Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (57 page)

He had performed his role as dutiful husband-to-be quite well.

She must respond in kind. Any believable candidate for an Earl's wife would be an accomplished hostess. Acting like a shy country miss or wilting wallflower would not reflect well on Brandon.

Nora rang for the maid and pulled a morning gown of emerald-printed challis with Medici sleeves from the pile of gowns covering the bed. 'Quickly,

we must not keep With-

erspoon and his guests waiting overlong,' Nora said in her best imitation of the lady of the house, which was what the servants expected of her. In their minds, she was to be the Countess.

Fortunately, she'd spent enough time robbing the rich to something of their lifestyle and behaviours. She was not without her own resources when it came to avoiding major mistakes and Brandon had been diligently present behind the scenes, making sure she did not face insurmountable tasks alone.

Nora let

drop the dress over her head and straighten it before sitting down at her vanity to arrange her hair in a hasty but tasteful coiffure.

was a genius with hair, gathering

Nora's heavy curls into a low knot at the base of her neck that at once gave the admirer an impression of maturity and innocence when studying Nora's face.

As Nora fastened on a pair of earrings, a knock sounded at the door. Brandon peered in and smiled. 'Are you ready to go down? When I heard Witherspoon was here, I thought we could receive him together,' he offered politely.

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Nora graciously accepted. Witherspoon was their first visitor-the first of many. Nora knew Brandon wanted to offer guidance and cues so that she could manage well on her own for later visits. No one would expect the Earl to actually be present for the social calls. That was a woman's domain.

There were other reasons she was glad of Brandon's presence by her side. The way Witherspoon had looked at her when she'd descended the stairs the night he and the others brought Brandon home from the dinner party made her nervous, as if he were trying to unravel a great mystery. And, of course, there was the fact that he'd been ready to shoot her the night of the St Johns' dinner party-not that he knew The Cat and Brandon's intended were one and the same. Still, there was something edgy about socialising with someone who wanted to see her dead.

'I don't suppose we can get out of this,' Nora said as they descended the stairs.

'Don't say you're nervous.' Brandon winked. 'I have a plan for avoiding other callers today.'

'What is it?'

'It's called a picnic,' he said in a playful tone of high drama.

'A picnic?' Nora said excitedly, then sobered. 'But it is the middle of winter, Brandon.'

'Did I neglect to say a picnic in the summerhouse? We'll be warm enough, no matter the rain outside. Now, let's dispatch our guests with all due haste.'

'Witherspoon, welcome, it is good to see you.' Brandon shook hands with the tall, blond-haired man, sounding genuinely delighted to receive the visitors. Nora marvelled at Brandon's talent for easy conversation.

Nora stepped forward and let Brandon make the introductions. She saw the ladies seated comfortably on the couch near the fire while Brandon and Witherspoon took the two backed chairs opposite. She probably should ring for tea, but

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she didn't want to encourage Witherspoon to stay. It would take fifteen minutes to get a tea tray together and another twenty to politely partake of it with company. It was difficult to play the gracious hostess when a picnic in the summerhouse with Brandon loomed on the horizon.

Witherspoon must have sensed the need to expedite his visit. He shifted in his seat to directly face Brandon. 'I appreciate being received, my lord. We did not have an appointment.'

Nora watched his face. The man might sound self-effacing as he kowtowed to the Earl, but his eyes told a different story.

She hoped Brandon could see the calculation in them.

'I am always glad to meet if I am at home.' Brandon inclined his head slightly.

'I felt what I have to say cannot wait, considering the state of affairs in Stockport-on-the-Medlock. It has to do with The Cat

Brandon affected a look of cool interest. 'Have you heard something?'

'It is something I noticed during the incident at St John's. I think we may have been

in the wrong direction for The

Cat. I think there is reason to believe The Cat is a woman.'

It took all of Nora's self-control to avoid at Brandon.

Any contact might arouse suspicions.

'Why would you think that, Witherspoon? It's a highly unlikely hypothesis Brandon said in an even tone that conveyed only the tiniest bit of inquisitiveness. For all intents and purposes, he sounded like a bored man forced to listen to ludicrous tales.

Witherspoon swallowed hard. Nora was gratified to see that the Earl's haughty demeanour had disconcerted him. Then, Witherspoon gathered his backbone. 'When the intruder turned to watch you with the bag, the cloak fell away enough to reveal certain, ah, womanly parts.' Witherspoon choked out the last.

Nora couldn't resist the jibe. 'You mean breasts?' she asked

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with an air of innocence. The three guests blanched at the use of such a term in mixed company.

Brandon coughed discreetly. 'I see. We will need more proof, but in the meanwhile it can't hurt to expand our search to encompass both genders. I appreciate your thoughts, spoon.' Brandon rose and held out his hand. 'I
am
sorry to rush our visit, but my betrothed and I have an appointment shortly.'

'Thank you for your time, my lord,' Witherspoon said, rising too. 'And, of course, we want to extend our felicitations on your upcoming nuptials.'

Nora's head was reeling by the time Brandon shut the door behind their guests. 'He knows The Cat is a woman.'

They'd both lost their appetite for a picnic. The allure of the summerhouse faded in the wake of Witherspoon's visit. In silent accord, they drifted into Brandon's study and shut the heavy door behind them.

Nora settled on the sofa, the whole nasty scene with erspoon playing out again in her mind. His revelations spelled disaster for The Cat. 'I think The Cat should rob him blind and force him out. I
am
sure I could "persuade" his wife to apply some more pressure. She'd decamp to London with a little more effort from The Cat.'

Brandon joined her, sternly denouncing her plan. 'Absolutely not. As long as you're here, you're in retirement. Besides, I need Witherspoon's money.'

'You're hard up?' Nora gasped incredulously, thinking of the fortune that had been paid out for a wardrobe full of gowns for occasions she'd never attend. The

was getting danger-

ously expensive.

'You shouldn't have bought all those gowns. I am horrified when I think of the money wasted on them. Did you know I have six gowns specifically for afternoon tea?

never wear

them. It will take me some time, but I will pay you for the clothes,' Nora said with resolve.