The Magnificent Masquerade (30 page)

"No!" he
exploded, throwing up his arms in exasperation, perfectly aware of but
completely disregarding all the watching eyes. "Kitty Jessup, if you don't
stop, I'll wring your neck!"

He stormed off ahead of
her, but she would not be deterred. She hurried her step to almost a run and
caught up with him. "There's nothing really worthwhile in life that can be
achieved without risk, isn't that so?" she demanded, trotting alongside
him.

He burst into the
Rotunda. "Birkinshaw," he shouted at the top of his voice, "come
down here! I've brought your damned daughter home! Come and take her off my
hands, I beg you, before I lose what's left of my dignity, my disposition, and
my sanity!"

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Everyone converged on
the Rotunda to give Kitty the noisiest and most enthusiastic greeting she'd
ever received. Her mother cried and laughed, berating her for her "naughty
tricks" while embracing her with unusual affection. Her father clapped her
on the back and called her his "shameful little puss." Alicia, fully
dressed and as rosy-cheeked and healthy as Kitty had ever seen her, kissed both
her cheeks and presented her to her "betrothed," the beaming Dr.
Randolph. And Lady Edith flitted about from one to the other of the assemblage,
attempting to close the clasp of her necklace while urging everyone to go to
the Blue Saloon for refreshments. The last to greet her was Toby Wishart.

"So you're the
chit I was supposed to wed," he said, appraising her with a brazen leer.
"I would have been quite pleased with the prospect a fortnight ago. But,
now, alas ..." He sighed with mock disappointment as he drew her arm
through his and pulled her to the stairs.

"Alas? Why alas?
And where are you taking me, sir?"

"To see someone
who was too shy to greet you before all the others. And alas, because, alas, it
is now too late for us."

"Is it
really?" Kitty asked archly. "Why is that, sir?"

 "She is
why." He pointed to a young woman standing shyly at the foot of the
stairs.

"Miss Jessup, I'd
like you to meet my betrothed and beloved Miss Pratt."

"Emily!"
Kitty exclaimed in astonishment. This was the one bit of news Greg had
neglected to tell her. "Is this true?"  

Emily nodded
wordlessly.

Kitty could see at
once, in the sparkle of those large dark eyes, that Emily Pratt was happier
than she'd ever been. "I'm so glad for you!" she said, choked.
"If you didn't have your arm in that sling, I'd hug you for joy!"

"My shoulder can
stand it," Emily said, laughing in relief as they embraced. "I was a
little fearful that you wouldn't approve," she whispered in Kitty's ear.

Kitty stepped back and
eyed her friend suspiciously. "Approve? Why shouldn't I approve?"

"I think she's
afraid you might still change your mind and wish to marry me," Toby
explained smugly.

"Hah!" Kitty
snorted, slipping an affectionate arm around each of them and starting toward
the Blue Saloon. "Let me assure you, Toby, old fellow, that I never even
liked you. In truth, it's only now that I discover you had the good judgment to
shackle yourself to Emily instead of me that I'm willing to credit you with
some sense."

Later, on instructions
from her mother that she was to change from the hideous bombazine she'd been
wearing to some clothes of her own, Kitty found herself following Naismith down
the hallway to one of the guest bedchambers. The butler was still treating her
as if he'd never seen her before, and Kitty was determined to break through his
reserve.

 "I don't
suppose you've missed me a bit, have you, Mr. Naismith?" she asked,
catching up with him.

He allowed himself to
meet her eye. "It is only the staff that must address me as Mr.
Naismith," he said coldly. "To family and guests, a simple Naismith
will do."

"But some part of
me will always be staff," she said, "so I'm afraid you'll always be
Mr. Naismith to me."

He emitted a tiny sigh.
"As you wish, miss."

"You don't
approve, do you?" she giggled. "I can tell. You're going to turn away
and look to the skies and ask the heavens why you've been saddled with such a
tormenting guest as I. Am I right?"

A tiny twitch showed
itself in a corner of his mouth. "Quite right, miss. Here is your room,
miss. I hope it will be satisfactory."

"Thank you, Mr.
Naismith. It seems to be a great deal more satisfactory than the other one I
occupied in this house." She looked about the room for a moment and then
turned back to the butler, who stood waiting in the doorway to be dismissed.

