The Magnificent Masquerade (28 page)

Lord Edgerton ordered the curricle to be
brought around and ran upstairs to his dressing room to change. Dampier, his
valet, was pulling on his boots when there was a timid tap at his door. Dampier
admitted a very nervous Emily.

 "May I speak to you, my lord?"
she asked shyly.

"Yes, of course," he said, masking
his impatience to be gone. His boots on, he rose from his chair and gave
Dampier a signal to take himself off. "Do sit down, Emily. Is something
amiss?"

"It's about Kitty ... Miss Jessup,"
she said, perching on the edge of the small room's only chair. "When you
find her, my lord, please don't be angry with her. It's all my fault that she's
run off. If I hadn't been so impetuous-I was trying to be like her, you
see-this never would have happened." Edgerton frowned.

"What do you take me for, Emily? Do you think
me some sort of monster? What did you think I'd do to her when I found her?
Strangle her? I may wish to choke the exasperating creature, but I think I can
restrain myself."

 "I'm sorry, my lord," she said
in discomfort. "I didn't wish to offend you. But Kitty is my friend, you
see. I wish only to make you understand her. She really isn't so exasperating.
She's changed a great deal since we first came here. She's become very kind and
thoughtful, and I'm certain that she's only run away because she was worried
about me. About my safety. She knew I don't know very much about horses, and
she probably wanted to protect me. You can't be angry at her for that, can
you?"

"Yes, I can. If she was so worried about
you, why didn't she come to me?"

"To you?" she repeated in surprise.
"Why would you expect her to come to you? You're the head of this
magnificent estate, and much too busy with more important concerns than those
of a housemaid. It isn't as if she was acquainted with you."

 "Is that what she told you? That she
isn't acquainted with me?" he asked curiously.

Emily searched his face wonderingly. "We
didn't speak of you very often. I assumed that your path would not cross that
of a mere abigail. Was I wrong? Is she acquainted with you?"

 "Yes, she is. And she ought to have
known that I would have gone to search for you if she'd asked."

"Oh, I see," Emily said, blinking her
wide eyes in surprise. "You did say that you've known the truth about us
for some time. I have been wondering how you discovered the truth. Was it she
who told you?"

"No. I guessed. She has no idea that I'm
aware of her true identity."

"And yet you say you are acquainted with
her. Is it ... well acquainted?"

Lord Edgerton turned away. "Well
enough."

It was dawning on Emily that there had been a
great deal that Kitty hadn't told her. Could there possibly have been something
between Kitty and this rather formidable gentleman? With Kitty, anything was
possible. Whatever the truth was, it was evident that his lordship did not need
any further explanation of Kitty's behavior from her. She rose from the chair.
"Then there's nothing more I need to say. Thank you, my lord, for
listening to me."

His lordship walked to the room's small window
and stared out at the snow. "Before you go, my dear," he said to her
without looking around, "I wish you'd tell me why Miss Jessup embarked on
this insane masquerade. It couldn't have been a dislike for Toby, for you
evidently began the deception before either of you had laid eyes on him."

"Yes, that's true. It wasn't a dislike of
Toby. It was a dislike of marriage."

He looked around in surprise. "Of
marriage? Any marriage? Why was that?"

"She is very young, you know, and has been
imprisoned in school for years." Emily smiled, remembering Kitty's
declaration of freedom that day in the carriage on the way to Edgerton Park.
"She wanted time to be free, she told me. Free to go to parties and dances
and routs. Free to meet all of London's eligible men ... hundreds of them, she
said ... and break all their hearts. I remember her saying that wedlock was a
fate worse than death."

He did not say anything for a long while. Then
he turned back to gaze out the window again. "That's all I want to
know," he said quietly. "Thank you, Emily."

"You're very welcome, my lord. I hope you find
her safe and well. And very soon."

He continued to watch the falling snow for
several minutes. So, my girl, he said to himself with more bitterness than he'd
believed he felt, you want to meet all the eligibles and break their hearts.
Well, you've certainly made a good beginning!

