Kathryn Caskie (14 page)

At Aunt Viola’s mangled adage, Eliza saw a bud of a smile unfold on Magnus’s lips, which put her more at ease.

“Do ye play, ma’am?” he asked, stepping blindly into her aunt’s well-laid trap.

Sheer happiness lit Aunt Viola’s eyes. “Why, yes, I do. And Letitia sings like a bird, doesn’t she, Eliza?”

“She does indeed,” Eliza said.
A bit… like a crow.

Aunt Letitia did not wait for an invitation to perform, but bowled through Grace and Hawksmoor to reach the mahogany cabinet where she began earnestly flipping through music.

Heaven help them all. With a sigh, Eliza glanced through the glass doors and checked the time on the clock in the passageway. It was going to be a very long night.

When Aunt Letitia began to rifle through the sheet music for the fifth time, Lord Hawksmoor seized with gusto the opportunity to plead an early appointment and was quickly escorted by Grace to the door.

Eliza looked expectantly at Magnus, sure he would follow Hawksmoor’s lead, but she had no such fortune. To her vexation, Magnus seemed perfectly content to remain in the music room. How much more could she endure? Already she’d caught him watching her
three times
as her aunts obliviously played on. Why, he’d made her a nest of frayed nerves.

A moment later, Grace pranced into the room, her hands clasped over her heart. “Have you ever seen such a handsome creature as Lord Hawksmoor?”

Eliza found her lips forming a knowing grin. Grace was smitten with Lord Hawksmoor, just as she had been in the orchard on that day so many years ago.

Aunt Letitia drained her glass completely, then tottered over to Grace and took her hand. “I think we may have found your match, Miss Grace.” She looked to Viola. “Do you agree, Sister?”

“Oh, indeed, I do!” Aunt Viola rose from the bench. “We should discuss our next move at once—in the library.” Her white brows excitedly lifted and fell like goose wings in flight.

Aunt Letitia agreed and rang a diminutive silver bell. When Edgar arrived, she whispered something into his ear causing the the manservant’s wild gray brows to lift higher and higher with each of her hushed words.

"Y-yes, my lady,” Edgar shook his head the second he turned away from her to leave the room.

Aunt Letitia took Grace’s arm and followed Viola to the door, then turned back to Eliza and Magnus. “The three of us will be in the library for a short time before we retire.”

Oh no!
Eliza’d forgotten to hide the rule book again. It was still sitting inside the table drawer, wasn’t it?
Blast.
They were sure to find it. And what if Grace was to discover the text’s true purpose and explain it to their aunts?

Magnus came to his feet, a little too tentatively for Eliza’s taste. “I should take my leave as well.”

Softly, Eliza exhaled.
At last.

“Leave? No, no, no. I shan’t hear of it.” Aunt Letitia shook her head and gestured for him to sit. “Please stay and finish your refreshment, Lord Somerton.”

Eliza snapped her head around and stared in astonishment at her aunt.
“No,
Auntie, the earl is right. It is quite late.”

“No, not another word, Eliza. Please stay Lord Somerton and keep my dear niece company. It is so
seldom
that she has a gentleman caller.”

Magnus grinned at Letitia’s well-aimed jab, but tipped his head and accepted her assignation.

The edges of Aunt Letitia’s painted lips curved upward. “After all, the night is still young for those of fewer years. Good night, Lord Somerton. Lizzy.”

Aunt Viola and Grace bid them good eve as well, and the three left for the library across the passage.

Her aunt’s exit sent Eliza’s pulse pounding. This could not be happening. She could not be left alone … with
him.

Not one minute later, Edgar entered the room carrying a tray weighted with sweet wine, fruit, and sugar biscuits. He dutifully laid out the fruit knives and plates on a crisp bed of linen then set about refilling their glasses. As he turned to leave, he hesitantly handed Eliza a folded slip of stiff paper.

Eliza, who’d been fidgeting with her aunts’ music to avoid Magnus’s watchful eyes, looked up. “What is this?”

“A message from your aunts, Miss.” Edgar bowed slightly then hurriedly crossed to leave the room. When he reached the door, he turned. “I am sorry, Miss Merriweather. Pray, do forgive me.”

Eliza’s momentary confusion shifted to astonishment as Edgar closed the glassed-paned door behind him and turned the key in the lock. “No!” she cried out. “Edgar, you can’t do this.”

