No, they must not see her.
She snatched back the letter and scanned it, saying as she did, “The Prince Regent will host a grand party in London to celebrate the marquess’s return and they want me to procure them invitations. ‘This year, September’s Little Season will be a Grand Season, and we will be part of it.’ And he will call tomorrow.”
“Not possible,” Luxborough said. “We leave for Somersetshire first thing tomorrow.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she said absently, her mind still on this news.
A grand party, hosted by the Prince Regent. In late August, every lord, lady, and gentleman in Britain would travel to London for that party; Town would be as busy as during the main Season in spring. Pa would not be wrong; he would know because he supplied the contractors who supplied the Crown.
Oh, but this was a marvelous opportunity! If Thea’s pamphlet was distributed to every genteel house in London, then by the time of the Regent’s ball, her story could be the talk of society.
Yet her charade with Luxborough would be finished. She would have no entry to the ball, unless Arabella could smuggle her in, for surely Arabella would attend. As would everyone else. Ventnor and Percy and Helen and Beau and—
“What are you up to?” Luxborough said.
She blinked, startled. “Pardon?”
“You are scheming something. You have a frighteningly expressive face.”
“You must acquire invitations for Ma and Pa.” Hastily, she began to prepare pen, ink, and paper. “And write to Pa. Tell him— Why aren’t you writing?”
“I am an earl.”
“And?”
“You cannot order me to write a letter like I’m your secretary.”
“Don’t they teach you to write at earl school? Classes in penmanship, alongside classes in preposterousness, peremptoriness, and parsimoniousness.”
“You do realize there is no earl school.”
“Then how do you know how to earl? You are in charge of running the country and they don’t train you for it?”
“Precisely.”
“Without even teaching you to read and write?’
“Of course I can read and write.”
“Then why are you not writing?” She patted the chair. “Sit. Write. Tell Pa that if he keeps your marriage secret, you will announce it at the ball, and present them to the Prince Regent as your parents-in-law. They’ll like that.”
He looked disgusted by the idea. “I shall not attend any blasted ball, or beg for invitations, or present your parents to anyone.”
“Do you want them showing up on your doorstep in Somersetshire? My parents, who are incapable of keeping a secret? Poking in their noses right where you are raising an army of dead wives?”
He threw up his hands. “I am not raising an army of dead wives.”
“I have it on good authority that you are.”
“That was your fabrication.”
“Well, if I made it up, it must be true.”
His eyes looked wild and she managed not to laugh. Or to catch his face in her hands again, just to feel his warmth and strength. Or to kiss him again. Her lips tingled at the thought.
“At least if I write this blasted letter, you might shut up,” he muttered.
Bending over the desk, he dashed off a quick note to her father and addressed it. Then he scrawled out a separate note, tossed down the pen and wad of bills, and straightened. His eyes skated over the pile of parcels but all he said was, “We leave for Brinkley End early. Be ready.”
He took two steps toward the door, then turned back. “Countess, I should advise you, some of the workers in my house and on my estate are…unusual.”
“Unusual how?”
“My land steward and housekeeper have trouble finding employees because of the rumors about me. Astonishingly enough, many people prefer not to work for a man reputed to be a murdering sorcerer. But we are not far from Bristol, where people from around the world wash up, many of who are desperate or homeless or have come from situations that make a murdering sorcerer sound pleasant by comparison. We don’t care where people come from or what they look like, so long as they are willing to do an honest day’s work.”
“You forget that I grew up in a part of London full of people from around the world.”
“And the housekeeper, Sally Holt. She is…eccentric.”
“Eccentric? How?”
“I assure you she is quite harmless.”
“Um. That’s comforting.”
He paused, looked at her lips, and the kiss bounced around inside her again, as if eager for a friend, but then he wheeled about and headed for the door. In the doorway, he again turned back.