemed rather frantic to find her. My understanding is that the treasure has been lost for over fifty years. Surely a few more days will not disturb it.” She gave him a sidelong look, her blue-green eyes full of mischief.
Stephen saw the family resemblance immediately. The cousins might not look alike, but they had the same mischief-making attitude toward life.
He continued to walk with Miss Brittany directing him occasionally, and Stephen thinking how to answer her question. He did not know how much her cousin had told her. Did she know everything and was now pretending not to in order to trap him in a lie? Or did she really think he and Josephine Hale were still just partners?
“Miss Brittany,” he said finally, “I don’t know what Miss Hale has told you, but I need to speak with her. If you could tell me where to find her away from home, I would be much obliged to you.”
“Well, she’s away from home right now,” Miss Brittany said. “In fact, I’m taking you to her. You see, our cousin Cat—Lady Valentine—has just returned from the country with her new husband. We are all at her home.”
Westman’s hopes immediately rose, then sank. He had a passing acquaintance with Lord Valentine. But passing was not enough to warrant a visit to the politically powerful earl: a man who would one day be the Marquess of Ravenscroft and some even said the nation’s prime minister.
“You see, Lady Valentine is planning a huge ball for her husband’s political friends. Of course, she is terrified of balls and social affairs, and so we are helping her.” She pointed to the baker’s box. “I am in charge of the food. That is a cake sample I want the girls to try. It’s absolutely divine.”
Stephen was half listening, his own thoughts racing. If Josephine was going to be working with her cousin on a huge ball for the next few days that would mean she would be unlikely to have any time free to search for the treasure. And, of course, she had the map.
“I may be able to place your name on the guest list,” Miss Brittany said. “You might speak with her there.”
Stephen nodded. “That is very kind of you.” Pausing to give her the box back, he bent and gave her a sweeping bow. “Good afternoon. If you could possibly do me one more favor. Might we keep this conversation between us? Would you mind not mentioning to Miss Hale that we spoke?”
At his suggestion, she pursed her lips and looked past him. “I cannot make any promises, Lord Westman, but I shall try.”
“Good enough.” He bowed. “Good day, madam.”
JOSIE LISTENED WITHOUT interest as her cousins debated the merits of the food arrangement at Catie’s ball. They were in Catie’s bedchamber, the only room not piled floor to ceiling with extra china and linens, and Catie was holding court. They’d been over the location for the ball, the invitations, the guest list, and the cake—thanks to Ashley. Now Catie had drawn a large diagram of the tables she’d have placed in the dining room, and she was attempting to decide where each dish should be placed. She had placed various circles and squares on the tables and wanted the girls to help her label them.
Josie sighed. She didn’t really care if the strawberries were beside the pineapple and where the roast beef fit in. She didn’t know why any of them cared because they would all probably be far too busy to eat anything anyway. Poor Catie was so frazzled and so terrified the ball would not go well that Josie knew one of them would have to be beside her all night.
Catie was deathly afraid of social events. She became short of breath and started to shake whenever she was forced to attend one of the ton functions. She began to feel as though everyone and everything was closing in on her.
Which was why it was such a beautiful statement of her love for Valentine that she was hosting this ball for him. If someone had told Josie a month ago that Catie was poised to be one of Society’s most glittering hostesses, Josie would have laughed. Of course, she would have laughed if anyone had told her Catie would have married her sister Elizabeth’s betrothed.
Catie was the first in their circle, the first in their childhood Spinster’s Club, to break her vow and marry. Not that she’d intended to marry. She had been tricked, and yet, she did not appear at all unhappy with her husband. Well, he obviously frustrated her at times, but that was to be expected. Still, as difficult as Valentine could probably be—and Josie doubted he was that difficult, not as compared to some men, anyway—Catie had a look about her. She had a peace, a glow. She had adamantly denied being in love with her husband, but Josie didn’t believe her for a moment.
Catie was in love, deeply in love.
Josie sighed as Catie started talking about the fish. Watching Catie, with her rosy cheeks and her eyes only for her husband, Josie almost wanted to be in love. Watching Catie, Josie almost wanted to marry. Almost.
It had been the right thing for Catie. Her father was a horrid brute, who would have sold Catie for ten pounds and beat her for less. Josie was glad Catie was away from him and in the arms of a nice man like Valentine.
But Josie herself had no such inducements to marry. Her father was kind, if somewhat negligent, and though he wanted her to marry, he would never trick her into a union nor demand she do her duty. He had two sons. He would have grandchildren.
Her mother was not so kind. She was controlling and bossy, and her punishments were legendary. Once when she’d caught Josie sneaking out of the house at night, she’d made Josie stay in her room and read the entire Bible, cover to cover. Since Josie had only been ten, it had taken her over a month.
Another time Josie had been in trouble, her mother had made her write a twenty-page apology. Another time, she’d forced the twelve-year-old Josie to spend the summer learning to sew rather than playing outside with her brothers. The punishments would have been minor for most of Josie’s peers, but to a girl who thrived on movement and fresh air, they were torture.
And Josie assumed marriage would be as well. Even though Valentine looked wonderful, Josie could not get past the problem that, while she liked Lord Valentine, he was nothing special. He was just a regular man. That was fine for most women Josie knew. It was fine for Catie. That appeared to be what she needed, but Josie would need much, much more to persuade her to marry.
She wanted a man who was unconventional. A man who treated her as an equal. A man who craved adventure like she did. A man who didn’t insist she bear him a child every year and plan his lavish balls. She wanted a man she could confide in.
A man she could laugh with and dance with and make love to.
