“Ours were waiting for us early this morning,” Mrs. Binns said. “As Josie would have seen if she had not rushed out willy-nilly without checking the salver on the desk. Several gentlemen we met last night sent ’round calling cards,” she added with a satisfied nod.“And more came today. I’ll get them so we can talk about prospects for your dancing partners tonight at the ball.”
Josie wasn’t interested in dancing or other men. She wanted to know more about how and when Dev had found out about the séance.“You sent a note to Lord Waite? And he would have read it this morning?”
“Most likely last night. My maid was instructed to tell Carson the missive was important, and he is quite efficient at making sure Dev reads my notes in a timely manner.”
“Why you would want to have another séance on the night of your ball is a mystery to me,”Mrs. Binns said over her shoulder.“Oh, just look at these notes.”
“It is quite strange. As I walked down the hall, I kept hearing this faint voice saying over and over, ‘Séance tomorrow. Séance tomorrow.’ You don’t think I’m channeling Amanu, do you? Wouldn’t that be exciting? Or perhaps terrifying—I’m not sure.”
Josie bit her lip to keep from assuring Honoria the ghost she heard was probably her son from the future. Go Deverell. He must be thrilled to have finally gotten through to his mother.
“You’re not channeling anything but a little bird,” Mrs. Binns said. She returned to her seat carrying a shallow silver plate about the size of a shoebox lid. “Oh my, Lord Chalmsey left his card.” She held the card to her breast. “Such a handsome man. He would be the catch of the season.”
“After my son,” Honoria said.
“Of course. But he is still a confirmed bachelor.” Mrs. Binns set the salver on the table between them, and she and Honoria went through the formal cards, notes, three poems, and a nosegay of dried violets.
Josie sat back and listened to their comments on the assorted gentlemen who had “called.” Phones might be more efficient, but she’d never received a poem on her voice mail. All the verses were written by the same man and were ridiculous enough to cause giggles when read aloud. She thought the ode to her eyebrows had a nice meter, and to give the writer his due it wasn’t easy to find a word that rhymed with arched. Both older women deemed the penniless poet unsuitable.
Josie tuned out the discussion of titles, habits, and incomes, although she did maintain an expression of mild interest and remembered to nod now and then.
So Dev had known that another séance was already scheduled when he made the deal with her. The dirty rat. If he thought she would keep her end of a bargain made under false pretenses, he had a surprise coming.
Her first inclination was to confront him with his perfidy, but fortunately he wasn’t handy and she had a chance to rethink her position. He didn’t know she knew. That gave her an ace in the hole. Now the trick would be how to play her advantage to the best effect.
“Don’t you think so, Josie?” Honoria asked.
“An excellent idea,” Mrs. Binns said.
“Josie?”
“Ah...sure.”
“Then it’s settled,” Honoria said. “While you two are napping, I will arrange for trays to be brought up later.”
“This will work out just fine,” Mrs. Binns said, rubbing her hands together.“Her absence at dinner will create a bit of anticipation, and then Josie can make a grand entrance fashionably late.”
“But not too late,” Honoria added. “The dancing will start at nine and you don’t want to miss a minute of that.”
“I don’t know how...”
“What girl doesn’t love to dance?” Mrs. Binns asked.
“I...”
“Estelle planned the musical program and insisted we have several waltzes. She says it’s all the rage on the Continent,” Honoria said, neither woman giving Josie a chance to talk.
“A bit risqué, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps for a public assembly, but perfectly acceptable for a private ball.The young people are quite eager to display their new skills.”
“I’m sure they are,” Mrs. Binns said with a sniff. “I think Josie will stay with the traditional quadrilles and country dances.”
Josie didn’t remember any of her one dancing lesson with...whoever that was that came to tea with Amelia.“I don’t...”
“She can waltz if she wants to. I might even have a try at it myself.”
“Honoria! I’m shocked.”
“I am not an old fuddy-duddy yet.”
“If you’re insinuating I...”
“Whoa! Time-out.” Josie made the T with her hands and even though the other women couldn’t possibly have any idea what it meant, they did stop talking.“There’s no sense arguing. I won’t be dancing, because I don’t know any of the steps. No,my education wasn’t lacking—okay, maybe a little as far as the quadrille is concerned—but I’m sure I’ll enjoy watching everyone else.”
“Oh, I wish I’d known,” Honoria said with a commiserating expression.“I could have arranged for a dancing master to come in yesterday or earlier today.”
“We certainly will engage one before heading to town for the Season,” Mrs. Binns said.
“I’ll give you Master DuPree’s card. He is the very best.”
“Thank you. Hasn’t he written a book?”
“We have a copy in the library. I’ll have Nellie bring it up for you.You and Josie will just adore his wit.Who are you going to have do her wardrobe?”
“I was thinking of Solange of La Petite Salon.”
“Excellent choice. But you must have Mrs. Smithson do her millinery. Fabulous featherwork. The proper headpiece can take an outfit from ordinary to amazing.”
“I agree. So important. And she will need new gloves, boots...”
Friends again, the two women were off planning Josie’s future.A future she couldn’t afford, monetarily or time-wise.
