The Princess & the Pea (25 page)

"My dear boy...." She steered him away from the growing throng of guests to a bench secluded somewhat from direct view and settled herself as comfortably as possible. "It is my understanding—and mind you, Phoebe, Emily and I were at my home most of the day—that this entire affair was dropped in Cece's hands at the last possible minute. Or this morning, at any rate, which is the last moment if one is planning an event quite as extensive as this one." Millicent swept her hand dramatically in the direction of the partygoers. "Why, just look at how many people are in attendance."

"It does appear she invited half the village." Jared said dryly, a suspicious glint in his blue eyes. "Please continue."

"When we arrived here—quite late too. I might add—Cece already had everything under control." Millicent raised her head and sniffed delicately. "Do you smell that?"

Jared dutifully inhaled and widened his eyes in appreciation. "I hadn't noticed it before now, but there is a most delicious aroma in the air. Beef perhaps?"

"Of course it's beef." Millicent said indignantly. "Beef is practically in her blood. I understand she sent to the village butcher for every joint of beef they had available, and a fair number of chickens as well. Then she had—I believe it was stable boys, but it might have been footmen or even undergardeners—"

"Had them what?" Impatience rang in Jared's voice.

"I am getting to that, Jared," Millicent huffed, "all in good time. Now, where was I..."

"Something about stable boys or footmen and beef joints?" Jared said encouragingly.

"If you would stop interrupting, I would be more than happy to conclude. As I was saying ..." She shot him a sharp glare to stifle any interference on his part. He stared expectantly and, mollified, she continued. "At any rate, Cece instructed servants to dig a pit and roast the meat over the fire. It's been cooking all day. Beyond that, she has directed a number of other dishes for tonight's gathering."

Millicent leaned forward, her voice low and private. "I understand the cook was ill."

Jared drew his brows together in a puzzled frown. "How extremely odd. Cook is never ill."

"That's not all I've heard," Millicent said smugly. "Do you see that man over there playing the fiddle?" Jared glanced in the direction she indicated. "And that one near the arbor?" Again Jared's gaze followed her lead. "Do they look at all familiar?"

Jared perused the men briefly and sat up straighter in recognition. "Good God! They're members of the castle staff. Why on earth does Cece have servants entertaining?"

"The musicians who were supposed to play tonight apparently died in some horrible drunken brawl. At least that's the story I heard. Whatever." She waved airily, as if the gesture brushed away any bothersome details. "The point here is that Cece was bright enough to commandeer staff as musicians, come up with a meal for—how many people do you think are here?"

"Quite a few," Jared said wryly.

"Provide sustenance for a significant number of people, decorate the grounds—I thought moving the whole soiree outdoors was a nice touch, don't you?"

"Very nice," Jared surveyed the scene thoughtfully. "What you have not yet explained is how this all ended up in Cece's lap."

"Haven't I?" Millicent frowned. "I did think I explained that part straightaway. Phoebe, Emily and I were at my estate all day, planning her coming out. It is next week, you know? The only ones who could have possibly assisted her at all were that twit, Sofia, and that tart. Linnea DeToulane. They were God knows where, not that they would be of any help in a crisis anyway...."

"My mother?" His dark eyes flashed, but his words were quiet, controlled ... ominous. "Where was my mother through all this?"

"Olivia," Millicent said, her tone innocent, her gaze assessing, "was confined to bed with a sick headache."

"My mother spent the day in bed?" Disbelief underlaid his words.

"That's what I heard. Of course, a great deal of my information comes from my maid, who got it from castle servants." Millicent smiled sweetly and laid one gloved hand on his arm. "I wouldn't worry too much, dear boy; I believe Olivia is quite recovered now. I saw her only a few minutes ago and she appeared the picture of health."

"Bloody hell," Anger flared on his face. "She did this deliberately, no doubt. Another one of her tests."

"Tests?" Millicent probed gently. She didn't want to push the boy too much, but curiosity gnawed at her like a hound with a bone.