The elderly manservant winced and mouthed a short apology once more, then disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

“What the devil?” Magnus leapt to his feet and rushed to the door. He tried to turn the handle. “He’s locked us in.”

Eliza dropped the note on the silver tray and hurried to the door to tug on its brass handle herself. “I can’t believe they did this!”

“They?”
Magnus peered through the glass, looking to see if someone were near enough to help them.

“My aunts,” she hissed. “You do not believe Edgar would do such a thing of his own accord? The ladies bade him to do this, of that I am certain.”

“That note may give us an explanation,” Magnus suggested.

“No doubt.” Furious at her aunts latest maneuver, Eliza stomped back to the table and snatched the note from Edgar’s silver tray and began to read. “Oh,
no.”

“What does it say?” Magnus reached for the note.

Eliza swiped the bit of paper behind her back. “Nothing.”

“’Tis something, else we would not be locked in this room.”

“Oh, very well,
here”
Eliza thrust the paper before him. She bit nervously into her lower lip as he unfolded it. “It is an excerpt from my aunts’ strategy book.” She sank to the bench as Magnus began to read.

Rule Eight

Know him as yourself, and the engagement will never be endangered.

Appearing bewildered, Magnus looked back at her. “What does that mean?”

Eliza fought to swallow the lump that had uncomfortably risen in her throat. “I believe the message means that we are being given time to get know each other more … intimately.”

“Intimately?” Magnus lifted a single brow. “Ye do have two very open-minded aunts, Miss Merriweather.”

Eliza shot a glare at him. Already she could feel hot, itchy blotches erupting across her chest.

One corner of Magnus’s lips lifted. “No need to fret. I gather what ye mean. But I do not understand where this edict from yer aunts is derived.”

Eliza drained her glass, refilled it, and finished a second glass. She nearly dropped the crystal as fire erupted in her throat.

“Bad as all that?” Magnus asked.

Eliza coughed, but nodded furiously. “Worse,” she squeaked.

Magnus crossed the room and sat in the wooden chair opposite her. His warm hands reached out and caught her nervously bouncing knees, stilling them. Steadying her. “It canna be that bad. Come now, explain.”

The sympathetic smile on his face gave her just enough courage to admit all she had neglected to tell him when he agreed to her arrangement. The moment she regained her voice she began. “As I briefly mentioned, my aunts have a strategy book entitled
Rules of Engagement.”

“I am acquainted with it. ‘Tis a well-known military strategy text for war.”

Eliza nodded. “That would be the one.” She widened her eyes and looked at him, then shifted her gaze to the note.

Magnus silently read the message once more. He snapped his head upright. “Well, I’ll be damned if this isna drawn directly from the text.”

“Yes,” Eliza managed.

A surprised laugh erupted from Magnus’s lips. “I have to ask, Eliza, why are yer aunts quoting military strategy text?”

“Well… err … Oh, bother. I do not know where to begin.”

“Eliza, please.” He shook the note before her. “How is this excerpt connected with our being locked in here?”

She slapped her hands atop her thighs. “You must understand something first.” Eliza sucked in a deep breath then expelled the truth of it. “My aunts do not know that
Rules of Engagement
is a strategy text… for war.”

Magnus cinched his brows, but gestured for her to continue.

“They are quite old, a tad addled, and their eyesight is very poor, you see. I believe they can only make out the larger chapter headings and are under the mistaken impression that
Rules of Engagement
is a strategy manual for becoming engaged to be married.”

Magnus cocked his head. “I beg yer pardon.”

Eliza lowered her head and sheepishly looked up at him through her lashes. “They are using the book’s strategies to secure offers for Grace and me before the season ends.”

“Ye are joking with me.”

"Sadly, no.” Her voice was small and meek. “It is all quite true, I’m afraid.”

Magnus remained silent for a long moment, then, to her complete surprise, threw back his head and laughed as she’d never heard him before.

Eliza’s nervousness dissolved and a small giggle tickled her own lips. “I suppose it is rather amusing at that.”

“Quite rich, indeed,” he said, fighting to compose himself.

Eliza listened to his deep, masculine laughter, wondering why she’d not admitted the depth of her aunts’ matchmaking schemes before. He did not seem concerned by it in the least.

