Page 62 of A Game of Scandal

“That is not at all reassuring,” I said.

The door was finally answered by a shuffling man who must have been in his eighties (at least). He wore the stiff, old-fashioned uniform of a butler from fifty years ago and, despite his slightly stooped figure, his clothes were immaculate.

Looking out of rheumy blue eyes, he examined Ash and myself for a long moment.

“If it isn’t Baron Ely,” he said, his voice strong, tone mildly disapproving.

“Hello, Smythe,” Ash said cheerfully, resting his forearm against the edge of the door and leaning in that carelessly casual way of his, as if his own bones couldn’t support him. “Is she in?”

“Madam is about to host a dinner.” Smythe pursed his lips, the disapproval deepening.

“Well, I’ve brought someone for her to lecture at, so could you fetch her?” Ash said, and I felt my alarm at the situation grow.

Smythe only sniffed and disappeared back into the house. (The disappearing took quite a long time and was accompanied by some heavy wheezing.)

“This person can’t be expecting a house guest,” I said, twisting my fingers together. “I don’t know what I was thinking; this is extremely rude.”

“Oh, extremely,” Ash agreed cheerfully.

At that moment, a woman appeared in the doorway. I guessed she was in her early sixties, and though she was not much taller than me, she had a great deal of presence. Something in the snapping look of her dark eyes had me standing up straight, though Ash continued to sprawl about the place, grinning at her.

For a fraction of a second it was possible that those eyes softened, but it might have been a trick of the light because her thin lips remained pressed in a straight line as she looked us both over. When she spoke, her words were clipped and cool.

“So, Freddie,” she said. “What have you done now?”

“Freddie?” I whispered, temporarily diverted, and Ash scowled, peeling himself away from the door jamb.

“You know perfectly well it’s Ash, you old harridan,” he said, and far from looking upset by his words, those fine, dark eyes glinted back at him.

From inside the house, however, came a wheezing honk of outrage.

“I see the years have not improved your manners, boy,” the woman said. “Are you planning to introduce me to your friend?” Her gaze swept over me once more.

“Tiff, this is Lady Felicity Vane.” Ash gestured to me. “Felicity, this is Tiff.”

“Um, nice to meet you,” I managed, wondering what sort of name Tiff was.

“Tiff here is one of those academics you’re so interested in.” Ash turned to me, mischief writ large on his face. “Though her expertise is in economics, which is – if you ask me – excessively dull.”

“You always were a poor student,” Tiff replied.

“Tiff,” I murmured, then gave a start. “But … you’re Laetitia Tiffins! You wrote The Economics of Capital! I found your thoughts on the law of normal value to be extremely compelling.”

Laetitia blinked. “Well,” she said after a moment. “That is unexpected. How unlike your usual company.”

Ash’s grin only grew. “I feel certain there’s an insult directed at me in there,” he said. “But I’m not here to argue, Tiff. Felicity finds herself in a bit of bother and she needs a place to stay for a couple of days. She’s a rather brilliant mathematician. I told her you’d take her in.”

“O-only if it’s no trouble,” I stammered, mortified that I was meeting an eminent Cambridge lecturer, a woman I greatly admired, in a borrowed dress, covered in bruises, carrying no luggage, in the company of a shameless – if charming – rogue. It was not exactly as I had pictured it.

“Why not take her up to Ely Hall?” Laetitia sniffed.

“For God’s sake, Tiff. I’m halfway in love with the girl – would you wish that on her?”

I stiffened at this. He was always so playful, so casual with words, and I didn’t know how I was supposed to react to such a statement. His mouth curled into that lopsided smile and he leaned down towards me, his nose brushing against my hair as he whispered in my ear, “Breathe.”

Daring a glance at Laetitia, I saw that a small smile had settled on her lips. “Fine,” she said, though the smile hadn’t reached her voice, which remained clinically neutral. “She can stay.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Ash exclaimed, surprising me when he reached out and gathered the older woman in his arms, pressing a smacking kiss on her cheek.