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

The falling snow had completely covered any
tracks he might have followed, and as the afternoon advanced, the horses found
the going more and more difficult. Darkness fell before Edgerton had even a
glimpse of another carriage. The two lanterns at the side of the curricle threw
only a faint glimmer of light before him, making the search almost impossible.
The road markers were few and far between, and the possibilities of a carriage
wandering off the road were limitless. For a while he took to shouting her name
into the darkness, but the answering silence only chilled his bones. He finally
had to admit to himself that there was little point in continuing the search
tonight. He'd have to find a place to sleep and start out again at daybreak.

He knew of a small inn in the vicinity, and he
pointed his horses in that direction. The snow was, by this time, coming down
so heavily that he could barely see ahead of him. The horses made such slow
progress that he was convinced he'd passed the inn without seeing it, but
suddenly he discerned a faint light ahead. It was indeed the light from the inn
he'd visited once or twice before, called the Fiddle and Bow. The inn yard was
almost deserted, but the light shining from the Fiddle and Bow's large front
window indicated that even tonight a few hardy souls had made their way to the
taproom to warm their innards with home brew. He wished, as he handed the reins
to the ostler, that he could feel some pleasure at having battled the storm and
succeeded in reaching warmth and safety, but his uneasiness at the possible
fate of the missing girl prevented him from experiencing any relief. In truth,
he was terrified for her.

He went in, tossed his beaver on the barrack,
stamped the snow from his boots, and made his way to the taproom. Only three
men sat at the little tables, each one with a mug before him. Weary and
depressed, he sank down at the nearest table and dropped his head upon his
outstretched arms. He didn't remember ever feeling quite this low before. All
sorts of hideous possibilities jostled their way into his imagination. He saw
Kitty huddled in a stalled conveyance, the wind whistling wildly about her
until it slowly froze her to death. He saw her lying sprawled on a snowbank,
her carriage overturned nearby, the snow inexorably covering her beautiful face
and form. He pictured her unhitching her horses from her snowbound vehicle and
leading them with dogged determination across a seemingly endless field, the
tears streaming pathetically from her eyes and freezing on her cheeks.
"Oh, God," he groaned, clenching his fists, "let me find her
alive."

He must have fallen asleep, for the next thing
he knew someone was tapping his shoulder. "Last call," a woman said
tiredly. "We'll be closing soon. May I get you something?"

"What?" he mumbled, too miserable to
raise his head.

"Ale, sir? Last call."

He turned his head to the side and opened an
eye. The barmaid was standing beside his table, holding her tray right at the
level of his eye. Did he want any ale, he wondered? Probably not, for he didn't
believe he had the strength to sit up and drink it. "No, no," he
muttered. "Go 'way and let me be."

 "Are you sure, sir? It's last
call."

His eye, but not his brain, noted that the
barmaid transferred the tray to her other hand. The hand was bandaged. The
bandage looked familiar to his eye, but it took a moment longer for his mind to
recognize it. When it did, the bandaged hand was already moving away with the
body to which it belonged. A shiver shot through him. Was he dreaming? He
lifted his head slowly. The barmaid's back was to him, but it could very well
be ...

"Kitty?" he asked, tensely tentative.

The barmaid seemed to freeze. Then her tray fell
to the floor with a crash, and she whirled around. "Lord Edgerton!"

He jumped to his feet just in time to catch her
as she flew into his arms. "You found me!" she exclaimed. "I
dreamed you'd find me."

"I dreamed I'd find you frozen to death in
the snow," he muttered hoarsely.

He held her tight, not convinced that he wasn't
still dreaming. He could hardly believe that she was safe in his arms. She was
laughing and crying at once, fondling his hair with eager fingers and,
heartless minx that she was, calling him darling and my love. He knew he should
let her go, but he was too tired, too relieved, too foolishly besotted to do
it. But all at once she stiffened and drew away from him.

"What did you say?" she asked,
staring at him aghast.

"Say?" he repeated stupidly.

"When you first recognized me. You called
me Kitty!" That brought him to his senses.

"Did I?" he said, turning back to the
table and seating himself heavily. 

She followed him. "Who told you?" she
demanded angrily.

