“Well done,” he said as soon as they were out of view. “Oh, well done, Zoe Octavia.” Then he laughed and tossed his chapeau bras onto a nearby chair. He grasped her waist and lifted her up as he’d done on occasion when she was very young.
She gave a surprised laugh, and round he went once, twice, thrice.
Don’t stop,Lucien,she used to say.Make me dizzy.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh.” And he felt her lips touch the top of his head. “Thank you.”
He let her down then because he knew he must. He let her down slowly but not as slowly as he wanted to. He wanted to bury his face in the silk and lace of her skirts and then in the warmth of her bosom.
But he let her down as though she were a child still, and he kept his head well back—resisting temptation, though she would think he was avoiding the feathers of her headdress.
“That was all,” he said. “I had to do it.”
“I’m glad you did,” she said. “That was how I felt. It was very difficult to keep in my feelings.”
“Well, then, now we’ve got it out of our systems, we can carry on with proper dignity.”
Marchmont found slipping back into the sea of aristocrats more difficult than slipping out of it. The entrance hall was even more crowded at present than it had been when they arrived. Eventually, though, he and Zoe reached the courtyard.
Being a head taller than much of the company, Marchmont had no trouble scanning the crowd. He soon spotted Lady Lexham. She looked very worried.
The worried look, he surmised, was not on account of Zoe, for her ladyship would trust him to look after her daughter. It was on account of the tallish woman with the great black plumes waving from her head.
“It appears that my mad aunt has got your mother in her clutches,” said Marchmont. “Aunt Sophronia can be entertaining in the right time and place. This is not the time or place. There’s no help for it, though. We must attempt to rescue your mother—Oh, drat the woman! She’s taken Emma hostage, too.”
“I have faced the Queen,” Zoe said. “I can face anything today.”
“You say that because you’ve never dealt with my lunatic aunt,” he said.
He’d dealt with her, though, time and again. He led Zoe to the cluster of women. They stood before his carriage.
“Oh, there you are, dear,” said Lady Lexham. “I was trying to explain to Lady Sophronia. She seems to believe this is her carriage.”
“Never mind him,” said his auntie. “Marchmont has his own carriage.”
“Thatismy carriage, Auntie,” he said. “There is the ducal crest, plain as day.”
“This is no time for your jokes, Marchmont,” said his aunt. “Get in, get in,” she told Lady Lexham, waving her diamond-encrusted, black-gloved hands. “The company is waiting. You, too, Emma.”
“But Cousin Sophronia,” Emma said, “as I recall, your carriage is the one with the blue—”
“Is that the bolter?” said Aunt Sophronia. Her gaze had fallen upon Zoe.
“Yes, Auntie, and I brought her and her mama here in that—”
“Get in, get in, Emma,” said his aunt. “What are you waiting for? Do you not see the carriages lined up behind us?”
Emma threw Marchmont a panicked look. He gestured her to get into the carriage. With a look of resignation, she obeyed.
“Zoe Octavia,” said Lady Sophronia. “Is that you?”
“Yes, Lady Sophronia.” Zoe managed to negotiate a curtsey while being jostled by the milling crowd.
“Thatwas a curtsey,” said his aunt. “How everyone stared. Most exciting. They should write it down and put it in a book. But we’ve no time at present for snakes. Marchmont will bring you to dine with me. Lady Lexham, if you please. Without swords, we shall fit three comfortably.”
“Please go ahead,” Marchmont told Lady Lexham. “She never admits she’s wrong, and we should be hours redirecting her. Zoe and I will take my aunt’s—that is to say, theothercarriage.”
He saw the other two ladies safely into the carriage and told his coachman to take them all to Lexham House.
