“Tell me, Miss Somerset. How will you persuade Lady Bagshot I’m not a murderer?”
Lachlan Ramsey sat across from her in Lady Chase’s carriage, his enormous hands folded over the head of his walking stick, doubt written in every line of his handsome face—
Handsome face?
Hyacinth blinked. Lachlan Ramsey was imposing, yes. Frightening, certainly. But handsome? Perhaps some ladies might think so—the sort of ladies who found a dark scowl attractive, for instance, but—
“You may be a favorite with her, but that alone won’t be enough. You have less than half an hour today to make her invite us to her ball, reveal Lord Huntington is our brother, and persuade her I’m not a murderer.”
Hyacinth twisted her hands in her lap and tried to breathe through her rising panic. How in the world would she manage to stammer her way through all of that without making a mess of it? The minute Lady Bagshot’s beady eye was upon her, she was sure to collapse like a house of sand—
“Well, Miss Somerset?”
Hyacinth frowned at him. Was this why he’d insisted on accompanying her and Isla to Lady Bagshot’s townhouse? So he could quiz her in the carriage, and then prevent them from making the call if he didn’t care for her answers?
And hedidn’tcare for them—that much was plain to see. The black scowl was already gathering on his brow like an incoming thunderstorm. “I, ah, thought I’d determine the best way to proceed once we arrived.”
Lachlan drummed his fingers against the head of his walking stick, his face grim. “But what if you become...how did your sister put it?Overwrought? If you get nervous or hesitate, it could make things worse.”
Hyacinth arched a brow. “Lady Bagshot thinks you’re a murderer, Mr. Ramsey. I don’t see how it could get any worse.”
“It can always get worse.” He shifted his attention to Isla, who sat next to Hyacinth. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Isla’s mouth pinched with annoyance. “Nonsense. I trust Hyacinth. Stop teasing, Lachlan.”
“We have no choice but to make the call, Mr. Ramsey.” Hyacinth winced when her voice emerged in a timid squeak. Dash it, how could she sound so confident in her own head, but just like a mouse with a boot crushing its tail once the words left her lips?
Lachlan’s dark gaze narrowed on her face, but whatever he saw there didn’t seem to interest him, because his eyes flicked away again at once. “We should wait until Lady Huntington can do it.”
Was that disdain curling his lower lip?
“Even Lady Chase might be a better choice,” he muttered.
Not quietly enough, however, because Hyacinth heard him, and anger began to churn in her stomach. “My grandmother wouldn’t make it past the butler, Mr. Ramsey. She and Lady Bagshot despise each other, and have for years.”
“One of your sisters, then. They’re both calm, steady sorts.”
By that, Hyacinth supposed she was meant to infer she was hysterical and unsteady. But then Lachlan Ramsey certainly had reason to think so, didn’t he? That pricked at her far more than it should, and for reasons she didn’t understand. It wasn’t, after all, as if everyone in London didn’t share his opinion. Evensheshared it, but somehow it niggled at her thatheshould find her lacking.
Well then, give him a reason to think otherwise.
She drew in a quick breath, and then turned away from the window to face him. “My family asked me to make this call for a reason, Mr. Ramsey. I’m her ladyship’s favorite, and more likely than anyone else to be received by her.”
He shrugged. “That makes sense. An arrogant countess like Lady Bagshot is far more likely to favor a quiet, accommodating young lady like yourself.”
Hyacinth’s teeth clenched. “I didn’t become Lady Bagshot’s favorite by being quiet and accommodating. I became her favorite because I know how to manage her. That’s one advantage to being quiet, Mr. Ramsey. I’m not so preoccupied telling everyone else how to behave that I’m too busy to listen.”
Isla laughed. “Bravo, Hyacinth! Well said.”
Hyacinth smiled at her, then darted a look at Lachlan Ramsey to see how he’d taken this set down. She was rather proud of it, really. It wasn’t every day she managed to put a short-tempered giant in his place.
His dark brows lowered, and the scowl his brow had only hinted at earlier had crept over the rest of his face. He might have looked menacing, indeed, but for the hint of appreciation in his eyes.
“Very well said. We’ll see soon enough if your managing skills are as sharp as your tongue.”
Hyacinth only raised her chin in reply, but underneath her cloak, she crossed her fingers.
* * * *
