“Why is that dog making such a racket?” Aunt Marianne cried, putting her hands over her ears.
“I think he hears the carriage,” Nate said, peering out the glass that paneled the pale-blue front door and seeing a yellow chaise snake up the curved pathway.
“Maids, take your places in the kitchen until you are called,” Aunt Marianne said. “And James, stand at the ready to help our guests with their luggage when I direct them to their rooms.”
“Oh, you needn’t bother with all the formalities,” Nate said, yanking open the door. “It’s only Frederick.”
“Bridget, pick up that dog! We can’t have him yapping at our guests’ heels.” Aunt Marianne’s sharp voice sounded behind Nate as he strode outside to meet his friend. Despite the order, Bijou dashed after Nate and ran circles around the parked carriage, barking as though he’d explode from excitement. Nate thought he might burst from happiness himself as his friend stepped out of his chaise.
“Squires, old boy, how we’ve missed you in London.”
“Believe me, I have missed London and all of you too.” He opened his arms to embrace his friend but took a step back when he saw a woman climbing out of Frederick’s carriage. She wore a peacock-blue dress, high-waisted and low cut in the neckline to reveal her ample bosom, and had a noticeable amount of makeup on her face—a pretty face to be sure—but not one that exuded innocence. She’d arranged her light-brown curls in a sort of hive atop her head, and faux diamond earrings dangled from her ears.
“May I introduce Miss Bouffant?” Frederick said.
Nate bowed in greeting. “What a pleasant surprise,” he said through gritted teeth. Miss Bouffant was no guest. He knew a courtesan when he saw one.
“Mr. Squires.” Aunt Marianne strode forward, holding her list of guests. “May we show our guests to their rooms? They must be tired after their journey. Let’s see”—she consulted her list—“who do wehave here?”
“Lord John Frederick, madam.” He removed his hat and bowed, which seemed to please Aunt Marianne. She gave him a tight smile and nodded.
“Ah, yes. Your room is ready, sir.” Then she looked expectantly at his companion. “Is this Lady Frederick?” she asked coldly.
“This is Miss Bouffant,” Frederick said.
“How do you do, madam.” The courtesan nodded in greeting.
Aunt Marianne frowned as she studied her list. “No, I don’t see her as being invited to stay.”
“That’s becauseIinvited her,” Frederick said.
Aunt Marianne blinked. “Well, I…” She turned, stony-faced, to Nate.
“You don’t mind, do you, Squires, old chap?” Frederick slapped Nate on the back.
He wanted to wring Frederick’s neck, but he forced a smile and turned to Aunt Marianne. “Surely, we have an extra room for a last-minute guest,” he said, even though he knew full well they were nowhere near full capacity and had plenty of extra space.
“That’s not possible. We don’t have—”
“She can stay with me if there’s a lack of rooms,” Frederick suggested.
Aunt Marianne stiffened. “This way, Miss Bouffant,” she said. “I’m sure we can find something suitable for you.”
Miss Bouffant grinned at Frederick and followed Aunt Marianne.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing bringing a courtesan with you?” Nate hissed when the women were out of earshot.
“She’s not a courtesan. She’s an actress.”
Nate folded his arms. “Do you take me for an idiot?”
“Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud. I only came here to cheer you up and inject some life into your country exile.”
“Is that so? I daresay I’m flattered.”
“To be honest, it was Dodsworth who badgered me into coming—he kept carrying on about how peaceful and lovely it would be—waving his copy of Wordsworth’s latest guidebook in my face. I only agreed because I wanted to shut him up and see you, of course. But you can’t begrudge me an actress or two for company. I wouldn’t have come if I’d known two months in the land of the poets would turn you into a sap.”
“It’s not a sap to want one’s home to be respected,” Nate said. “You wouldn’t bring a courtesan to someone’s country estate, would you?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Of course, you would.”
