Page 11 of A Scoundrel’s Promise

“I had no idea you were planning a party for this Saturday, Lydia,” Miss Jones said.

The tension in the room thickened.

“There is some mistake,” her mother said quickly. She turned her stare onto Mackenzie. “What gave you the idea I was planning a party for next Saturday?”

Mackenzie looked around the room as if confused. “I— Forgive me, Mother. I just thought that since—” she broke off. “Oh dear, I am speaking out of turn.”

As expected, the ladies looked at one another in question. Mackenzie resisted the urge to send an I told you so glance Cora’s way. These ladies could smell juicy gossip a mile away.

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about, Mackenzie?”

Mackenzie looked at Cora as if uncertain she should continue. Cora, as instructed, gave an encouraging nod. Mackenzie returned her attention to her mother and said, “Mamma, there is a…lady who I hear is planning to throw a party in celebration of Lord Fraser’s marriage to Kyla.”

Her mother’s eyes widened. “You do not mean…”

A murmur broke out amongst the ladies and Mackenzie discerned the whispered name Lady Grand.

Her mother straightened. “It is shameful that a month has passed and no one has hosted a party in honor of Lord Fraser’s marriage. Did I not say so, Mackenzie?”

“Indeed, you did, Mamma.”

“Still, next Saturday…” Her mother’s brow furrowed.

“After that, there will be no need, I imagine,” Mackenzie said.

Her mother looked at the ladies. “You are all invited, of course, and bring any guests you like.”

A murmur erupted among the women, each agog with ideas for the now-upcoming party. Mackenzie grasped Cora’s hand and silently slipped away.

When they were well out of earshot down the hallway, Cora said, “Someday, your mother is going to discover your manipulation.”

Mackenzie waved a hand. “I am only steering her in the direction she wants to go.”

Cora snorted, but didn’t argue. “I must admit, I did not think you could convince your mother to throw a party five days hence. What will she do when she discovers Lady Grand had no intention of hosting a party?”

They reached the stairs and Cora started to turn, but Mackenzie continued forward, past the roses on the small table beneath her grandfather’s portrait, toward her father’s study.

“Mackenzie,” Cora hissed. “Your father told you to leave him and Lord Liam to their business.”

“I know,” she replied in a low voice. “I only want another peek.”

She’d almost reached the study door when the knob rattled. Mackenzie stopped.

“Then I bid you good day,” Liam’s voice filtered through the door.

“Oh, what to do?” Cora gasped.

Mackenzie winced. There wasn’t a place to hide before they were caught. As the door widened, she grabbed Cora’s hand and yanked her back to the vase of roses beneath the portrait.

“Are you certain you won’t stay?” her father asked as the men stepped into the hall.

“The leaves,” Mackenzie said, pretending to concentrate on the flowers. “One must arrange them to compliment the roses, Cora.”

“Yes, yes, to be sure,” Cora dutifully replied.

Footsteps approached.

Mackenzie shot a sidelong glance at Liam. Her sleeve brushed the bouquet and snagged on a thorn. The vase tipped. All thoughts of handsome men vanished as she saw her mother’s favorite vase—her prized possession—teeter on the edge of the table. She knew she wouldn’t be able to catch it in time. Still, she tried. She stretched out her fingers—and missed.