"Dash it all, Mr.
Naismith, admit it. You do miss me belowstairs, don't you?"

He relented and showed
a real smile. "You were a terrible abigail, miss. Really dreadful. But you
tried. And, to tell the truth, I do miss you. We all do. Will that be all,
miss?"

"I don't suppose I
can convince you to stop calling me miss. Couldn't you call me Kitty?"

He rolled his eyes
heavenward. "Certainly not, miss."

She giggled.
"Well, I suppose that would be going too far. But thank you, Mr. Naismith,
for going as far as you did."

"You're welcome,
miss. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you.
If you'll please send Miss Leacock to me, that will be all that I require."
And with a brazen, triumphant wink, she let him go.

Miss Leacock entered a
few minutes later, shy and very uneasy. "Ye wished to see me, Miss
Jessup?" she asked, a nervous tremor in her voice.

"Yes, I did. I
want to apologize, Miss Leacock, for not keeping my part of the bargain we
made."

"Bargain?"

"You know what I
mean. You told me your secret, but I never told you mine."

The abigail began to
relax. "You needn't apologize, Miss Jessup," she said in a more
normal way. "At least you never revealed my secret to anyone."

"Goodness, you
didn't think I would, did you?"

Miss Leacock smiled.
"I wouldn't have confided in you if I did."

"Thank you for
that. But I am sorry that I wasn't the one to tell you my true identity. I
really owed you that."

"It's all right,
Miss Jessup."

"It's not all
right. I really meant to tell you. I even tried to find you the day I ran off.
But I was afraid someone might see me, so I gave up. But I hope this gift will
in some measure make up for it." She took Miss Leacock's hand and dropped
the strand of pearls her grandmother had given her into the palm.

Miss Leacock gaped down
at the necklace in awe. "Oh, Emily! I mean, Miss Jessup, I couldn't-!
They're too beautiful! There's no need ... I don't deserve-"

"You do deserve
them. You were the only one who stood my friend when I really needed one. You
helped me, and you guided me, and you trusted me. Please take the pearls, Miss Leacock.
It would give me much pleasure if you accepted them."

Miss Leacock, although
sincerely moved, hesitated. "Oh, dear. I don't ... I never ... ! Oh, my!
Oh, I will ... if you really wish me to. It is the most wonderful gift I've
ever in my life received." It took a moment before she was able to look up
from the necklace. "But you know, Miss Jessup," she confided, "I
was not your only friend belowstairs. There were many who liked and respected
you."

"Thank you for
saying that," Kitty sighed, "but they won't feel that way when they
hear that his lordship is sacking Jemmy and Reeves because of me."

"No, you're wrong
there. Lily was telling me all about it when ye sent for me. His lordship
didn't sack Reeves. It seems that Jemmy never gave Reeves any money. He kept
the money you gave him for Reeves all to himself and told Reeves that Miss
Jessup had ordered the carriage. Reeves never knew he'd done anything wrong, so
his lordship saw no reason to sack him. His lordship is always very fair, you
know."

"Is he?"

"Yes. Always.
Everyone says so." She peered at Kitty interestedly. "Don't you
agree?"

Kitty shrugged. "I
suppose so. But Jemmy may not feel that way."

"I wouldn't worry
about Jemmy. None of us'll miss him. Nasty and underhanded, Jemmy was. And with
your twenty guineas in his pocket, he'll be a great deal better off than he
deserves."

"You even know how
much I gave him? Amazing!" Miss Leacock giggled. "There isn't much we
don't know downstairs. There's even a wager among the footmen that you'll be
... but perhaps I shouldn't say..

"No, please. I
love gossip. Tell me."

"Well ... the
wager is-for and against, you know that'll ye'll be marrying his lordship
soon."

Kitty hooted.
"However did they come to wager on a tale like that? More likely the snow
outside will turn to sugar! Take my advice, Miss Leacock, and put your money on
the other side."

Miss Leacock smiled as
she went to the door. "I won't bet against it. Sometimes we see things
clearer downstairs than you up here. Thank you again for the beautiful pearls.
I shall wear them always."

"You're welcome,
Miss Leacock."

At the door, the
abigail hesitated. "Ye know, Miss Jessup, I don't mind if ye call me the
... the name. Only..."

