“If we succeed in this absurd plan of yours, I want you to stop chaperoning my meetings with Lord Ashton. Only tell Mama and Papa you’re still accompanying us and that nothing untoward has happened, should they ask.”
Not that they will.
“Ha!” Annabelle clapped her hands with glee. “It’s a deal. I knew you’d do it. But be careful what you wish for, dear sister.” She held up a finger in poor imitation of their former governess. “Unlike Eliza and I,youhave to worry about finding yourself in a family way for your indiscretions. And I’m not convinced we’ll be able to find you a substitute husband when the viscount can’t marry you.”
“Be quiet before I change my mind,” Della snapped, swatting at her arm. “You’re so vexing!”
At least after this task was done, she’d be free of Annabelle’seditorializing once and for all.
***
“Let me do the talking, and follow my lead,” Della whispered. She and her sister huddled outside the door to Peter’s study, listening for any sound within.
Though Annabelle nodded, her face solemn, there was no telling if she would stick to their plan. She had an irritating conviction that she knew best.Ah well, too late to turn back now.Della raised her fist and rapped lightly on the door.
“Come in.” Peter was lounging on a chaise, flipping through a hunting journal. When he saw them, he set his reading to the side and propped himself into a more upright position, though his expression still implied a desire to nap. “What are you doing here?”
They didn’t often pay him a visit together unless they were all attending the same event.
“We have a delicate matter to discuss with you,” Della began. Behind her, Annabelle shut the door.
“Oh God, what now?”
“No, no,” Della amended. Perhaps she should have opened differently, but why should Peter assume the worst fromher? She normally solved her own problems. “I only mean that it’s a matter of the heart.”
“Is one of you in a certain way?”
“No!” Both girls chimed at once. It was hard to say who was more insulted.
“Why would you even think such a thing?” asked Annabelle.
“This is a matter of the heart foryou, Peter,” Della explained patiently. She would keep this conversation on course if it killed her. “We have an eligible friend and we thought you might suit, that’s all.”
But Peter only wrinkled his nose, plainly unimpressed. “For me?Why? What’s wrong with her?”
Della would have liked to reply that there was nothing wrong, but it was quite impossible. If he was to present himself to Mr. Greenwood as the gentleman who’d run from his daughter’s bedroom a few nights ago, Peter would have to know something of the story. Still, she wouldn’t have chosen to get bogged down in the details before they could even sell him on the idea of a wedding. It was important to do things in the proper order.
“Why all the suspicion?” she protested. “We’re trying to do you a service! At least let us tell you who, before you jump to conclusions.”
“Very well then. Who?”
“Eliza Greenwood.” It was Annabelle who spoke, and Della shot her a warning look. But she kept on talking. “You remember her, don’t you? The fair-haired lady who was talking with me at the Pearsons’ rout the other week. She’s about so tall, stunning face, dazzling smile,veryalluring figure. She has a mole on her right cheek, just here.”
“Annabelle,” Della said sharply. This was already getting out of hand.
But Peter must have known whom they meant, for he sat a bit taller. “Yes, I remember her.”
That was a good sign.
“But why should you want to push your friend my way?” he soon continued, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve never shown any interest in my love life before.”
“Do you have one?” Annabelle asked, with an arched brow.
“Annabelle!” They would’ve done better to shut her sister out of this conversation. She was utterly useless. “You were too young to settle down before,” Della tried. “But four-and-twenty is a good age to begin planning for the future, wouldn’t you say? Don’t men want to carry on the family name and what not? Anyway, let’s focus onwhat you think of her. You agree she’s very fetching?”
“I’ll agree to that much.” He looked from Annabelle to Della, as if trying to identify the weak link. He finally settled on the younger sister. “But I don’t believe for a minute that you’d be playing Cupid out of the goodness of your hearts. So what’s the catch? Hereditary madness? She’s penniless? Someone’s compromised her already?”
“It seems you’re too clever for us,” Annabelle said. “You’ve guessed it in three. Miss Greenwood is indeed compromised, but onlyvery slightly. Hardly worth counting, in my opinion. You’d be getting a bride of the highest caliber at a bargain rate.”
