Page 56 of Lady Dramatic
Lady Serenity had come as a bee. It really was both a dreadful and somehow endearing costume. There was nothing at all flattering about it and the colors were awful, but she came off very charming.
He could not make heads or tails of the duke’s costume. Was he in a vicar’s surplice going up in flames?
He hurried forward. “Your Grace, Lady Serenity.”
“Ho there, Thorpe,” the duke said.
Lady Serenity gave a pretty little curtsy. Or as pretty a curtsy as one could do in piles of drab flannel.
“You are a bee,” Roland said. “It is charmingly original.”
Lady Serenity laughed and said, “Our housekeeper warned me to be on the lookout for false flattery and here it is. I feel alittle bit ridiculous, especially now that I am in view of so many fine ladies arrayed in splendor.”
“Serenity has an obsession with bees,” the duke said, “best to know about those sorts of oddities up front.”
“Papa,” Lady Serenity scolded.
“Gracious, Serenity,” a lady said to Roland’s right. He turned to find Lady Marchfield frowning.
“Aunt,” Lady Serenity said, not looking particularly delighted to see her.
Lady Marchfield sighed. “Lord Thorpe, please pretend you’ve never set eyes on this concoction of a costume. I will guarantee that it was the duke’s uncouth housekeeper’s influence that led to it.”
“It was not Mrs. Right’s idea, though,” Lady Serenity said. “I thought of it on my own.”
“She’s very fond of bees,” the duke said, “which you would know, Lady Misery, if you spent ten minutes attempting to understand your nieces rather than scolding them all about one ridiculous thing after the next.”
Lady Marchfield seemed taken aback by this idea, as Roland imagined she must be. The lady sniffed and said, “I had intended to introduce Serenity to the Countess of Pembroke. She is Lady of the Bedchamber to our dear queen and a very influential woman. I think I will put it off, considering.”
“Take my daughter to meet the countess or I will tell everyone I am dressed asyourvicar, going up in flames to meet the devil, as that poor fellow thought it preferable to spending another minute in your company,” the duke said.
Lady Marchfield stiffened.
Roland supposed the duke really would tell people that, and he supposed Lady Marchfield knew it.
“It isyourhousekeeper that has gone to the devil, I will remind you,” she said. “I have rescued Mr. Cremble from her clutches but do not imagine you have heard the end of it.”
Roland assumed that meant the butler had departed the Nicolet household under unusual circumstances.
“Ha! Why would I imagine I’ve heard the end of it? There never is an end to your nattering. Now, get going to find Lady Pembroke. I wish to have a private word with Thorpe.”
“Shameful!” Lady Marchfield muttered. “Come, Serenity, I cannot say what’s got into your father, but he is somehow more offensive than usual. I’d not have thought it possible!”
Roland might have been shocked by the duke’s and his sister’s exchanges if he’d not been witness to it before. What private word did the duke wish for, though?
He watched Lady Serenity being marched off by her aunt, her charming white organza wings bouncing behind her. He looked enquiringly at the duke.
“Your brother has sent a preposterous letter to my household,” the duke said.
Roland felt his jaw clench. Charles never stopped making trouble, it had turned into his life’s work.
“The idea of the letter was to convince me that it was you who got that housemaid in trouble and it was all hushed up.”
“Did he, now,” Roland said.
“He did, but as it happens, your brother’s star does not shine very bright in the sky. It was clumsily done and he very obviously gave himself away on quite a few fronts. One, the account of the circumstances you gave at your dinner, which he did not challenge, was that you had just returned from school and discovered the girl had been thrown from the house.”
Roland nodded. “That is true.”
