“Humph, I thought so.”
Lord Harrison stepped forward and bowed to Grace. “I don’t believe you have had a chance to tell us your name, my dear?”
“Oh, hello, it is very nice to meet you. I’m Grace Lancaster.” She grasped his outstretched hand and shook it before turning her attention back to the chandeliers.
“Of the Lancasters?” all three of them asked at the same time and she felt her skin prickle across her back as three sets of eyes focused on her.
Grace tore her attention from the chandelier long enough to answer. “I guess so. I do have some relatives in England, but I’ve never met them.” Her great-grandfather had gone over to America sometime in the last century, but she couldn’t remember when.
“And you’re an American?”
“Born and raised.”
Grace missed the look Jasper and his sister exchanged.
This might prove interesting. Old Lancaster was here tonight. Jasper needed to get this sorted out before the head of the Lancasters found out one of his relatives had been found in the arms of his business rival, if he hadn’t already. They each owned shares in opposing banking institutions; at the moment Lord Lancaster’s bank was having better returns but Jasper hoped to turn that around by the end of this financial year.
“Jasper.” Victoria motioned him to join her over by the mantelpiece next to Neal. “Something’s not right here.”
Neal nodded. “With whom did she come to the ball? You say her family’s dead?” Neal looked Jasper straight in the eye and Jasper was once again reminded how successful his brother-in-law was on the continent.
Shaking off Neal’s gaze, Jasper nodded. “Still, she wouldn’t be here by herself, would she? You’re right, Victoria, something’s not adding up.”
Miss Lancaster was still looking at the lights with a puzzled frown on her face. Had she never seen a chandelier before? Good God, she was a fortune-hunter. You would think she would’ve gone to Lancaster himself if she needed money, but if she was of the American line…? How on earth had he got himself into this mess?
“I suppose I should bring Ol’ Lancaster into this conversation? I saw him here earlier tonight.”
“I saw him leave a while ago.” Victoria laid her hand on his arm before he could turn towards the door. “The Duchess said his knee was bothering him again. She indicated he was traveling to his country estate in the morning so if you think we should discuss this with him, we should go to his townhouse now. But he may have retired for the night already.” Victoria removed her hand from his arm and put it to her forehead. “Oh, this gossip is going to run for months. A Lancaster, Jasper? Couldn’t you have been bewitched by anyone else?”
“Too late for that, Victoria, what’s done is done. But you will have to find her chaperone, Jasper.” Neal turned towards the lady in question and raised his voice. “Miss Lancaster, with whom did you arrive this evening?”
“Hmmm?” She relinquished her inspection of the lighting, and turned towards them. “Oh, I came this afternoon with the rest of the crew. Long before any guests arrived. Speaking of which, I do need to get back to work.” She walked towards them and stuck out her hand. “It was lovely to meet you all, do be sure to enjoy the rest of your evening.” She had plastered a perfect smile on her face, as though she was used to pacifying difficult guests.
Her hand stayed outstretched for a moment too long before Neal stepped forward to claim it. Something clenched in Jasper’s stomach as Neal brought her hand to his lips. Miss Lancaster’s face coloured and Jasper wondered if she always blushed so easily.
Neal didn’t release her hand, but used it to lead her to the settee. Jasper bristled when Neal took the seat next to her. He left his sister to look after herself and made his way over to them and sat in the chair nearest Miss Lancaster.
He should’ve known better.
Victoria cleared her throat and raised her eyebrow at him.
Damn. He extricated himself from his seat and gallantly offered it to Victoria. By the time he had fetched another chair from the other side of the room, the conversation was well on its way again.
“…escort? No, I didn’t pay anyone to come with me, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell anyway.” Her laughter filled the room. The musical sound shot straight to Jasper’s groin and in that moment he decided he would do anything to make her laugh again.
She opened her reticule and after a moment of intense searching she pulled a small, smooth metal case from its depths. She opened the case and handed them each a piece of paper. Jasper looked at the card in his hand.
A calling card.
Sinclair Functions Ltd.
Parties with a difference
Senior Party Planner
Grace Lancaster
(212) 527-8636
[email protected]
www.sinclairfunctions.com
“You plan parties?” Victoria asked after a moment.
“Yes. But not just parties. We plan weddings, balls, like this one, conferences, birthday parties, engagement parties, expos, anniversaries, you name it, we can organise anything you like.”
“I’ve never heard of a ‘party planner’ before.”
“You haven’t? That’s weird. Surely you’ve watched The Wedding Planner?”
“Miss Lancaster, who exactly did you come with tonight?” Neal was obviously tired of this absolutely bizarre conversation. “I need a name.”
“Well, my boss is here. Ron Sinclair. You can ask him. You can even ask the Duchess of Kensington if you like. She’s the one who hired us for this function.” The tone of her voice changed. She was also getting tired of the conversation. “I really need to be going now. I thank you for your time and your help with my wardrobe malfunction, Mr…? Sorry I didn’t catch your name.” Her eyes bore into his and Jasper’s stomach clenched again and something lower stirred back to life.
“Jasper. You can call me Jasper.” Somewhere far away he heard Victoria gasp and say his name.
