“Arabella, is your father—”
“But recall, Lord Luxborough seemed much more interested in you.”
“Yes, but what—” Thea stopped. Clearly, Arabella did not wish to discuss her father, and there was little point in wondering, yet again, what the earl might have meant.
Yet even without his unsettling words and the inexplicable promise gleaming in those eyes, there had been something about Lord Luxborough that made her feel… Oh, she didn’t know what it was. Something about the way he was so large yet so at ease with himself; the way he had crossed the tavern floor with such strong, sure-footed grace; the way he seemed not to give a flying farthing what anyone else thought.
Were it not for those scars, one would never imagine he had ever been weak. Yet for all that he was an earl—and therefore, by definition, a villain—he was also a man who had suffered. Somehow, he had recovered from that weakness; if only she could ask him how to do that, how to regain one’s faith when the world had been whipped out from under one’s feet.
Thea tried to shake off the discomfiting feelings his memory aroused, but the towering hedges lining the driveway offered no distraction, and her thoughts strayed back to him again.
“When a man is attacked by a giant cat,” she said, “do you think he becomes infected with the nature of the beast?”
Arabella turned her head slowly and raised one eyebrow. Cheered by this response, Thea continued.
“Consider it to be like the legend of the werewolf. Most of the time, he appears to be a perfectly normal gentleman.” She gripped Arabella’s forearm and lowered her voice for dramatic effect. “But at nightfall, he turns into a giant cat. He prowls through the shadows and pounces on humans like mice.”
Arabella gently reclaimed her arm. “If Lord Luxborough is a were-jaguar, then I do hope he is house-trained. I should not like him scratching the furniture and making a mess in corners.”
“If you please!” Thea protested. “A jaguar is far too noble a beast to do anything so vulgar as that.”
“You speak with great authority, considering you do not even know what a jaguar is.”
Thea sniffed haughtily. “I do not need to be an expert to share my expertise.”
“Fair point. Ignorance has never stopped anyone from talking knowledgeably about a subject.”
Any response Thea might have made died on her lips, as the barouche swung around a corner and the house came into view. House? Such a paltry word did not serve. The sprawling white pile boasted such an array of ornate wings and spires, Thea would sooner call it a palace. Arabella said nothing—it was her childhood home, after all—so Thea willed herself to stop fidgeting and feign nonchalance. She would not think about the daunting grandeur of this house, or about the lies she would tell the people inside it. She would think about something else instead.
“If I could turn into any animal at all, I would be a cat,” she announced.
“An ordinary house cat?” Arabella sounded appalled by the idea.
“There is nothing ordinary about a house cat. A cat is playful but fierce and doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Why, what would you be?”
“I would be a hawk.” Arabella tilted back her head and studied the twilight sky. “I would soar up high, where I could see and know everything. I would find my enemies and watch what they did.”
“And then?”
“I would swoop down and tear out their eyes.”
“Um.”
Arabella looked back at Thea with a faint, self-mocking smile, and that was their last quiet moment, for they had reached the house and the barouche came to a stop. Servants streamed out to assist them, and together they climbed the steps and entered a marble cavern that passed as a foyer, where a maid relieved Thea of her horrid bonnet and handed Arabella a letter. Arabella read the letter as she led Thea through a maze of stairs and corridors to a large, handsomely appointed chamber.
“You will have everything you require, as my guest,” Arabella said. “There is no need to be nervous: If I say you are Helen, no one will doubt it.”
“Thank you,” Thea said softly. “I realize that if this goes wrong, you will be disgraced.”
“Nothing will go wrong. Nevertheless, do not draw attention to yourself.”
“I never—” Thea caught Arabella’s sharp look and sighed. “I shall try.”
“And don’t get into trouble.”
“I shall try.”
“And don’t go near Lord Luxborough. He might think you are a mouse and pounce.”
“He might rub up against me and purr.”
Arabella’s eyebrows shot up and Thea considered her statement.