Page 3 of The Cutthroat Countess

He smirked at her frustration. “Speaking of balls, when will you attend your first one?”

“Thankfully, not for several more weeks as I’m not yet polished enough or civilized enough to be released into the ton quite yet. My first ball is an annual squeeze given by somebody named Castleton, or Castleby, or—”

Elliot laughed. “You mean the Duchess of Castleford’s annual ball, to which marriage-mad mamas have been known to joust to the death to acquire an invitation. That squeeze?”

Jo gave him a sour look. “I’m so pleased you find all this amusing.”

“So am I.”

She snorted and shook her head, but she couldn’t be angry with him. It was rather funny—even though it was miserable, too.

“So, what will you be doing until Castleford’s ball?”

“More dancing lessons, how to hold a teacup, walk like a lady, talk like a lady, how to pretend to find boring conversations interesting, flatter boring men and pretend they are fascinating rather than hold them at knifepoint—” She broke off when she saw he was choking back his amusement. “You are getting your revenge for all the times Angus humiliated you on stage, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, grinning unabashedly. “How is the old boy?”

“He’s started stealing again.”

“I didn’t know that he’d ever stopped stealing.”

“He was better after finding his bone, but moving into the new house has been . . . well, unpleasant. Angus has always been light-fingered, or light-beaked, rather, but lately he’s become even worse than when we worked at the Fayre. He doesn’t even bother hiding the things he steals—he just throws it all over the floor in my chambers. Oh, you can laugh,” she said when he did exactly that. “But you don’t have to live in a room that looks like a dragon’s lair with stolen booty lying around.”

“What do you think is wrong?”

“Lord knows. He doesn’t seem to like anything, not even his precious bone. He’s been positively fiendish. He has taken a dislike to Edi, and she reciprocates the feeling. He hates not having the run of the house—especially during mealtimes—and becomes surly whenever I go down to a meal. I thought a solution would be to take him down to the kitchen and have a light snack with him before breakfast and dinner—that way I could please Angus and Edi. But when I took him down to the kitchen, you would have thought I’d run amok with a cleaver. The servants stood about like wooden totems, and somebody sent word to Edi, who”—Jo saw that Elliot was trying not to laugh and shook her head. “It’s not funny.”

“It really is.”

Jo snorted.

He took her hands and drew her closer. “It is your house, sweetheart. They are your servants. If you wish to bring your bird to the dining room or the kitchen, nobody can make you do otherwise.”

“You don’t know Edi. She gives me such mournful looks—as if I’m the biggest disappointment of her life. And Angus has taken to echoing her—you know how he does?”

Elliot laughed.

“He has an unerring ability to echo the most ridiculous words.” She laughed, despite her frustration. “It’s not his fault that Edi says such vapid things. But he does like to needle her and has latched onto the word vulgar and hurls it at her whenever she is around.”

Tears were running down Elliot’s cheeks.

“Yes, well, I hope you are enjoying yourself,” she said unnecessarily, as it was patently obvious that he was. “Ugh. Do I have to remain at the house until the end of the blasted Season, Elliot?”

“It would be best.”

“But do I have to?”

“When is your presentation? I should think that is the only function you really must attend. But your cousin would know better than I do.”

“Thankfully, I don’t have to attend any of the wretched Drawing Rooms in one of those ridiculous gowns. I’m apparently going to be honored by a meeting with the Regent.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I can’t even imagine how that conversation will go.”

“Don’t worry about conversation, Jo—Prinny would rather hear himself talk than anyone else. He will like you just fine.”

“Why he bothers, I don’t know, when I have no actual right to sit in Lords.”

“Would you want to?”

She shuddered. “No.”