"She's submitted every woman I've so much as looked at in the last few months to examinations devised by her Machiavellian mind." Jared clenched his jaw in an obvious effort to control his outrage. My, when angered the boy certainly was deliciously handsome in a wonderfully menacing sort of way. "I warned her it would have to stop."

"I see." Millicent murmured. All at once, Olivia's actions made sense. Millicent was unaware of Olivia's tests of previous bridal candidates. Obviously, none of those had come anywhere near acceptance. Cece, on the other hand, was closing in quickly on the matrimonial prize that included Jared, his title and all that went with it. "That explains quite a lot."

Jared barely acknowledged her presence, apparently speaking more to himself than to her. "She will not get away with it this time."

"You must give your mother some credit, Jared." Millicent chided. "This evening was a difficult trial. And Cece has carried it off with wit and charm. Olivia can have few complaints. I would say, if indeed this was a test, Cece has passed with honors."

Jared nodded, his angry expression fading to one of newfound pride. "She has done a damn fine job." He grinned abruptly. "She'll make an excellent countess, don't you think?"

Millicent beamed. "I do indeed. Now run along and find your future countess and tell her what you think."

Jared turned to go, but Millicent called him back.

"And Jared, I would wait to talk to your mother." Millicent shrugged. "Why on earth spoil such a lovely evening?"

Millicent watched the boy hurry off. His mother was one of her oldest friends, but she'd wager Olivia had met her match this time. It was obvious to anyone with half a mind that Jared was already in love with Cece, and she no doubt returned his affection.

In this battle of wits she'd have to put her money, and her encouragement, behind the Americans. Still, Olivia never was one to give up easily. Millicent was hard pressed to remember when, if ever, her friend had lost any land of skirmish. Millicent vowed to follow the progress of this contest closely. It promised the best entertainment she'd had in years.

She grinned wickedly.

It was indeed a lovely evening.

"... and I can't thank you all enough for your tremendous efforts today." Cece stood in the midst of a brief hall of activity in the kitchen and beamed at her trio of helpers, flanked by assorted other members of the castle staff. "It was quite in the cooperative spirit of the Wild West, Americans could not have done it better."

Murmurs of appreciation rippled through the ranks like waves on the shore. The three kitchen maids blushed with pleasure.

"We couldn't'ave down it without you, miss," Mary said.

Ellen nodded. "You were our inspiration."

"A virtual guidin' spirit as it were, miss," Willomena added.

"Thank you." Cece nodded her gratitude and heaved a sigh of relief "It does appear we shall pull this off, although," she cast them an impish grin. "I doubt any of these guests have ever partaken of chuck-wagon fare."

"Then they're all in for a treat I'd say," Wfllomena said staunchly.

"Somethin they'll not soon be forgetin', I'd wager," Ellen grinned.

"And not be gettin' again anytime soon neither," Mary said smugly. She leaned toward Cece and spoke under her breath. "Beggin' your pardon, miss, but in the stories they call it grub."

"Of course," Cece smiled apologetically. "Silly of me to forget. You're absolutely right. Tonight, in the heart of Britain, we serve chuck-wagon grub. It should be quite delightful."

"There's more than one appetizing item on the menu tonight." Jared stood in the entry to the kitchen, the landing a few stair steps above the main floor. Arms folded across his chest, he leaned lazily against the stone archway.

Cece tossed him an easy smile, then cast a quick glance at the assembled servants, who stared at Jared as if they'd never seen the earl before. No doubt they never had in the kitchen. This was their domain, less than a few steps away physically, but it might well have been a million miles away from Jared's world. With a subtle nod, she sent her troops back to their respective stations and they scurried like tumbleweeds in a desert wind.

She plucked her gloves off the table and stepped toward him. "I'm so glad you've seen something that meets with your approval."

"Everything meets with my approval." His voice rang low and seductive, a vivid reminder of this morning's passionate kiss. His tone shivered up her spine and through her blood. Hunger that had little to do with the evening's meal simmered in his eyes. "You look exquisite."

"Thank you." She favored him with a serene smile designed to hide her relief. Cece had spent far less time than usual at her toilet tonight. Between overseeing the meal, arranging the flowers, directing the staff and a haphazard roundup of anyone on the estate who had ever touched a musical instrument, there was scarcely a moment left to see to her own needs.

