“You’re quite nonsensical over this chit, aren’t you? Can’t say I envy you. Rotten mess, all of it,” Heathcliff replied cynically.
“Ah, yes, your sour grapes. How is the young ward you are so generously taking in?” Lucas asked, winding up for his next part of the plan—unbeknownst to his friend.
“A bloody nightmare. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a governess who doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out? I’m not expecting to be around either her or the girl much, but I don’t want to slit my wrists when I am, if you catch my meaning.”
Lucas chuckled. “Then I bring you some great news.”
“You’ve found a way to remove me from guardianship?” Heathcliff asked hopefully.
“No. I found you a governess. She’s knowledgeable, well educated, and beautiful. But I need your word that you will not touch her . . . this is not the sort of help you take a tumble with, am I understood?”
“Look who is becoming all honorable!” Heathcliff chuckled. “Where is this untouchable governess?”
“I can’t tell you. But I can deliver her to your estate in Scotland within a week,” Lucas added quietly, as if imparting a secret.
“Why the secrecy?” Heathcliff asked suspiciously. “She some battered wife and I’ll be challenged to a duel for taking her in?”
“No, just a lady whose situation has recently changed, and she needs employment—proper employment,” Lucas added significantly.
Heathcliff nodded. “I see. She has experience?”
“Yes, of the best variety,” Lucas replied.
“Very well. What’s this mysterious governess’s name?” he asked.
Lucas paused, his mind going into overdrive. He hadn’t thought of an alias for Liliah’s sister.
“She has a name, hasn’t she?” Heathcliff asked.
“Miranda,” Lucas replied. “Miranda Smythe.”
Heathcliff arched a brow, surely questioning Lucas’s honesty, but he simply nodded. “I don’t want any more details. The less I know, the better. Just have the girl there so the ward is under some direction.”
“Very good.” Lucas nodded, rocking back on his heels. “And, one more matter of business.”
“Bloody hell, how much can one man do in a day?” Heathcliff grumbled.
“I need you to task Ramsey with overseeing the end-of-the-season masquerade. We often close for the duration of the winter, but I doubt I’ll be around for the last event—as I’ll be celebrating in a quite enthusiastic way with my wife.” He grinned wildly.
“Dear Lord. Very well. Anything else? A kingdom?”
“No, that will be all today.” Lucas nodded.
“I wish you luck, my friend. And keep in touch, if I don’t see you till the next season,” Heathcliff said with an earnest smile.
“Upon my word,” Lucas replied, then quit the room with a wide smile.
His to-do list had just grown significantly smaller.
He only hoped that Liliah could get her sister to write the letter.
And agree to the plan.
Only time would answer all the questions.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Liliah wiped her damp hands on her gown before tugging on her soft kid gloves. So far everything had gone according to plan. Her gaze flickered to the reticule she planned to carry to the modiste’s, and tucked inside was the letter her sister had written according to Luc’s specifications.
