“I can understand that.” Charles drew his brows together in his sternest big-brother expression. “But are you sure that is all that is troubling you?”
Christa wrinkled her nose. “Well, I am not looking forward to running into any members of the beau monde who knew me as a servant. There are only a handful that would recognize me, but it will be embarrassing, and I haven’t yet decided how to deal with that.”
Charles grimaced. “It would certainly damage your reputation if it was known that you stooped to work for a living, particularly as a servant. Genteel starvation would have been much more acceptable. But surely you can play the countess so thoroughly that no one will believe you have ever lifted your dainty hand to anything more strenuous than a handkerchief.”
“I might be able to convince most people that any resemblance to a certain lady’s maid was strictly coincidental,” Christa said with a shrug. “But not my second mistress. We spent too much time together for her not to recognize me.”
“Would she cause trouble for you?”
Christa shook her head decisively. “No. She had a kind heart.” Annabelle would not be a problem—she would probably be enchanted by the romantic story of a lost-and-found countess, and Christa was sure they would be friends under any circumstances.
As for the others, Lady Pomfret was too myopic to recognize her, and most members of the ton that Christa had casually contacted would have scarcely noticed her face. The real obstacle was the Peacock, so soon to become Lady Kingsley. Christa had waited on her for days, and it was likely that even such a self-absorbed creature as Sybil would recognize her.
Even that would have been tolerable; in her countess mode, Christa could outface Sybil. What was unbearable was the thought of seeing Alex, or worse, Alex with his wife. She could face the prospect with equanimity in some distant future, but not yet. No, she would not go into society until he was safely married and gone back to sea.
Charles said thoughtfully, “Do you know, you have never mentioned the names of the people you worked for.” He had the information from Suzanne but was curious how his sister would reply.
“There is no need for names,” Christa said a little too airily. “A proper servant is always discreet about her employers.”
Charles stood, towering over his younger sister. He put a finger under her chin and lifted it so he could see her eyes. “Are you telling me the whole truth, little cabbage?”
Christa gave her gamin smile. “I have told you all I intend, so don’t try to bully me,mon frère, or I will put a frog in your bed.”
He grinned back. “That is supposed to be my threat. How was I to know that when I did that, you would turn the frog into a pet?”
“You should have guessed I would have an affinity for the poor creature. After all, you used to tell me that I looked like a frog.”
Charles blinked at the thought. “So I did. Older brothers can be quite barbarous.”
Christa agreed with a laugh. “True.”
She stood and took his arm. “Shall we see ifMamanand Uncle Lewis are available for tea? If we can find one of them, we shall probably find the other.”
“Very likely,” Charles agreed. “I enjoy watching them together—they are both so happy. It makes me feel like I am of the older generation, and they are the younger.”
“Lewis seems like a wholly different person,” Christa said thoughtfully. “More relaxed, and much more likely to laugh.”
“Mother does have a talent for bringing out the best in people.” He added, “You may not know this, but in England it is against the law for someone to wed the sibling of a deceased spouse. However, most laws can be circumvented, and the fact that Mother is a French citizen should help. If they decide to marry, they can do it somewhere on the Continent. But that is for the future. Shall we see if they are in the morning room?”
* * *
Charles had accepted Christa’s evasions because he knew that more questioning would be useless, but all of his sister’s explanations and obfuscations merely confirmed his view that something was amiss. He would just have to look further to find what it was.
Charles was reluctant to discuss the issue with Marie-Claire, who was enjoying her first real happiness in years. Why worry his mother if there was nothing that could be done?
After lengthy consideration, he decided to visit Christa’s former mistress. His sister had spent months in close proximity with the woman, and perhaps Miss Kingsley would know what had upset her so badly. Or perhaps the lady herself was the cause. Christa had said the woman had a good heart, but that was faint praise—perhaps the good heart lay under a foul temper. An aging spinster might have resented Christa’s youthful attractiveness and made her life miserable.
Charles chose a sunny day in February to make his call, reasoning that everyone was better natured in bright weather, and since it was unfashionably early, there were unlikely to be other callers to disturb the discussion. The earl had a matter-of-fact awareness that most women were kindly disposed to him, but old ladies were usually starched up and unlikely to welcome calls from total strangers, no matter how wellborn.
At Kingsley House the butler admitted him with impassive mien and took his card up to Miss Kingsley. Charles rose when the parlor door opened, then simply stood and stared. It is disconcerting to confront a mermaid when one has been expecting an old trout, and the blond young woman who entered was so lovely that he temporarily forgot his mission.
Miss Kingsley carried his card, and her delicate face was knit in puzzlement. “Forgive me, my lord. Have I had the pleasure of meeting you, perhaps at one of those dreadful squeezes last autumn?”
She glanced at his face, then blushed at his expression. He really was quite extraordinarily handsome, and without thinking she blurted out, “I can’t imagine that I would forget you!”
At the visitor’s laugh, Annabelle blushed so hard she was sure her ears must be red. He shook his head and said, “No, I have not had the honor of an introduction. If I seemed a trifle stunned, it was at your youth and beauty. I met Lord Kingsley some years ago and had assumed his sister would be much older.”
Annabelle’s brow cleared and she gave an enchanting smile. “You must have known my father. My brother Alex succeeded him two years ago. He is about your age.” She dragged her gaze from his face, then said daringly, “I was just about to have tea. Will you join me?”
