The man in the portrait must have been Lord Tottenham, frozen in his youthful likeness. He had a warm disposition, large blue eyes, and a long nose. He looked intelligent, cheerful, with just enough eccentricity to be compatible with his wife. She stared at his portrait for a long moment before coughing into her elbow. She drew a rattling breath. “To honor him, I have gone to great lengths to arrange a series of games to take place during the next month. These games are not what you might expect from a London house party. In my invitation, I stated that rules must be followed. If you are not prepared to play my games as they are intended to be played in my husband’s honor, you may choose to leave.” She took a step closer to the line of guests. Her skirts rustled in the silence. “If you break the rules, you will beforcedto leave.” Her sharp eyes danced over every face in the room. “As the weeks progress, the games will become more difficult. The stakes will be higher. You must keep your eyes open at all times—for the entire house party itself is a game.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Search for clues at every turn, for at the end, there will be a prize.”
A ripple of whispers flooded the room. Her cryptic words hung in the air. Those who had been invited to the midnight game the night before were under the impression that the house party was a matchmaking scheme. Perhaps it still was. The gathering seemed to have multiple purposes, and keeping them straight was going to prove difficult. The entire house party was a game? What the devil could she mean by that?
There were two reactions amongst the guests. Concern and delight. Miss Octavia Colborne, one of the twin sisters in attendance, wore an alarming grin. Her sister’s expression was more reserved.
I glanced at Anne. Her cheeks were pale.
“The game we will be playing today is my variation of Buffy Gruffy.” Lady Tottenham gestured at the circle of chairs. “In an orderly fashion, please come take a seat.”
Lady Tottenham’svariationcould never be a good thing. I recalled that there were only thirteen chairs, yet there were fourteen guests. Anne seemed to have noticed the same thing, because she rushed toward the circle. Before I knew what had happened, she was already in a chair. I hurried forward and claimed one on the other side.
The last person standing was Miss Octavia. She looked nearly identical to her twin sister Miss Victoria. Both young ladies had blonde curls, icy blue eyes, and slightly upturned noses. The only differences that set them apart were the color choices of their wardrobes and jewelry. Octavia dressed in an extravagant manner that was similar to Lady Tottenham, which already seemed to have won her favor.
“Miss Octavia.” Lady Tottenham beamed. “You have failed to obtain a seat in the circle. That means you will be the first to play the game.”
Octavia covered her mouth with her gloved fingers and laughed. “Oh, dear.” She blinked innocently. Mrs. Pike, her widowed aunt and chaperone, wore a look of concern. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Octavia had found herself in the center of the circle on purpose.
Lady Tottenham stepped up behind Octavia and draped a yellow blindfold over her eyes. She secured it with a knot in the back. With one hand on her shoulder, she spoke the rules close to her ear, but loud enough for all to hear. “Those in the circle will move when I clap my hands together. When I clap again, they must stop and sit in the nearest chair. Miss Octavia will stop in front of a chair of her choice without knowing who occupies it. She may ask three questions in an attempt to discern the person’s identity, with the exception of asking their name. The person in the chair may disguise their voice, but they must answer the questions honestly. She may also touch the person in an attempt to discover their identity. If she guesses correctly, she may ask for one of three rewards. She may ask for a kiss, a secret, or a flattery, after which, the player will replace her at the center of the circle.”
From behind the blindfold, Miss Octavia’s face lit up with a grin.
I met Anne’s gaze from across the circle. Would every game at this party involve kissing? I nearly laughed when I noticed that Lord Kirkham had managed to plant himself in the seat beside her. I had to admire his determination.
Lady Tottenham clapped, the sound echoing off the six walls of the room. We all stood, rearranging ourselves until Lady Tottenham clapped again.
Octavia staggered forward, walking in a diagonal line until she collided with my knee. Instinctively, I reached out to steady her. Her hands clasped onto my forearms, and her grin widened. “Who might this be?” she asked amidst a giggle. “Certainly a gentleman.”
Her hands traced up my arms, squeezing periodically. “A strong one.”
Several ladies in the room giggled along with her. I held perfectly still, staring at the plasterwork on the ceiling. I had never had a conversation with Octavia, so I trusted she wouldn’t recognize my voice. I doubted she knew enough about me to learn anything from the answers to her questions. I held my breath as she ran her fingers over my hair. There were several balding men in the circle, so she had just eliminated at least half.
“Is your hair dark or light, sir?” she asked.
“Dark.” It was clever to ask questions based on the person’s appearance. She would have me narrowed down quickly if she continued. Her hands shifted down to my face. She ran her hands over the overgrown scruff on my jaw and cheeks.
Mrs. Pike sat on the edge of her chair, eyes round with mortification.
“How old are you, sir?” Octavia’s grin told me she was already close to discovering my identity.
“Twenty-seven.”
“Are you wearing a blue waistcoat?”
I glanced down at my chest. How had she already noted the color I was wearing? I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
She squealed with delight. “This is Mr. Holland.”
Lady Tottenham applauded, as did the other guests in the circle. “You’re correct, Miss Octavia! You are a clever girl.” Octavia removed her blindfold. Her icy blue eyes settled on my face with triumph. I gave her a congratulatory smile, though my nerves were on edge.
Lady Tottenham motioned toward me, addressing Octavia again. “You may now ask Mr. Holland for a kiss, a secret, or a flattery. Which will it be?”
She tapped her chin. “Lud, I would like all three if I could have them.” Her sister let out a giggle from across the circle. Octavia’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “But if I must choose…I should like a kiss.”
CHAPTER 6
ANNE
Mrs. Pike looked ill. She shook her head at Octavia, but the girl had eyes only for Alexander. I crossed my ankles under my skirts, wringing my hands together in my lap. Alexander must have been pleased with her choice. He did seem like a shameless flirt, and Miss Octavia was quite pretty. She had a significant dowry too—she and her sister had already made that clear during the dinner conversation the night before. Alexander would be wise to woo her, and from the way Octavia was looking at him, I didn’t imagine it would be very difficult.