"No one told me," he said with a
weary sigh. "I guessed it long ago."

"You guessed? Then why did you let me go
on-"

"It amused me, I suppose. I shouldn't
have. In that regard I've been as reprehensible as you."

She sat down opposite him. "I'm not
reprehensible. I did it in defense of my life. I didn't want to marry your
brother."

"Yes," he said drily. "I
know."

"It seemed a good scheme at the
time." She folded her hands on the table and looked down at them guiltily.
"But it hasn't turned out well. I've searched for hours, but I haven't found
Emily."

"You needn't worry about that. She never
left the house."

"Never left? How can that be? I found a
note-"

"She meant to go, but circumstances
prevented it. Your parents' arrival, for one."

She gasped. "Oh, no! So soon? Do they know
all? Are they very angry with me?"

"Not very. They seem to expect such
behavior of you. I'm the one who's very angry."

She cocked her head and peered at him.
"Are you, my lord?"

"Didn't you expect me to be? And you
needn't `my lord' me any longer, now that you're not a housemaid in my employ.
My name is Greg."

She smiled. "Yes, I know. I often call you
Greg in my thoughts. But I really don't see why you should be so angry with me.
I didn't do you any harm."

"That shows how little you know about
it!" He glared at her for a moment and then, noting that she was about to
pursue the subject, held up a restraining hand. "I'm too tired to sit here
bantering with you, ma'am. Can we bespeak two bed rooms in this establishment?
I am desperate for a little sleep."

 "I've already arranged a room for
myself, but I'm certain Mrs. Watson will find a place for you. The very best
bedchamber, undoubtedly, for the Earl of Edgerton."

 "What do you mean, you've arranged
for a room? And, by the way. what are you doing acting as barmaid in this
place?"

"I'm working for my board. You see, after
I'd paid your footman and stableman their bribes, I-"

"Bribes, eh? So that's how you managed it.
Some heads will roll when I get home!"

Kitty looked distressed. "You don't mean
to ... sack them, do you?"

"That is not your concern. You are no
longer one of the belowstairs staff."

"Yes, but ... if they are discharged, it
will be my fault."

"Yes, that's true. Nevertheless, I cannot
have men working for me who can be so easily seduced. But go on with your tale."

She shrugged, put that matter of Jemmy and
Reeves out of her mind, and continued. "Well, I hadn't gone very far when
I realized I'd given away every cent I had in the world. I hadn't left myself a
groat. So when I reached here this afternoon, frozen and penniless, I offered
my services to Mrs. Watson in exchange for a bed." She looked up again
with a mischevious grin. "When she heard I'd been an abigail at the `great
house' with years of experience, she was glad to have me."

He shook his head in reluctant admiration.
"I'll say one thing for you, Kitty Jessup. You are intrepid. Incorrigible,
but intrepid. Nothing seems to defeat you. Your father predicted you'd turn up
safe, and he was right."

Her grin widened. "Then you're not so
terribly angry with me after all, are you?" she asked coyly.

Something in her grin, in her self-satisfied
manner, in her complete disregard of the effect her mischief had had on others,
caused an explosion within him. It was as if this provoking, vexatious,
troublesome creature was actually proud of having cause all this confusion! All
the anger that had been bottled up in him came roiling to the surface.
"Not angry?" he asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "You think
I'm not angry?" He rose to his feet and stood towering over her. "But
of course that's what you think. Who could possibly remain angry with the
so-adorable Kitty Jessup? And, after all, why should I be angry? Everything has
turned out just as you planned, has it not? And no one is very much hurt. Only
your friend, who has a dislocated shoulder and assorted bruises to show for her
loyalty to you. And your parents, who traveled all night through the snow to
find you, only to be mortified by the trick you played on them. And the footman
and stableman, who shall lose their posts because of you. And Naismith, of whom
you made such a fool. And the other servants, who will feel betrayed and who
will never again wish to look you in the eye. To say nothing of me-the first of
the hundreds of eligibles whose hearts you intend to break-who's been driven to
distraction trying to clean up the chaos in your wake!"