His face fell. “Not at all. I thought I was doing them a favor. I gave them both more money than they make in six months’ time.”
“You cannot buy everything,” Marianne pointed out, her fist clenching in her skirts.
“I cannot help it that I have money, any more than they can help it that they don’t. What would you have me do with my money, if not use it for such things?”
“I’m certain I don’t know. I’ve never been wealthy.” She felt a bit waspish after his perfectly reasonable explanation about not being able to help the fact that he had money.
Obviously deciding to change the subject, he gave her a serious look. “Are you that unhappy at the prospect of riding to London with me alone?”
Marianne glanced out the window, contemplating his words for a few moments. The ride to London from Lord Copperpot’s estate would take half the day. She doubted they would stay alone in the carriage the entire time, but something about the idea of being so near him, so alone with him, did give Marianne pause.
The truth was that she didn’t trust herself alone with him. She’d made certain over the last several weeks that they never spent time alone, apart from their weekly briefings in the servants’ staircase. And those meetings were safe enough because they were over quickly.
However, there were nights, a score of them at least, where it had taken every bit of strength she had to keep herself from going to him, begging him to make love to her again.
She didn’t go for two reasons. First, she had been the one to suggest that they keep things strictly professional between them. If she arrived in his room, ready to toss over that pronouncement, she’d look a fool. And second, there was no way a rekindled affair between them could end happily. It would only serve to break her heart. The man was a marquess, and she was a servant. It wasn’t as if they could ever marry. No. The closer she was to Beau, the more difficult it would be when the time came to break things off completely. And she fully intended to have her heart intact when that time came.
“Well? I assume you wanted to speak to me alone, or you wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble and expense,” she said as the coach rumbled along the dirt road toward the front of the estate.
“You assumed correctly.” Beau cleared his throat. “We… we need to make a plan, for what we’ll do when we are in London. Lord Hightower and Lord Cunningham will both be at the ball, and some of the guests may spend the night, even if they have town houses themselves. It’s not uncommon.”
Marianne’s foolish hope that he’d wanted to ride alone with her in order to tell her something personal—such as that he longed for her, that he couldn’t stand to not kiss her again—died a quick death. She shook her head and sat up straight, taking a deep breath. Very well. If he wanted to talk about their mission, she could do that.
“I agree. In fact, I asked Wilhelmina if she knew of anyone else spending the night at the town house. She said she wasn’t certain.”
“No matter. We’ll find out when we arrive.”
“Very well,” Marianne agreed. “What should we do the night of the ball?”
“It’ll be important to watch for any interactions between Lords Copperpot, Hightower, and Cunningham. I’ll be especially curious to watch Hightower and Cunningham.”
“Yes, I agree that Lord Copperpot isn’t our culprit.”
Beau plucked at his lip. “Is there anywhere in Copperpot’s London house where we can surreptitiously watch the proceedings in the ballroom? If either of the other two men see me, they might recognize me.”
Marianne felt her cheeks heat. Indeed, there was such a place, but she didn’t want to admit how she knew. She had often sneaked to the small alcove above the musician’s stage in the ballroom to watch the dancing. She so enjoyed the music and the gowns and the lovely spread of refreshments and the tables full of flowers. On the handful of occasions last spring when the Copperpots had held a ball or a large party in the ballroom, Marianne had enjoyed nothing so much as quietly watching from the alcove.
“I do know of a place,” she said, pressing her lips together. “I’ll show you.”
Beau nodded. “You watch Lord Cunningham. I’ll watch Lord Hightower.”
“Very well, but you’ll have to point out Lord Cunningham to me. Unlike you, I’ve never met either of them before.”
Beau nodded again. “I will point them out.”
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, each staring out the opposite coach window as the landscape moved past. Autumn was slowly arriving in the English countryside and the leaves had begun to change colors.
Finally, Beau cleared his throat. “What are the housing arrangements at Copperpot’s London town home? For servants, I mean.”
Marianne swallowed. “Much like the estate, the upper servants are housed in private rooms on the fourth floor. The family is on the second floor and the guests are on the third.”
Beau arched a brow. “Are the upper servants separated by sex?”
“The women are on the right and the men are on the left, if that’s what you mean.”
“A pity,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why is it a pity?” Even as she asked the question, she knew she would soon come to regret it. But she couldn’t help herself all the same.