She'd decided to wear one of the new Worth gowns, less formal than the others: the striking lemon yellow creation complimented her dark hair and eyes. The admiration reflected in his eyes confirmed what the mirror had told her, and her confidence rose.

He sauntered down the steps and offered his arm with a gallant flourish. "If you are quite through spinning your magic ..." he raised a questioning brow. "You are finished, aren't you?"

She cast a last look around the kitchen. Even though there had not been entertaining of this magnitude at the castle for some years, the staff was trained well enough to overcome the myriad of problems created by the absence of a cook and any advance planning.

"I just hope the magic holds throughout the evening and does not turn out to be a mere illusion." She took his arm and accompanied him up the stairs. "I would so hate for everything to vanish with a snap of someone's fingers."

"Judging by the enchanting scene outside and the savory aroma on the breeze, I suspect your efforts will definitely disappear ... to the culinary satisfaction of all."

They stepped through a servant's exit and into the balmy night. The candlelight flickered like captured fireflies. Ladies in frothy summer gowns bantered with gentlemen in elegant formal attire. The scent of roses flirted with the aroma of roasting beef to tease the senses with a tantalizing suggestion of sweet and savory.

"It does appear to be going well..." She drew her brows together in a worried frown and swept her hand before her to encompass the entire gathering. "Still, I can't help but wonder what their reaction will be. This is definitely not what any of them expect. For one thing, supper will not have the proper number of courses. I had hoped, of course, the uniqueness of the setting and the food would overcome any—"

"The food will be wonderful," Jared said firmly.

"And then they will be called upon to join in afterwards as part of the evening's entertainment, and I'm not entirely—"

"This is the only thing I find truly unexpected about this evening." Jared laughed. "I never imagined the supremely confident Miss Cecily White would be worried about anything as mundane as a mere party."

Cece raised her chin a notch. "I am not worried," she said, a chill in her voice. "I am simply concerned all goes well." She cast him a weak smile. "I've never handled anything like this before. My mother plans all our entertaining."

"Never?"

She shook her head. "Never."

"Extraordinary." Jared stared, admiration coloring his words. "You certainly have done a bang-up job."

"It was definitely a challenge."

"It was possibly a test."

Cece stopped short. "What on earth do you mean by that?"

Jared released an exasperated sigh and gritted his teeth. His eyes darkened with annoyance. "A test. An examination. A little something devised by my meddling, somewhat devious mother to evaluate a future countess."

"She was testing me?" Cece stared in disbelief.

"I don't know for certain." Jared admitted. "It's just a suspicion I have, a very strong suspicion. You see, ever since I began this quest for a wife—"

"You mean an heiress," she said wryly.

"A wife," he said with a pointed glance. She raised her shoulders in a skeptical gesture. He ignored her and continued. "Every female I've shown the least bit of interest in has been put to some sort of test by my mother and found lacking."

"What kind of test?" she said, curious despite herself. "And how many females?"

A rueful smile quirked his lips. "Not many. Heiresses are not especially easy to find."

"Anything achieved too easily is valued too lightly," she said loftily.

"Indeed." He raised a brow in droll agreement.

"About those tests?" she prompted, of the stay at the castle abruptly fitted together into an intriguing picture. It certainly made sense: Lady Olivia's unusual choice of guests, the quarters assigned, the party suddenly thrust upon her shoulders. Still, Marybeth had said nothing about being tested: only that Lady Olivia had decided the American was not good enough for her son. "I knew your mother had standards that were difficult to meet."

Jared stared sharply. "What makes you say that?"

Cece widened her eyes and willed the words back in her mouth. It would not do at all to let Jared know her original purpose for coming to England was to teach the high-and-mighty Earl of Graystone a lesson about the superiority of Americans.

She drew a steadying breath and smiled sweetly. "It's not a farfetched assumption to make, Jared. You are, after all, her only son."

"True." His brow furrowed in thought. "I suppose I should not be too harsh with her, if my theory proves correct. Her intentions were, no doubt, for the best. Still, I did warn her."