Surely, a monk should know better than to sip a mysterious elixir from an ancient flask?
One would think so, but Medardus, in a moment of what Phee could only call acute madness, had just swallowed a worrying amount of the devil’s elixir!
Well, no good would come ofthat, would it?
She flipped to the next page, and… ah ha! It was just as she’d thought. That one tiny sip had resulted in hallucinations, insanity, lust, murder, and all manner of wickedness. In the space of a single page, poor Medardus had quite lost his mind! What would become of the beautiful Aurelie now? How would Medardus evade his murderous twin, or defeat the sinister curse afflicting his family, or?—
“Phee? Phee, are you here?”
Dash it. She’d just gotten to the best part!
“Phee, where are you?”
She sank lower in her chair as light footsteps hurried down the hallway. If someone should come in, they wouldn’t be able to see the top of her head from the doorway, and they might go about their business and leave her alone with Medardus.
An instant later the library door flew open, and Harriett’s cheerful voice shattered the quiet. “Oh, there you are, Phee. You must come at once!”
“Must I?” She smothered a sigh, and slipped a bit of paper between the pages ofThe Devil’s Elixirto mark her place. At this rate, poor Medardus was destined to languish in a psychosis forever. “What’s happened now? Have the goats gotten into Lady Fosberry’s rose gardens again?”
“No, no. My aunt has arranged a surprise for me, and it’s ever so much fun!” Harriett darted across the room, and seized her hand. “Come and see for yourself.”
“Yes, alright.” Phee cast one final, longing glance at her book, but she let Harriett tug her from her chair and hurry her down the hallway, through the dining room, and out the terrace door to the south lawn.
There, she came to an abrupt stop.
“My goodness, where did all these people come from?” There were at least two dozen of them meandering about, bright spots of color against the rolling ribbon of velvety green.
“My aunt said it was a shame not to take advantage of the lovely warm weather, so she put together a game of lawn bowls! It’s just a few of our neighbors and some other friends. Isn’t it delightful? My aunt is making up the teams. You’ll play with me, won’t you, Phee?”
She glanced over the knots of people scattered across Lady Fosberry’s lawn. There’d been a time when she’d been rather good at lawn bowls, but that had been ages ago, and even then, she’d only ever played with family.
There were one or two familiar faces in the crowd gathered on the lawn, but most of the guests were strangers to her, and all of them terribly fashionable. The idea of all those prying eyes on her made a shudder roll down her back. “Perhaps later, dearest. I believe I’ll just observe for now.”
“Oh. Alright, then.” Harriett’s excitement dimmed for an instant, but then she glanced over Phee’s shoulder, and brightened again at once. “You’ll play, won’t you, James?”
Phee jerked around, and there was Lord Fairmont, lounging against the stone wall beside a refreshments table that had been set up on the terrace. “Of course I’ll play, Hattie, if you wish it.”
“Wonderful! Aunt,” Harriett called, as she skipped down the stairs. “James and I will make up a team!”
He didn’t follow after Harriett, but strolled lazily toward her, his blue eyes inscrutable as they took in her plain, gray day dress with a thoroughness that made her squirm.
“Good morning, Miss Templeton.”
What in the world was he staring at? It was most uncomfortable, that stare, as if he could see directly through her. “Lord Fairmont.”
“What a pity you won’t join the game, Miss Templeton. Do you not care for bowls? Or is it the company that offends you?”
Who was offended, for pity’s sake? Not her. “I have no objection to either bowls, or to the company, but it’s been ages since I played, and I would be sure to disappoint my partner.”
“I see. And what will you do, while the rest of the party is playing at bowls?”
My, he was curious today, wasn’t he? “I suppose I’ll sit and chat with Lady Fosberry.”
She waved a hand toward one end of the lawn, where a half dozen chairs had been arranged. Lady Fosberry sat atop one of them, a pencil in one hand and a bit of paper in the other, laughing with her guests as she sorted out the teams.
He raised an eyebrow. “You mean to say you prefer to sit all afternoon with a rug over your knees, and a cushion at your back? You’re hardly an elderly maiden aunt, Miss Templeton. There’s no need for you to act like one.”
He didn’t give her a chance to reply, but marched down the terrace steps, leaving her staring after him with her mouth agape. Maiden aunt! Who said she acted like a maiden aunt? God above, he was the rudest man imaginable!
