Page 10 of Never Dare to Masquerade with a Maiden

His mama sat on the settee and faced her host. “I wished to discuss our previous arrangements, however⁠—”

“A match for this fellow?” Lady Osbourne interrupted and flickered a glance at Warren. The brief assessment left him feeling rather lacking. How embarrassing this whole evening is.

Non-plussed by the interruption, his mama continued to say, “Yes. However, I believe I’ve no need of your services, as I’ve been fortunate to have met the future viscountess this eve on your premises. As such, I’m willing to remit to you your exorbitant fee. Warren—” She motioned Warren to step forward.

Against all his better instincts, he presented himself like a horse at market.

“My thanks, Lady Guernsey, for your generous offer, and I would normally gladly accept your coin, except in this instance, I shall have to decline.” Lady Osbourne stood.

If the pair were not adorned in gowns of the latest fashion but in gentlemen’s clothing, he could easily picture the two ready to count off steps and duel. In an attempt to tamp down the hostility between the two, Warren grabbed his mama by the hand and said, “Time to leave.”

Lady Osbourne side-stepped in front of them. “Not so fast, Lord Guernsey." Their host gave them a smile. “I have a few inquiries I must make first. Please take a seat, Lady Guernsey.”

“I’d prefer to stand,” his stubborn mama answered.

“Very well.” Lady Osbourne crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you recognize the lady you believe to be the future Viscountess of Guernsey?”

“No.”

Their host shook her head and asked, “Did you by happenstance overhear any part of the conversation in this room while you were at the threshold?”

“Of course not. I was getting to know my future daughter-in-law. Why would I ever lower my standards to engage in such awful behavior as eavesdropping? Good gracious.” His mama’s ears reddened, a telltale sign she was lying. “I have a question of my own.” Changing the subject was another strategy she employed when she found herself in a predicament. “What is the lovely lady’s name? I would like Warren to pay her a call on the morrow.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to share her name with you.”

Hand planted on her hips, his mama stared at their host and asked, “Why ever not?”

“Masked ladies signal that they prefer their identities to remain anonymous.”

“Oh. Well, then, I suppose we shall have to engage your services after all.”

His mama had crossed the line.

“Absolutely not. As I’ve told you. I do not intend to marry unless the lady is in possession of my signet ring,” Warren exclaimed.

Lady Osbourne’s eyes darted between them. “Oh. Now, this sounds interesting.”

“We are leaving.” Warren dragged his mama by the arm toward the door.

“You know how to reach me, Lady Guernsey,” Lady Osbourne called out behind them. A moment before the door closed, she added, “And I look forward to seeing you again, Lord Guernsey.”

“Not if I have any say in the matter,” he muttered.

Lady Osbourne’s laughter was the last thing he heard before he ushered his mama through the Velvet Hell, all the while threatening to lock her up if she continued to press him on the issue of marriage.

It wasn’t until he was safely sequestered away in his study that the tension in his shoulders eased. The vision of the lady his mama swore would be the future viscountess and the silver necklace flashed before him once more. Damn. I have to find the chit and quick. It was the last cognitive thought he had before he drifted off to sleep at his desk.

Chapter Four

The mere mention of Bond Street sent shivers down Olivia’s arms, let alone being forced to traverse along the crowded pathway that the ton frequented. However, Lady Charlotte had made it quite clear that she expected Olivia to remain close and to act as a second pair of eyes and ears today. Rather than inquiring as to exactly what she was on the outlook for, Olivia kept both her questions and her fears within. Focused on Lady Charlotte’s hem, she trailed behind her mysterious employer.

Lady Charlotte was like no other. On the surface, the countess appeared much like her peers, but the woman’s activities were far from usual. She’d yet to see Lady Charlotte pick up a paintbrush, thread a needle, or be seated upon the bench at the piano forte. Instead, she found the lady of the house to be intriguing and was for the first time encouraged to engage in conversation that went beyond the menu for the day. Olivia didn’t wish to become too fond of the countess, for history had proven all good things ended quickly and abruptly.

“Miss O.” Lady Charlotte gracefully maneuvered through the crowd so that they were positioned behind a gaggle of dandies, who were a good head and shoulders taller than both of them. “Come closer.”

Olivia slipped beside the countess. “Yes, my lady.”

“I need your assistance today. Look about and be alert. Staring at my heels will do neither of us any good.”