“Will they not want a name?” Grace found these ridiculous games exhausting. It would be so much easier for her to claim to be ill and stay in her chambers with her dogs. “The pups and I would be happy to dine upstairs tonight.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” Joy, Felicity, and Merry said in unison. Joy shook a finger at her. “You are next on the chopping block. Not us.”
“Must you phrase it that way?” Serendipity added a generous dollop of brandy to all their teacups.
“It is an apt description.” Grace gently nudged Gastric out of her lap, rose from the floor, and joined the others around the table. She picked up her cup and lifted it in a toast. “An oath to stick together and protect one another from Chance’s machinations this evening.” She gave Serendipity a pointed glare. “Even you, Seri. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” each of the sisters sang out.
“Heaven help me,” Grace muttered to herself before taking a hearty sip that was entirely too lacking in brandy, considering the evening that lay ahead.
Chapter Six
Grace purposely remainedseated in front of the mirror as her sisters exited the large dressing room they all shared. Maybe if she climbed into one of the wardrobes, they wouldn’t find her until it was too late, and then they would have to carry on the dinner party without her. A loud snore rumbling at her feet reminded her that precious Gastric would surely betray her as he had often done when asked,Where’s Gracie?The devoted hound thought it a wonderful game to sniff her out and bark until given the treat he felt he deserved for playing hide-and-seek so artfully.
“You are too quiet, my lady.” Her maid added a finishing touch to Grace’s curls and tucked a tall white feather into the beaded band that held her upswept hair in place. “Are you feeling poorly?”
Grace frowned at her reflection in the mirror. That feather reminded her of an irritated cat with its tail fluffed straight in the air. She snatched it off her head and tossed it onto the dressing table. “No feathers, please. Just stick some inconspicuous flowers or something in there. Or just leave the band as it is. It has beads. Is that not enough?”
“Of course, my lady. Forgive me.”
Grace deflated with a heavy sigh.Lovely.Now she’d allowed her dread of going downstairs to make her cross with her poor maid, who had done nothing wrong. She turned on the cushioned stool and faced the older woman who always took thevery best care of her. “Forgiveme, Nellie. My temper is not of your doing. As always, you are a gem for tolerating me.”
Nellie’s broad smile made her feel a little better, but not much. The maid selected a delicate white spray of flowers crafted from silk and shimmering pearls. As she pinned them to the side of Grace’s headband, she said, “Surely His Grace is not trying his hand at matchmaking out here in the country. Flora said old Froggie mentioned His Grace is already bored. Inviting folk in might help him feel better.”
“My brother is at his most dangerous when bored.” Grace eyed herself in the mirror, thankful that Nellie faithfully relayed the gossip among the servants.Old Froggiewas Chance’s longtime valet, whose real name was Frogsden.
“You are ready, my lady.” The maid stepped back, clutching Grace’s extra combs to her middle.
“That is a matter of opinion.” Grace scowled at her reflection and heaved another sigh. There was no helping it. If she didn’t go downstairs now, one or more of her sisters would soon be up to fetch her. “Thank you for preparing me for battle, Nellie.”
“God be with you, my lady.” The maid gave her a prayerful nod.
“Indeed.” Grace held her head high as she left the room and descended the stairs as quietly as possible so as not to draw anyone’s attention. If she’d had a brain, she would’ve taken the servants’ stairs down to the kitchen, slipped into the hallway, and kept to the shadows. It wasn’t that she was a coward. She simply wasn’t in the mood for any of Chance’s ridiculous games. Her only hope was to remain as unnoticed as possible.
“And there is my other sister,” Chance said when she erred and stepped out of the shadows. His deep voice filled the hallway, strangling her hopes of slipping in without being seen.
Grace forced a smile but slowed her pace toward the guests assembled in the manor house’s entryway. The area had beenopened up by folding back several moveable walls to expand space into the parlor next to the massive dining room.
Chance went to her, looped her arm through his, and whispered, “Be nice, Gracie.” Before she could respond, he tugged her toward a pale, nondescript man who looked as if he would rather be anywhere but Broadmere Manor. “Lord Blytheston, this is yet another of my lovely sisters, Lady Grace.”
The viscount offered a cold but polite bow. “A pleasure, my lady.”
Apparently not,Grace thought while dropping a curtsy. “My lord.” The man’s aloofness suited her just fine. He reminded her of a lizard, constantly flicking the tip of his tongue out past his lips as if in search of a juicy bug.
Chance squeezed her arm, a gentle reminder of his plea for good behavior as he guided her deeper into the crowd. “Lord and Lady Strathyre, please meet the final piece of the Broadmere familial puzzle, my sister, Lady Grace.”
This pair didn’t seem all that bad. Grace gave them a curtsy, noting how the marquess kept exchanging glances with the Duke of Wolfebourne. She would lay odds the two were chums. “Thank you for joining us tonight,” she told the kindly pair, pleasing Chance immensely, judging from the brightness of his expression.
“’Twas our pleasure to be invited,” Lady Strathyre said, revealing a soft Scottish accent. Her husband nodded his agreement with his wife’s sentiment.
“Sir Andrew Gransington,” Chance said as they moved to the next guest. “I would like you to meet another of my sisters, Lady Grace.”
“A pleasure, my lady,” said the tall, somber man, his voice quiet and somehow sad.
“The pleasure is mine, Sir Andrew.” Grace noticed his attention kept slipping over to the Duke of Wolfebourne andhis entourage. Was he part of the duke’s guard or something? She also found it odd that Chance had saved introducing her to the duke’s party last. According to the silly pecking order laws of theton, as the highest-ranking guest, she should have been presented to the duke first rather than last. Surely Chance knew that. She knew for certain her sisters did because they were watching her—intently so. Suspicion sprouted deep within her. What game was at play here?
“Wolfebourne,” Chance said as he tugged her over to the duke and the ladies beside him. “It is my understanding you and my sister are already acquainted—elsewise, I would have presented her to you first.”