“Well. Thank you. But I need to go. Have a wonderful night.” She rose and headed to the door.
“Wait.” Jasper jumped to his feet; she couldn’t just walk away from him. “I need to know. Why me? Why did you single me out?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Why did you take me into the alcove tonight? Was it for my money? Or was it revenge?”
“Revenge? I don’t think so. I don’t even know who you are. Look, this has been a slice, but I really need to get back out there.”
That couldn’t be right. Surely she knew who he was? “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Lancaster, allow me to properly introduce myself. I’m Jasper Vincent Colin Mossman, Earl of Bingham. But I’m sure you knew that when you singled me out.”
Seriously? What was wrong with these people? Had they all had a turn or did madness run in their family? Whatever it was, it was seriously freaking her out! Why were they so desperate to meet who she came with? They were behaving as though she’d committed a heinous crime. Granted, Ron wouldn’t be too impressed she’d kissed one of the guests, but did he really need to know? The way these people were behaving, she’d be lucky to get off lightly. She might as well kiss her dream of living in Paris goodbye.
God, her head hurt. She must’ve hit it harder than she thought. When would this night be over? All she wanted to do was curl up in her hotel bed and sleep for a week. But she couldn’t do that. Not yet. Not until this blasted party was over. Ron didn’t expect it to wind down until at least sunrise.
God, this was so embarrassing. If she knew she’d be involved in an interrogation, she wouldn’t have led him into the alcove. No kiss was worth this…no matter how good it was. She could feel her face redden at the memory.
But what she really wanted to know was what was up with those lights? She examined the chandelier again. Maybe if she stood on a chair she could get a better look. She glanced at the trio of weirdos and thought better of it. They’d probably call the cops on her. How did candles end u
p in those chandeliers? It created a certain ambience, she would give it that, but who would have replaced the real lights with candles? Especially without her knowing? Maybe it was an optical illusion; lights designed to look like candles. Now why hadn’t she thought of that? She made a mental note to find them for her next event.
Now that she’d sorted that out she could bring her mind to the task at hand. She needed to finish this conversation so she could get back to work. This had taken up far too much of her time, and there was still so much to do before the end of the night. What was it ‘Jasper’ was going on about now?
“Sorry, what was that?” She hated to ask.
“I asked why you chose me as your target tonight.”
Grace looked at the man she had jumped, practically raped even. His clothes moulded to his body, showing off his muscular chest and broad shoulders. Her eyes travelled down over his trim waist to his tight pants. They didn’t leave much to the imagination. She knew her face would be the colour of her favourite underwear, she always blushed so profusely. God, this conversation was not happening. She was going to have to tell him the truth and in front of his sister too. He just wouldn’t let it go, would he? If at all possible her face got even redder.
“Well, you see, the thing is, I haven’t had a relationship for a long time and I seem to have had too much to drink tonight. I couldn’t stop myself, you were just too good-looking and you rescued me from that awful crowd. Besides, it is just this once and if I wasn’t in a foreign country I would never have dared do what I, we, did, but I will never see you again, so I thought it would be safe. I actually can’t see what all the fuss is about. It was only a kiss.” She stopped abruptly. She tended to babble when she got nervous; it was a habit she found hard to break.
“A kiss that the biggest gossip in all of England just happened to see!” He ran his hands through his hair. His head must hurt from pulling his hair so much. “We’ll have to be married. There’s no other way to avoid a scandal.”
Grace finally really looked into the three pairs of eyes boring into her. “What kind of party is this?”
Chapter Three
The girl was a sure candidate for Bedlam.
Or a good actress. Watching her one would think she was surprised, outraged even, at the consequences of being caught by Mrs Barrett. That’s what worried him most. The fact that she might not be acting. Because if that was the case, he’d be stuck marrying a mad woman. He should have picked Lady Anne after all. At least she never cried or tried to run away from him. This girl was currently trying to break past Neal to get to the door. Hell fire, she could scrap. Another worrying thought. He definitely wasn’t envious of Neal as he dodged her flying fists. She looked as though she knew what she was doing. Jasper winced in sympathy as she connected a right to Neal’s eye.
Who was she? He certainly didn’t believe she had planned this ball.
Enough of this. “I’m going to get the Duchess.” It was past time she was brought into this.
Once he was out of the library he did his best at smoothing the scowl from his face, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was because by the time he found the Duchess of Kensington men and ladies alike were making way for him as though he was Moses and they were the Red Sea.
The Duchess of Kensington pursed her lips at his request to accompany him. She must have heard the rumours already. In the end, she gave a nod, excused herself from her friends and placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to escort her from the room. They didn’t say a word to each other. Jasper had the distinct impression she knew what she was needed for.
At last the Duchess of Kensington was on her way. This would be sorted out in a matter of minutes.
Grace sat back down on the settee and placed her hands in her lap, pretending they didn’t throb from just moments before drawing blood with them. Really, it was all that man’s fault. If he’d just let her leave, he wouldn’t be sporting a black eye, bloody nose and split lip.
