“Excellent,” Clayton said, “I’d thought you’d be the last man standing, Bell. I have a much better chance of winning this thing if you’re out first.”
“I am not out first, to my knowledge,” Beau clarified, “and if I am, I have you to blame for it.”
Clayton blinked and took a step back. “What do you mean?”
Beau shook his head. “I mean, thanks to you coming to my door last night and practically shouting about my identity for the entire floor to hear, one of the maids asked me about it.”
“Oh, no. Remind me what I said,” Clayton said, wincing.
Beau arched a brow. “You said, ‘There you are, Bell. Still playacting at being a valet?’”
“No!” Clayton gasped. “Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine.”
“Too late now,” Beau replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Who overheard me?” Clayton wanted to know next.
“A Miss Marianne Notley,” Beau replied. Until he knew her true identity there was no use telling his friends that she wasn’t who she said she was. Besides, if he wanted her to keep his secret, he needed to keep hers too.
Kendall frowned. “The maid who’s been driving you to distraction?”
The earl didn’t know the half of it. “The very same,” Beau replied with a tight smile.
“Oh, that’s excellent.” Worth’s crack of laughter bounced off the wooden bookshelves behind Clayton’s desk.
“I fail to see the excellence in it,” Beau replied, giving his friend a disgruntled stare.
Worth slid into one of the club chairs in front of the desk. “The woman who’s been mistrustful and doubting is the one who’s learned you’re not who you say you are. I’d say that’s about as perfect as it could be.”
“I’m glad you’re finding humor in this, at least.” Beau shook his head.
“Is she going to tell anyone?” Kendall asked, pacing in front of the fireplace.
“I’m not certain,” Beau replied. “That’s why I said IbelieveI’m still in the game.”
“Hmm.” Clayton smoothed his hands down his sapphire vest. “This does complicate things. I’m sorry to have been so loud, Bell.”
“I must find her and ask her if she intends to tell anyone,” Bell replied with a sigh.
“How do you know she knows, if you haven’t spoken to her?” Worth asked, his forehead crinkled into a frown.
“Let’s just say, she made it clear she knows, but we haven’t, ahem, discussed the finer points of the matter,” Beau replied.
All three men arched their brows at him.
“Very well,” Kendall replied. “We’ll wait to hear from you. What else have you learned, Bell? About the traitors?”
“Very little I’m afraid,” Beau replied, shaking his head. “But I’ve set up a dinner tonight on the fourth floor. Only upper servants will attend. Mr. Wilson will be there. I have some important questions for him.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Marianne could tell that Nicholas had been trying to get her alone all day. But the weather had been particularly uncooperative, so the Copperpots had spent most of the day indoors needing nearly constant attention from their servants.
Marianne and Nicholas passed each only while bringing breakfasts and seeing to the sitting rooms, but they’d never had an opportunity to speak. And, truth be told, Marianne was somewhat enjoying the man’s obvious angst. After what he’d done to her last night, setting her out in the corridor like yesterday’s milk bottle, he deserved a bit of stewing himself.
Now they were at an upper servants’ dinner on the fourth floor in a large sitting room attached to Mrs. Cotswold’s bedchamber. The lower servants were busily hustling food and wine up and down the servants’ staircase from the basement.
Marianne had made the mistake of sitting next to Mr. Wilson, Lord Cunningham’s valet. He was nearly as much fun to talk to as a lamppost. She’d exhausted her set of questions asking him everything from how often he traveled with his lordship to whether they’d been to the Continent any time recently.