“Speaking of the library,” Josie said to no one in particular. “I think I’ll go down and pick out a book. I’ve nearly finished mine.” It was a lie, but she needed an excuse to inspect the library before the séance and put her pitifully few traps in place.
“I’ll come with you and get Master DuPree’s book,” Honoria said.
“If you don’t mind keeping an eye on Josie for me...”
“I don’t need a chaperone to get a book.”
“Yes, you do,” both women said simultaneously.
“Remember your reputation,”Mrs. Binns added. “Right now is an especially precarious time. Considering your...adventure this morning.”
“I’ll see her safely to the library and back,”
Honoria promised.
“Thank you. I’ll have a bit of a lie-down,” Mrs. Binns said. She turned to Josie. “And you should too, my dear. It will be a late night.”
“I will. Later,” Josie promised.“I’ll be right with you,” she said to Honoria.
Josie went into her room and grabbed the small bundle of potentially useful items she’d prepared the night before. It was too big to fit into her teensy-weensy reticule, so she tied a loop into the large handkerchief, stuck her arm through the makeshift handle, and then draped her shawl in such a way as to cover the entire package.
She wasn’t sure how she was going to get rid of her substitute chaperone, but she’d think of something. She would need to be alone to set her traps before the séance.And then she would decide what to do about Lord Waite and his scheming.
Fourteen
GETTING RID OF HONORIA WAS EASIER THAN Josie had anticipated. After only two minutes in the library, a servant rushed in with a potential disaster that required her immediate attention or else the supper for the ball would be utterly ruined.
“Oh, dear. I really must see to Cook immediately,” Honoria said.
“No problem. I’ll wait right here for you to return.”
“The last time she locked herself in her room with a bottle of schnapps, it took Mrs. Osman and me three hours to ta
lk her out. She was hungover for two days. Cook, not Mrs. Osman.”
“Then you should go right away.”
“I could call for Dora or...”
“Don’t bother poor Dora. Hopefully she’s resting.”
“Mrs. Binns...”
“Already asleep, I’m sure. Go on. She’ll never know the difference.”
“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I don’t know what to do.”
“Really, I’ll be fine. Look on the bright side. You’ll probably take care of the emergency in a few minutes. But if it looks like you’ll be tied up for hours, you can send me word and I’ll go back to my room like a good little girl and take my nap.”
“You are a sweet child,” Honoria said, thanking Josie several times before rushing off.
“Well, that was easy,” Deverell said as he popped into the room.
“Did you have something to do with that?”
“If you mean did I lock Cook in her room, then the answer is no. If you mean did I open the cabinet door and move the schnapps bottle a few inches to where Cook could see it...?”
“You didn’t? That was a terrible thing to do. Poor Cook has had such an awful day, and now you cause your poor mother additional worries.”
“She will cope magnificently. She always does. And someone had to help you.Would you rather have spent the afternoon discussing the relative merits of your many suitors?”
“You were eavesdropping.”
“I was waiting for you to do what we came here to do. Did you devise any traps?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” Josie plopped her bundle on the table and crossed her arms.
“Well, don’t just stand there.We only have about twenty minutes.”
Suddenly suspicious, she asked, “And how do you know that? Did this exact incident happen before? I mean, do you have a memory of it? Or are you ‘remembering’ the revised version? Or...”
“Don’t get your garters in a knot. I simply know Mrs. Osman had a duplicate of Cook’s key made after she locked herself in with a bottle...”
“Your mother told me about that. But that means we only have a few minutes.” She removed a twist of Mrs. Binns’s finest silk thread and began to position five- to six-foot lengths across sections of the wood paneling and bookshelves. She kept the thread near the floor, and the brown color blended perfectly. If someone used a secret door, he or she would inadvertently break the silk. “You could give me a hand with this.”
“I’m conserving energy. You have time. The housekeeper will have to find the key first.”
His self-satisfied grin prompted her to ask,“Did you take it?”
“No, but I did move it to a spot behind a footlocker. I don’t know why you’re doing that. I’ve told you there aren’t any secret passageways into this room.”
“Look for the simplest solution first. It’s usually the right one.” She stood back to admire her handiwork. Unless you knew the threads were there, they would go unnoticed. She returned to the table to set her next trap. She removed the box of rice face powder and fluffy applicator from her bundle and then crawled under the table.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m dusting the area with a fine film of powder. If she touches the underside of the table, or the legs, it will leave a trail.”
“I don’t see how that will help. If we are going to figure out how...”
“Before we can deduce how,we have to find out what she does.” Josie stood up and dusted off her hands. “And I don’t see you coming up with any brilliant ideas.”
“Isn’t that why I brought you?”
“Then stop second-guessing everything I do.”
She removed a small vial and a plain handkerchief from her bundle. “Before you ask, I’m applying a thin coating of oil to the top of the chair where Madame sits. Hopefully, the so-called spirit will place his hands on the chairback again and leave a residue of whatever it is that glows in the dark.”
“Is that oil of cloves? Makes me think of a toothache.”
“I borrowed it from Mrs. Binns’s medical kit.”
