A deep booming laugh vibrated the door. Not Julius’s. Although he seemed as excited by the prospect of breaking into Hanford’s home as the rest of them. Almost as though it were a schoolboy prank.
She would never understand men.
A floorboard creaked down the hall, and Amanda threw herself against the wall by the door, fiddling with the small heel on her slipper. Whoever it was turned down another corridor, and she eased back into position.
With one cheek pressed against the wood, she kept her eyes trained at the far end of the hall. A disagreement had broken out of how best to remove Hanford from his house that night. Amanda narrowed her eyes. It sounded as though Julius was telling someone he couldn’t start a fire and smoke him out. Though why anyone would need to be told that, Amanda didn’t know.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Spinning, Amanda’s slippers went flying. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek.
Lady Mary tilted her head. “Whatever are you doing, dear?”
“How did you … where did you …?” Pressing a hand to her chest, Amanda tried to slow the beating of her heart.
“I came down the back stairs.”
A draught of air shifted Amanda’s skirts. Biting her lip, she turned again. Julius held open the door, an eyebrow disappearing under his hair. Her shriek hadn’t been as muffled as she’d hoped.
Amanda patted her bun. This one had turned out rather neatly. Julius had improved in his duties as lady’s maid. “Good morning.” She tried to look around him. “We were just walking past and I saw, uh, a mouse.”
“A mouse,” Julius drawled.
Amanda lifted her chin. “Yes. And in the home of a duke it was all the more shocking.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “Do you have company? Shall I call for some tea?”
The other side of the door swung inward. “Some tea would be lovely,” said the man holding the handle. Amanda fell back a step. Julius’s friend was stunning in his beauty, his face a study in symmetry. Cobalt blue eyes assessed her from under a crop of artfully-mussed blond curls. But it was his clothes that Amanda couldn’t drag her gaze from. They were as colorful as a field of wildflowers. He stood out like a peacock.
The man looked behind her, and his eyes lit up. “Auntie May! How marvelous to see you.”
Two other men crowded forwards. One, Amanda knew. The Baron of Sutton nodded at her, his thick bush of a beard as unruly as it had been at The Black Rose. The other man could only be the Marquess of Dunkeld. His long auburn hair whispered of the Highlands. It was longer than fashionable and tied back with a black ribbon. But it was his massive size that gave him away. Julius had done a fair job of describing his friends. Which meant the peacock was—
“Johnnie, how many times have I told you not to call me Auntie?” Lady Mary shook her head, but her cheeks pinkened with delight. “I have enough problems with my real nephew. I don’t need to add the Earl of Summerset onto my list.”
Summerset took the older woman’s hand and kissed her cheek. “When you stop calling me Johnnie, I’ll quit calling you Auntie.”
Lady Mary sniffed. “Impertinent boy.”
Summerset led her into the library. “Besides, I spent more time at your house in London with Marcus when I was just a young lad than I did with any of my own family members.”
“You weren’t so young, and if I remember, you were nothing but trouble.” Lady Mary dipped a polite curtsy to Dunkeld and Sutton, and Summerset made the introductions.
Julius quirked one edge of his mouth up and swept his arm towards the room. Amanda minced in. Her skirts were long enough to cover her feet, but only if she stood still. Each step revealed her stockinged toes, and she didn’t know how to explain why she wore no slippers.
Lady Mary took a seat and smoothed her skirts. “What are you boys up to? With Johnnie involved, it must mean trouble.”
The man in question clutched a hand to his lavender silk coat. “I am all that is hurt.”
Dunkeld moved behind him. “You will be if you don’t show me that letter my mother wrote to you.”
“I told you she wrote no letter.”
“And I told you I recognize her handwriting.” The bear of a man flexed his hands, knuckles cracking. “If you and my mother have joined forces to plot against me, I’ll—”
“Not now.” Julius rubbed the back of his neck. He turned to Amanda. “Dunkeld is convinced Summerset is in league with his mother to marry him off. But they can argue about that later.” He pinned the men with glares. “Isn’t that right?”
Dunkeld landed a meaty palm on Summerset’s shoulder, and the poor man staggered. “Fine,” the big man said, his voice as icy as a Scottish moor. He bared his teeth at Summerset.
Lady Mary clapped her hands together. “Well, now that it’s settled that Johnnie shall be murdered later rather than sooner, you can tell us what it is you boys are up to.”
The sound of a mantle clock ticking became very loud.
