Verity said with a sneaky look, as she pulled off her cap and let her golden mane tumble down over her shoulders. Then she even had the cheek to sit and brush it with Eve’s hairbrush as if this was a night much like any other. ‘Lend me a nightdress and I will go,’ she responded to Eve’s unspoken demand to be left in peace.
‘Why should I?’ Eve demanded grumpily. It seemed unfair that Verity had come out of tonight’s brouhaha looking like a part-time angel and Eve’s whole life felt as if it had been turned upside down and she couldn’t seem to get it right again.
‘Because I don’t want to be caught wandering the corridors at night in these very comfortable breeches and a gentleman’s shirt. I won’t go away and let you dream of Mr Carter until you let me change into something less improper.’
‘You should have thought of that before you stole those breeches from the attic and remember you’re the one with cause to feel ashamed of herself tonight and not me, Verity Revereux.’
‘True, but I didn’t drag the most intriguing stranger I ever met into the midst of a potential scandal, then watch him deal with it as if I couldn’t take my eyes off him either.’
‘At least I didn’t risk my reputation for the sake of an idiot.’
‘Rufus is very silly, isn’t he?’ Verity said with a heavy sigh that admitted she was shocked and disappointed by her evening.
‘Yes, and his looks are only on the outside, Verity, inside he is no better than his brothers.’
‘He didn’t even bother to wait for me. I went to so much trouble to get into that horrid house undetected, but he was dancing with a woman old enough to be his mother when I got there. Then he kissed her and they disappeared for ages and ages,’ Verity said tragically, then shrugged and went back to plundering Eve’s drawers until she found a nightdress warm enough to roam draughty corridors and not catch cold. ‘I realised Rufus is fickle as the wind and dim as a rushlight tonight,’ she added mournfully. ‘And he isn’t even very nice either; I really can’t imagine what I ever saw in him now.’
‘Good, so now you know that very handsome males are often a little stupid and spoilt with it—I suppose they have no need to try very hard.’
‘Your Mr Carter isn’t an idiot.’
‘Nor is he my Mr Carter; only imagine the fuss if he was,’ Eve managed to joke weakly.
‘I suppose there would be a whisper or two, since he obviously hasn’t got much money, but the tabbies would soon find something else to talk about if you two were boringly happy with each other and your father approved,’ Verity said as she striped off her breeches and hastily pulled Eve’s nightdress over her head.
‘Do you really think so?’ Eve said. The idea of being Carter’s lady tugged at her heart and reminded her how wondrous it felt to be kissed by a man who really knew what he was doing. No, it was every bit as impossible now as it was the night she first met him and every night since. ‘Papa would never allow it.’
‘Maybe I was a fool tonight, but my parents’ story tells me that it’s folly to turn away from true love whenever it comes along. I had to find out if Rufus was only perfect on the outside, Eve. You know better than anyone that you can’t judge a person by the family they were born into, although in his case I suppose I should have done.’
‘It’s as well you don’t love him then, isn’t it? Now go away, Verity. You’re the last person who should preach to me about love after what you got up to tonight. Thank your guardian angel that we found you before the whole world knew you were abroad in breeches and then go to bed.’
‘You went straight to Mr Carter as soon as you found out I was gone though, didn’t you?’ Verity said and left Eve sitting staring at a closed door and wondering if such chaste solitude was what she truly wanted.
Of course it was, she informed her inner doubter bracingly. She had not met the right man yet and sooner or later he would turn up to make perfect sense of her life. All she had to do was wait and refuse to be side-tracked by contradictory, gruff and unsuitable heroes like Mr Carter and her life would be as close to perfect as anyone’s could be in this faulty world.
It took Colm another week to pack up the Derneley Library. With a sigh of relief he bade farewell to the few staff still working at Derneley House and limped out into a foggy autumn morning. It was time to bid farewell to Mr Carter and he must learn to be a Hancourt again. Someone had to stop the Hancourt estates slipping into chaos and it might as well be him. It would give him something to do, but as Uncle Horace and Aunt Barbara were childless he’d best not get too comfortable. Lord Maurice Hancourt would dismiss his nephew the day he inherited the dukedom, so somehow Colm would have to save enough from his salary to be able to offer his sister a home if she needed one, so he hoped the current Duke would live a long and happy life.
Nell wouldn’t give up her post simply because he wanted her to, so perhaps he could suggest Uncle Horace needed her to stop his houses becoming dusty old book warehouses, because Aunt Barbara wasn’t going to worry about housekeeping when she had so much nature left to paint. Nell couldn’t claim she wasn’t needed then, but he could almost hear her argue she was needed where she was now, thank you very much. He smiled ruefully at the notion his sister was quite happy in her current post as governess to four orphaned girls and virtual mistress of Berry Brampton House. If the Earl of Barberry ever set foot in the place, a single lady with any regard for her reputation would have to leave it though; so Colm had best start saving, even if Barberry had sworn never to visit the estate his family begrudged him so deeply.
Ten minutes later Colm limped up the steps of Linaire House, still mulling over his schemes to get his sister away from her current employment. The butler looked outraged when he limped up the front steps and coldly informed him servants used the rear entrance.
‘I am expected. Mr Hancourt,’ he informed the man with the cold authority he’d used on soldiers who thought him too young to be obeyed, but this man was made of sterner stuff.
‘So you say,’ the butler said with a regal sniff and a contemptuous look at Colm’s shabby garb and the battered portmanteau he was carrying himself.
‘My uncle is eager to have me supervise the unpacking and arranging of the Derneley Library. I wouldn’t like to be the one who delayed that project,’ he said and made as if to leave, even if he had no idea where he would go.
‘His Grace did say he was expecting a member of the family,’ the man said dubiously, but at least Colm was allowed inside so his tall story could be examined.
Hearing voices, the Duke of Linaire emerged from his study. A smile lit his rather homely face and he hurried forward to make Colm feel more welcome here than he ever was as a child. ‘Colm, my boy, how glad I am to see you at last. D’you know the bookbinder says he can’t find that exact shade of Moroccan leather to replace the damaged covers?’ the Duke of Linaire asked as if his nephew was so much a part of his life he didn’t need to explain him to his staff.
‘Let the boy settle in before you put him to work again, Horry.’ Aunt Barbara emerged from the study behind him and greeted Colm with a kiss and a quick hug that made him blink and return
