only to drown to the last man in a storm.”
Oh, that was fairly good. Valentine must have put some thought into that fib; to mention the golden rose by name would have been a mistake. Still, it was a lengthy explanation of his lie, and he probably should have kept it shorter. And probably would have, if she’d been paying him the least attention when he first uttered it.
“Really?” she asked, turning to the marquis. “I doubt there’s any truth to the legend, but I will admit to being intrigued ever since I heard the tale a few weeks ago. My brother Gideon thinks it all a great hum, but Val here has promised to help. You don’t think us incredibly silly?”
“Not at all. There isn’t a little boy in all of England who hasn’t dreamt of finding buried treasure. I don’t see why it should be so different for the fairer sex.”
She smiled at him, careful to bat her eyelids, just the once. “La, my lord, how forward-thinking of you. Many would suggest we of the fairer sex are too fragile for such undertakings.”
“Not true. But I would be remiss if I didn’t add joining you and Val here will also afford me an excuse to spend more time in your fair company.”
Oh, now I know I’m being led by the nose! Such stuff and nonsense, and laid on with a trowel, it’s so thick! “You put me to the blush, my lord.”
She sensed Valentine looking from the marquis, to her, and then back again. He then got to his feet, rubbing his palms together. “Good! That’s settled, then. Kate, isn’t it soon time for some afternoon refreshment? I’m sure Simon is hungry for a little something before dinner.”
“Yes, of course. A poor hostess I’d be, indeed, if I hadn’t thought of that myself.” Don’t ask me to be perfect and then continually test me, Val, or you’ll be sorry you ever began this farce. Although I suspect you already are!
As if he’d been hovering outside the door awaiting his cue to enter, Dearborn stepped into the room to announce the arrival of refreshments, “as requested by Lady Katherine” (she’d asked him to add that last part). In marched a trio of maids, all carrying silver trays laden with sandwiches, cakes and a large pitcher of lemonade. They could have fed a half-dozen ravenous men with this display of food, but then, the Redgraves did nothing in a small way...and the servants would enjoy the remnants that returned to the kitchens.
The marquis surprised Kate by taking on the role of mother, pouring them each a tall tumbler of lemonade. “So you don’t have to strain to lift such a heavy pitcher,” he told her, handing her one of the glasses.
“Oh, too kind, too kind,” she purred, smiling around gritted teeth, mentally exchanging that trowel for a shovel. “We’re quite informal here, my lord. Please feel free to help yourself to anything you’d like.”
“Yes,” the marquis said slowly, his back to Valentine, looking at her rather than the trays of sandwiches and decorative cakes. “I’ll do that.”
Kate felt herself being put to the blush, an occurrence so rare in her experience she couldn’t remember the last time it had happened. “Val? Aren’t you hungry?” she asked quickly.
Valentine was looking at his own glass with barely veiled horror. Kate believed she could read his mind: Lemonade? Is the man mad? What in bloody hell am I supposed to do with lemonade?
“Not anymore,” he grumbled, eyeing the drinks table.
Kate had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She didn’t know how long she could last with this ridiculousness, but she was certain she could hang on longer than her brother. Besides, it was rather fun being flirted with, even if the man was doing it on orders from his new friend—because that had to be the answer, it was the only answer that fit. Val had told both of them to flirt, his lordship in order to do his friend a favor, and Kate in order to play at being somebody other than herself. Or could her brother actually have brought them both together, spinning lies for both of them, all in order to matchmake? Clearly her brother had no head for intrigue. No matter what, Valentine was in trouble!
Kate reached for one of the plates holding a cake iced with some lovely pink confection. It was time to learn more about their guest. “Valentine tells me London is very flat this season, my lord. Is that true?”
“London is London, my lady, and in the end, I suppose what you make of it,” he answered, having somehow already downed half his sandwich, rather like a person who has learned to feed his belly as quickly and efficiently as possible. Someone like a soldier, perhaps?
“Yes, and I made a shambles of it last year. It was really quite enjoyable.”
“Kate,” Valentine said warningly.
“There’s no sense in pretending it didn’t happen, Valentine. Now is there, my lord?”
“I’m certain you were quite justified in your actions, my lady.”
“No, I wasn’t. I could have done any number of things. Walked off the floor, for one, cutting the man dead. Claimed a sudden indisposition and asked him to return me to my grandmother. Feigned an overturned ankle. Any number of things. I simply preferred my chosen rebuttal to his statement.”
“Again, may I say I’m certain you were quite justified.”
“Thank you.” She turned to Valentine. “Now, see how simple that was? Rough ground gotten over swiftly and smoothly. It had to be said, didn’t it? Elsewise, it would hang over us all. My goodness, she’s the barbarian who bloodied that man’s nose last year at Almacks.” She gave a slight toss of her head. “I feel much better now. Shall we cry friends, my lord, as you and Val have already done? We prefer to be informal here at Redgrave Manor.”
“I would be honored,” the marquis said with an inclination of his handsome head. “Kate.”
“Simon,” she answered, again feeling heat climbing into her cheeks. She was going to have to be extremely careful around this so pretty, so pleasing man. “I’m certain Dearborn is waiting outside, to show you to your rooms.”
As Kate rose, he stood up, as well. “I would like to change out of my traveling clothes, thank you.”
“We keep country hours, Simon,” Valentine told him. “Dinner gong goes at six, tea at ten and then early to rise. We might think about a ride over the estate in the morning?”
Simon looked to Kate. “Do you ride?” His tone implied if she didn’t, he wouldn’t, either.
“I do,” she said, “thank you for asking.”
He inclined his head to her once more. “My mount will be arriving shortly, if it hasn’t already, along with my coach and valet. I eagerly anticipate the dinner gong, so that we may become more acquainted.”
She dropped him a small curtsy, then watched as he strode out of the room. Grabbing up one of the well-cut sandwiches, she plunked herself back down on the soft couch and clunked her heels, one after the other, on the low table before crossing her legs at the ankle. “All right, where did you meet him?”
“Is it impossible for you to employ correct posture for more than ten minutes?” Val asked, seating himself on the opposite couch and repeating her action with his own legs.
She spoke around a bite of ham shoved between a split