When his amusement waned, a gradual mask of confusion slipped over his face. “Eliza, if ye have been aware of their mistake all along, why have ye not explained it to them? Ye could put a stop to their schemes immediately.”

“Because it would break their hearts.” Eliza rose and began to slowly walk a circle around the room. “You see, when they discovered the book in the library, I think they believed their father had purchased it when their mother was ill, to help guide the two of them through their first season. But when their mother later died, their father fell into despair, and the two girls were never afforded a season of their own.”

“So in their naïveté, they’re using the book now to guide ye and Miss Grace.”

“Exactly.” She returned to the bench and sat down. “Through us, I believe they are enjoying the season they never had.”

Magnus exhaled slowly. “So ye and yer sister are going along with their schemes to make them happy.”

“Yes, well—” Eliza twisted uncomfortably. “Grace does not know the true nature of
Rules of Engagement.
She has not opened the book, as I have. And she will not if I can help it. What strife that would cause.”

“Good lord, Eliza! Yer sister is unwittingly using military stratagem to snare a husband?”

“Err … yes.” She lifted her chin. “But I have promised myself, if ever the Rules endanger her reputation … or her chances for an offer, I will inform her immediately.”

“How magnanimous of you.” Magnus leaned back in his chair and began to laugh anew.

Eliza narrowed her eyes at him. “Will you please tell me what you find so amusing?”

“Just the way yer mind works.”

Eliza looked down her nose at Magnus, hardly amused. “Well, my mind cannot seem to configure a way out of this room. Perhaps you will assist me.” Eliza rose and moved to the door. She peered out into the corridor through one of the glass panes and pleaded in full voice. “Do let us out!
Please!”

Silence was her answer.

“Grace and Aunt Letitia must have gone through the far door and retired to their chambers,” she reported to Magnus, who remained comfortably seated. “There’s no sign of them.”

Eliza pounded her fist on the glass and shouted for a few more minutes before accepting defeat and slumping down onto the piano bench. “Viola’s still in the library. I can just see the top of her head, but she must be asleep. And, there’s no waking my aunt once her eyes are closed, believe me.”

“I am not surprised she’s abed.” Magnus flipped open his gold watch and glanced at the dial. “Lady Viola took a fair draft of her …
ehem …
refreshment and it is quite late— or early, I should say.”

“The fault is your own, you must concede,” Eliza said, launching a glare at him. “Why didn’t you depart? You might have taken your leave with Lord Hawksmoor and saved us both this odious fate.”

Magnus cocked a brow. “What, and take the chance Hawksmoor might return? Not bluidy likely.”

Eliza crossed her arms. “Why would Hawksmoor return this eve? You are making little sense.”

With a nod of his head, Magnus gestured to a silver-topped walking stick leaning against the door frame. “That is his stick, is it not? Now he has a reason to return, whenever he chooses. Oldest ploy in a bachelor’s book of games. I saw the dark way he looked at ye. He fancies ye. Mark my words.”

“My lord, you are certainly mistaken. He favored Grace.”

“Only after I took yer hand. Dinna fool yerself, Eliza.”

“Well then, I must thank you for playing my suitor and for alerting me to a potential problem.” Eliza moved to the door and rapped upon it once again. “Though I daresay, Hawksmoor is the least of my worries,” she muttered.

“Now, ye canna be speaking of me …” Magnus grinned at her.

Why couldn’t she manage to keep her lips sealed and her thoughts inside her brain? She had to get out of this room!

“Of course not. I was referring to my aunts.” Hoping to see Magnus had swallowed her lie, Eliza turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. “Your turn now.”

Magnus was leaning back in his chair with his arms propped comfortably behind his head. “Yer pounding and screaming has brought us no closer to release. ‘Tis clear yer aunts will release us when they are ready and not before, no matter how much noise is made.”

Eliza growled, then plopped down before the pianoforte and began to peck out a tune. “I fear, then, we must resign ourselves to the fact that we are locked here together for the night.”

"Aye, it seems we must,” Magnus agreed. “So why don’t ye sit down and talk to me about what happened in the Gardens.”

“Talk? Oh no. I am quite through with that discussion. Care for a game of cards instead?” She nervously glanced up at Magnus’s striking face, and when their eyes met, she felt her belly flip-flop.