“He is? He does? Then why the—the?—”
“Coldness?” Soothcoor asked, readily understanding her disjointed speech. “He says he’s too old for her and claims she considers him an uncle. Won’t believe otherwise, and I’ve tried.”
Lady Orrick’s mouth opened and closed several times before she was able to speak. “But that’s ridiculous!” She grabbed the Earl’s arm. “Soothcoor, we have to do something!"
"I’ve a mind to agree with you, but I canna think what that something should be.”
“You don’t suppose you could make him jealous, could you?”
“Me! I’m not a man to be leg-shackled, and well he knows it.”
“Or thinks he knows it. The most hard-bitten bachelor can suffer a reversal of feelings and become smitten with some lady’s charms.”
“Not me,” the Earl said firmly, attempting to back away, but Lady Orrick still held his arm fast.
“Only listen to me. You said one of Stefton’s complaints was that he was too old for Catherine. You are older than he. If you don’t seem to mind the age difference…”
“And I wouldna if I were a marrying man,” interposed the Earl.
“There, see? Dance with Catherine, take her down to dinner and just be seen to spend time with her and no other lady. Catherine would welcome your company, you know, for she knows you’re not one of those fortune hunters that are swarming around her. Then at some time later, casually remark to Stefton of your interest. Meanwhile, I’ll put the bug in his ear that she has decided to accept the first creditable offer she receives. And by creditable, I mean any gentleman who is not a gazetted fortune hunter. I believe you fall into that category nicely.”
The Earl frowned. “I canna like it.”
“But you’ll do it, won’t you?” Penelope urged, squeezing his arm.
“Aye,” he said heavily, “I’ll do it, though I tell you I think it a daft scheme.”
Lady Orrick released her grip on his arm and clapped her hands. Soothcoor surreptitiously massaged his forearm, whichshe’d held tightly, and adopted the expression of the long-suffering male.
“It will work, my lord,” she said breezily. “It has to,” she finished in a whisper as the Earl bowed to her and strolled off in Catherine’s direction.
“The little wren’snew popularity will make it difficult to draw her aside for private conversation,” observed Lady Welville. “Now that her wealth is known, you’d best beware lest another unscrupulous character plans as you do.”
“That I don’t fear. They will first try to win her affections,” Kirkson said offhandedly as he scanned the room. “But you are right; engaging her in conversation without at least five hangers-on will be difficult. Nonetheless, I’m sure you’re up to the task.”
“Me!”
“Certainly. You stand a far better chance than I do."
"That is certainly true. What did you do to set her back up against you?”
He turned a tight-lipped smile toward her. “I importuned her for favors she wasn’t inclined to grant.” He shrugged. “I was drunk at the time.”
“And typically lacking in finesse,” suggested Panthea drily.
He ignored her. “Well, will you do it? Draw her into private conversation in some empty anteroom. I’ll follow you, discreetly, of course. Afterward, we’ll spirit her out of here. You did bring the laudanum, I trust?”
Panthea smiled slightly. “Of course. Where will you take her?”
“Ah, that I won’t tell you, my pet. It’s safer that way.”
“You’re certain Stefton does not care for her?”
Kirkson spread his hands wide. “It is, as you said, merely a ruse.”
Panthea pursed her lips for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “All right. But if Stefton blames me, I’ll kill you.”
“My dear Panthea, so full of doubts!” Kirkson chuckled.