“Won’t the smell be a bit obvious? Won’t someone question why...”
“Not likely with all the other odors emanating from those protective charms she’ll insist we wear to the séance.”
“What else have you got in that bundle?”
“Only these tiny beads I’m going to put on the window sashes to indicate if they are opened.” She took out the tiny glass vial with the cork stopper that she’d borrowed from her chaperone’s sewing basket.“That’s all I could think of. Hopefully it will be adequate.”
“How do you expect to use the information you gather to reveal the charade?”
“Sometimes evidence of foul play is enough to cause doubt.”
“But is doubt sufficient to convince Honoria to cease having these séances?”
Josie shrugged.“You know her better than I do.” She carefully placed the tiny glass beads on the sides of the window sash, not that anyone coming or going that way in the dark would notice a few red and blue bugle beads.
“I suppose it will depend on how the gypsy defends herself,” Deverell said. “Damn, I hate that the future we want hinges on uncertain odds.”
“So now you’re back to thinking we can change history.”
“After reviewing the relevant facts, I realized my original reasoning was correct.”
Heaven forbid he should admit to being wrong.
Deverell continued, “I have concluded we can change this particular piece of history because we are rectifying a wrong, serving justice. Madame X preys on emotional vulnerability for monetary gain and deserves to be stopped.”
“But you don’t deserve to have your history changed?” she asked over her shoulder as she knelt to place more beads.
“I am not looking for redemption. I must be content with carrying out the task I accepted as my penance. I can only...”
At the sudden silence, Josie stood and spun around. He’d disappeared mid-sentence.“Deverell?”
A surge of panic seized her. Had he blinked into oblivion and left her alone and stranded? Despite knowing he was no longer there, her gaze darted from one corner to another. “Yoo-hoo, Deverell?
Lord Waite?”
Then she realized his disappearance must mean Dev was near. She quickly returned to the table and tossed her shawl over the unexplainable supplies just as the door opened.
“I thought I heard your voice,” Dev said. Actually he’d been headed to the stables when he’d thought he heard his name called. Spending time with her had more appeal than a ride.
Because she was alone in the library, he left the door open for propriety’s sake. He also motioned to the footman. “Please fetch Miss Drummond’s chaperone.”
“No,” Josie said.“Don’t disturb her. She’s resting. Your mother said she’d be right back.”
Dev signaled the footman. “Please inform Lady Honoria her presence is requested.”
The footman scurried to do his bidding.
“That wasn’t necessary.”
“I see you did not attend the picnic luncheon with the other guests. Do you not enjoy picnics?”
“Don’t change the subject. I find this obsession with chaperones a great inconvenience.” She scooped up her shawl in an awkward manner.“I shall return to my room now.”
“One moment, if you please.”
“I’d rather not.”
She stopped a few steps away, her expression indicating she was impatient for him to move out of the doorway. He didn’t budge. Every time he saw her, she intrigued him all the more.What was she hiding under that shawl she held clasped so tightly to her lovely breasts?
He stifled a smile at the sound of her foot tapping impatiently.“I am delighted to see the shower had such a restorative effect.”
“You’re keeping me here to discuss your plumbing?”
Her blush and rapid shallow breathing revealed more than her bold words.
“I told you she is not receiving,” the butler said.
“Step aside, old man. I will see Miss Drummond.”
“Wait here,” Dev said to Josie. He stepped into the hallway and closed the library door behind himself.“Thank you, Carleton,” he said to the butler. “I will deal with Lord Hargrave.”
“Very good, milord.”
He waited until the servant was out of earshot before speaking to the piece of filth before him.“If you leave immediately, I will not...”
“I’m here to do my duty toward Miss Drum-mond,” Hargrave said, raising his chin. “I offer her my name in order to salvage her reputation.”
“You what?” Josie screeched.
Dev spun around.“I asked you to wait...”
“Why? So you could politely...”
“Miss Drummond.” Hargrave pushed past Dev and rushed toward Josie.
Dev reached for the man’s arm and missed. Josie automatically backed away from the oncoming villain.
“Miss Drummond, you must forgive my precipitous actions of this morning. I was driven mad by your beauty.Wild by the need to be with...”
“Oh, shut up,” Josie said.
Dev had to give her credit. Once she’d recovered from her surprise, she stood her ground. He came up behind his former friend.“Har...”
“You stay out of this,” she said, rounding on Dev.
He raised his hands in submission and backed off. But not too far.
Josie turned back to Hargrave. “I can’t believe you had the balls to show up here. You’re lower than low.You’re...”
“I am here to restore your good name by giving you mine.”
“What?”
“Once we’re married...”
“Listen, you thick-skulled cretin, I told you before but I tell you again. I will never marry you. Never. After what you did to...”
Hargrave fell to his knees and groveled. “Please, forgive me, Miss Drummond. Your beauty drove me to it.” He grabbed her foot and tried to kiss it.
In her futile effort to escape his grasp, she fell backward. She dropped her bundle and scrambled to retrieve an odd assortment of objects even as she shook her leg to dislodge Hargrave’s desperate grip. He held on like a dog with a bone.
Laurie Brown Page 19