No one spoke. Lady Harrison sat in a chair across from her and Lord Harrison dabbed a hanky at his lip. They all watched the grandfather clock at the far wall. It was exactly twenty minutes before the door of the library opened.
Grace’s heart fell. The lady Jasper brought with him was not the Duchess of Kensington. This lady was short and slightly dumpy, although her costume was exquisite. She wore a blue silk period dress with a sliver lace overlay. But the best part of her outfit was her blue shoes playing peek-a-boo as she walked. Grace wondered if she’d had it especially made for the ball or if she rented it from a costume shop for the night. The Duchess of Kensington, whom she had been meeting with all week, was tall, slender and blonde. This lady was grey-haired and past her prime; Grace could see her wrinkles from here. And since Grace had talked to her about an hour or so before the kiss she knew the Duchess didn’t have nearly as charming a dress on as this lady.
Grace rose from her seat as the elderly woman made her way towards her. The lady was so proper that Grace couldn’t decide whether she should bob a curtsy or not. Maybe she was related to the Queen. You never knew at these types of events who you could run into.
“Miss Lancaster, may I present the Duchess of Kensington?” Jasper watched her face closely for her reaction. He wouldn’t have been disappointed by the shock that ricocheted through her body. Her mouth was stuck in the open position. But there was no way she could manage to close it, until she realised this must be the Duke of Kensington’s mother. She shut her jaw with a snap.
“How do you do, your grace? It is so nice to meet you. I have really enjoyed working with your daughter-in-law, organising this event.”
“Eh? I’m not aware of having a daughter-in-law. Who is it that you have been conversing with, Miss Lancaster?” The elderly lady leaned in close with a quizzical eye.
“The company I work for, Sinclair Functions Ltd, has been working closely with Jane, Duchess of Kensington to put together this fantastic fundraising event this evening. And I must say it has been an absolute pleasure to organise such an amazing…um…event.” Everyone in the room was staring at her as though she had lost her mind completely. “Is there something amiss?”
“Once again I must reiterate that I have no daughter-in-law and that I have never heard of a ‘Jane, Duchess of Kensington’. I think, my dear, you are confused and that it’s best if you sit down.” The lady led Grace back to her seat and sat next to her. “Lord Bingham!” the lady commanded. “Go and find my butler, Harvey, and tell him I require his services in the library, please.” She patted Grace’s hand. “Lady Harrison, fetch that blanket by the fire, will you, dear? And Lord Harrison, make yourself useful and fetch us all a glass of sherry.”
The world had stopped. Grace could feel herself falling. Everything was spinning around her. All she could think was ‘am I going crazy?’ Her vision narrowed, everything lost focus and her world slowly turned to black.
Chapter Four
Conversation and laughter quieted to an eerie silence as the foursome emerged from the library. Mrs Barrett had made certain the scene she had been privy to was spread to all her dearest friends. Of course she was shocked, simply shocked, she would say, at Bingham’s behaviour. She couldn’t say anything at all about the American however. Americans are very crass, don’t you know?
Everyone in the room stopped to watch the foursome leave the ball. Once the door shut behind them the room burst into animated conversation with the ladies whispering and giggling behind their fans and the men smiling knowingly to each other. The infamous Lord Bingham had finally been brought down by a woman.
Lord Bingham escorted Grace past the throng of spectators, his hand warm upon her back. She welcomed his support as she passed each curious face, so much so that she found herself leaning into his side. But she stopped dead when the front door opened before them.
What was going on?
The street was lined with horse-drawn carriages. The streetlights held flames, not the steady glow of light bulbs. Snow lay t
hick on the ground and smoke from many fireplaces filled the air. This was not the London she knew. She had arrived here this afternoon in a cab, and the streets had been packed with noisy cars and trucks. Where were they now?
“Miss Lancaster?” Lord Bingham’s voice was warm against her ear. “Come, our carriage is waiting.” He led her down the steps of the Manor and handed her into the carriage. He followed her in and settled himself beside her. Lord and Lady Harrison were already seated across from them.
She gazed out the window of the carriage and saw the streets filled with more carriages and carts and horses. She looked across to the other seat at her companions. She studied their clothes. She didn’t think they were wearing costumes like she was. She could feel the zipper against her skin. Lady Harrison’s dress had buttons down the back; she noticed them when she was led from the library. This was all too much for her to take in.
Grace frantically dug into the purse attached to her wrist. She fumbled for her cell phone and desperately tried to get a signal. It was no use. There was no signal. Things were not right here. In fact they were very, very wrong! She felt the panic begin to rise in her throat again but before it could overtake her, the carriage stopped and the coachman opened the door to reveal a grand house.
“Welcome to our home, Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said as she turned to welcome her guest down from the carriage.
Grace felt her mouth fall open; she had never seen such a huge house. In the dark it was magnificent, all lit up. Looking all the way up to the roof hurt her neck. She had read all about Mayfair in the romances she used to read, and she always pictured town houses all stuck together, but to actually be here and see these grand houses for herself was something else entirely.
As Lord Bingham led her up the steps with his hand once again on the small of her back, a distinguished-looking gentleman opened the door of the house.
“Good evening, Hoskins, this is Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said to her butler once he had closed the door behind them.
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