“We were finalizing our plan.” Courtney frowned. “All but the reason we’ll give the staff. Perhaps you gentlemen can assist us with that.”
“What agreement?” Slayde demanded. “What plan? What reason?” He rolled his eyes. “And why am I surprised that I haven’t an inkling what you’re talking about?”
“I’ll tell you.” Courtney extricated herself from Slayde’s embrace, crossing the room to fetch the drawing. “Look.” She pointed to the note. “We’ve all been concentrating on the sketch, when we should have been concentrating on the message written above it.” Her eyes glowed with purpose. “The idea came to me when I considered the letter Aurora and I submitted to the Times and how long it took Aurora to copy your hand. Everyone’s writing is distinctive, especially when examined by an expert. Well, we know the perfect expert, don’t we?”
“Grimes,” Slayde muttered. “But what is it we’re asking of him? To copy the note?”
“No, to compare it. We’re going to assemble the entire staff—which we intend to do anyway, to announce our wedding plans. Once the jovial atmosphere has been established, we’ll present our dilemma—which must be something that would require each of the servants to pen a phrase. An innocuous phrase, using words contained in the message on this sketch—so innocuous that no one will feel threatened; therefore, all those who know how to write will comply. Once they have, we’ll collect all the samples and bring them to Grimes.”
“And he’ll match the writing on the sketch to that on one of the samples,” Slayde concluded. With a gleam of triumph, he turned his head to meet Oridge’s astonished gaze. “I believe you should offer Miss Johnston an apology. It appears she made extraordinary use of her time with the sketch.”
“I believe I should offer Miss Johnston a job,” Oridge returned dryly. “Her plan is ingenious.”
“Thank you, gentlemen.” Courtney grinned. “But the plan is useless without a plausible excuse to give the staff. Why on earth would we ask them to do this?”
“Because we suspect one of them has been aiding me in my escapes from Pembourne,” Aurora announced.
Three heads whipped about to face her.
“ ’Tis the perfect dilemma!” she continued. “Every servant at Pembourne knows how incensed Slayde becomes when I manage to escape, successfully eluding detection. Well, what if I’ve been managing more frequent and successful escapes of late? What if the guards were ordered to investigate—and they did, only to find an unassuming note propped alongside the back entrance, maybe concealed by a portion of the shrubs that frame the door. A note that read ‘Use this door for coming and going.’ Delivering the note to Slayde, they would all conclude that I’d been receiving help in my attempts to flee—help from someone inside Pembourne. Slayde, of course, would be irate, determined to find out who my coconspirator was. Thus, the need for writing samples—to compare with the original note, which no one will actually see. ’Tis ideal, because we needn’t fabricate an elaborate and unbelievable lie. Every staff member will know what we are doing—but not the truth behind why we’re doing it. Why, even Courtney would be required to participate. After all, she is the likeliest candidate for my accomplice. And if Slayde would go so far as to question the honor of his betrothed, not even the culprit will guess our true purpose. He’ll participate—and play right into our hands. Because if you look closely, you’ll see that every one of the words in my fictitious note is contained in the message on this sketch. So we’ll be providing Grimes with all he needs to do his job.”
“Aurora, how brilliant!” Courtney grabbed her friend’s hands and led her into a victorious jig. “Not only brilliant, but flawless. Isn’t it, Slayde?”
Slayde stared from Aurora to Courtney to the sketch. Then, he turned to his investigator, a grin of disbelief curving his lips. “Oridge—you’re fired.”
Chapter 18
“I’M GLAD YOU RECONSIDERED and kept Oridge on,” Courtney teased as Slayde escorted her to her bedchamber.
“Only because I can’t be in two places at one time,” Slayde joked back. “Else he’d be gone.” Sobering, he added, “I intend to stand guard over you all night and have him do the same for Aurora. I’m not taking any chances with either of you.”
He opened the bedchamber door—and collided with Miss Payne.
“Oh, pardon me, my lord,” she said, turning three shades of red. “I didn’t hear you coming. But ’tis Matilda’s night off. So after I turned down Miss Johnston’s bed, I awaited to see if she needed anything.”
“Thank you, Miss Payne,” Courtney replied. “That’s very kind of you. But there’s nothing I require.” She hid her smile as Slayde strolled into the bedchamber, causing the housekeeper to blanche.
“I’ll see to Miss Johnston,” Slayde informed Miss Payne, unbothered by her reaction to his scandalous behavior. “Despite Matilda’s absence, she’ll want for nothing.”
; The housekeeper looked as if she might faint, and Courtney felt a wave of sympathy. “I’m sorry if we’ve shocked you,” she leaned forward to murmur. “Despite appearances, ’tis only a minor indiscretion. Lord Pembourne and I are to be married within a fortnight.”
Miss Payne swallowed. “Married?”
“Yes, but don’t breathe a word. We’ve told only Lady Aurora, Lexley, and the Viscountess Stanwyk. We’ll be announcing it to the entire staff tomorrow. So, please, keep our secret. And, again, forgive Lord Pembourne’s less than proper behavior—and mine.”
“Yes. Of course. Congratulations. I understand. Good night.” Miss Payne backed off, then hastened down the hall.
“Slayde, you’re impossible,” Courtney said, shutting the door and biting back laughter. “The poor woman nearly collapsed, she was so mortified.”
“I really couldn’t care less. I’ve never lived my life for others. I don’t intend to start now.” He paused, glancing at Courtney. “Unless it upsets you.”
“I’ve never made a secret of how little protocol means to me,” Courtney answered. An impish grin curved her lips. “Although I had wondered if you, like Mr. Oridge, planned on spending the night in the hallway.”
Slayde’s gaze intensified, his eyes darkening to a deep, smoky gray. “I’d planned on spending the night in your arms,” he said in a husky voice that sent shivers down her spine. “Unless you turn me away.”
In answer, Courtney turned the key in the lock, crossing over to stand before him. “Never,” she breathed. Reaching up, she untied his cravat. “I’ll never turn you away.” She unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt, parting the material and pressing her lips to his exposed, hair-roughened skin. “I love you too much.”