Kitty hugged her.
"I know, Thisbe. Only in private."

Kitty had barely
buttoned up her dress when Mr. Naismith came again to her door with a message
from her father to go down to the drawing room at once. When she entered she
discovered both her parents sitting on a sofa near the fire, facing Toby and
Lord Edgerton who were ensconced on matching easy chairs opposite them. An air
of tension seemed to permeate the room, which was not dissipated even when the
men rose at her entrance.

"Is something
amiss?" she asked.

"I should say
so!" Lord Birkinshaw said with a touch of asperity. "Something's very
amiss, and only you can settle it. Edgerton and I had a bargain. It was made in
all good faith. We shook hands on it. And now I find it has been breached.
Seems to me that something must be done."

"You're making a
fuss over nothing," his wife snapped. "But if you're going to persist
in this, at least let the child sit down."

Toby drew a chair to
the side of the sofa and helped Kitty into it as the other gentlemen took their
seats. "I'd like to know what on earth you expect me to do," Greg
said calmly.

"Forge ahead with
a marriage nobody wants?"

"That's just what
we're here to determine," Birkinshaw said stubbornly. He felt that he'd
somehow been swindled, and he craved satisfaction. "We don't know if
nobody wants it."

"Well, I certainly
don't want it," Lady Birkinshaw muttered. "Never really did."

"I ain't asking
you!" her husband barked.

"And I don't want
it," Toby said promptly, "but I suppose nobody's asking me,
either."

"No, we
ain't," Birkinshaw agreed. "When your brother and I shook hands, your
acceptance was implied. It isn't my fault that you went and entangled yourself
with another female."

"Well, if it comes
to that," Toby pointed out, "I met the other female through your
daughter's machinations. If she'd played by the rules, I might be quite happily
betrothed to her at this moment. Since she chose to substitute another female
for herself, I would say that she herself invalidated the contract."

"Oh, you would,
would you? Well, since you ain't one of the makers of the contract, and since
nobody's hired you as an advocate, your interpretation ain't worth the paper it
ain't written on."

"Let's stop this
brangling," Greg suggested, "and get to the point. Since Toby has
betrothed himself to someone else, a wedding between him and your daughter is
out of the question. The only thing remaining is to determine if your daughter
feels herself injured. If she does, then I as the co-signer, so to speak, of
the contract will have to make some sort of restitution. Agreed,
Birkinshaw?"

"Very well.
Agreed." Birkinshaw turned to Kitty.

"Well, my love,
tell us. Do you feel yourself injured?" Kitty, glancing at Greg, was
struck with an idea. It was one of those wonderful, bubbly ideas that always
set off an explo sion of mischief. "Are you asking," she inquired of
her father, "if I feel myself injured by Lord Edgerton?"

Greg, having become
familiar with certain inflections in her voice, leaned forward and peered at
her suspiciously.

"I suppose,
legally speaking, you can put it that way," her father said importantly.

She sat erect and faced
Greg with a tiny smile. "Then I say yes. Yes, I feel injured by Lord
Edgerton."

"Ha!" her
father chortled, slapping his knee in glee and turning in triumph to his wife.
"What did I tell you?"

"This is
ridiculous!" Toby said in irritation. "She told me in so many words
that she didn't even like me." "No, the girl is right, Toby,"
Greg said. Kitty, watching him closely, immediately recognized the familiar
gleam of amusement flash into his eyes. "She's been deprived of a husband.
She has a right to restitution."

"She certainly
has," Birkinshaw agreed cheerfully. "Now all we have to do is
determine the amount."

"I think that we
should let Kitty do that, don't you?" Greg suggested, fixing his eyes on
her.

Birkinshaw looked
dubious. "Well, I don't know. She's only a child, after all, and can't be
expected to know the value of-"

"Please, Papa, let
me decide. It is my injury, after all."

 "Very well,
then," her father agreed. "But don't be too modest."

"Well, miss,"
Greg prodded, eyes alight, "go ahead and tell us what restitution I should
make. I suspect it will not be modest at all."

Kitty threw a gloating
glance at him. "I think, Papa, that his lordship already knows what I
would like as restitution."

"He does? Well,
Edgerton, what is it?"