“And quite right, too,” said Cook. “And I shall not tolerate gossip, so be about your work.”
The cook had been busy filling a teapot from a boiling kettle, placing it on a tray with cups, saucers, and plates. She now added a plate that her assistant had filled with morsels from the tins of baked goods she kept in the pantry. She brought the results to Kat. “Here is your lady’s tray, Mr. Fivepence.”
“Thank you, Cook,” Kat said. “It all looks delicious.”
Cook must have assumed that Captain Harraway was still in the house, for she’d provided two cups, saucers, and plates.All to the good. Kat was ready for a cup of tea, and the little sponge cakes looked delicious.
She carried the tray up to Miss Ellen’s little private sitting room, where she found Miss Ellen, Mrs. Kirby, and the manor’s seamstress, Mrs. Martin, waiting for her. The seamstress was running her measuring tape between her fingers.
“Kat, I want you in skirts for my wedding,” said Miss Ellen. “You shall be my witness, my dear. And you also need new gowns suitable for the lady’s maid of Carr Abbas.”
“You have a greater need of new gowns than I, Lady Ellen,” Kat protested, though her heart skipped at the thought of Jake seeing her in a gown cut to fit her properly.
“And I shall have them, dear Kat,” replied her mistress. “Mrs. Martin shall explain.”
“I know of a place that sells partly-made gowns, Miss Fivepence,” said Mrs. Martin. “It is in London, but with your measurements and Lady Ellen’s, I can select garments that will need only minor adjustment and finishing.”
“Captain Harraway will send Mrs. Martin into London tomorrow,” said Miss Ellen, with a smile that set Kat thinking about cats and cream pots. “Once she returns, we shall be fitted, and Mrs. Martin will have all the help she needs to complete the work.”
“Several of the maids are deft with their needles,” Mrs. Kirby explained.
“I can sew,” Kat offered. It was not her favorite activity, but accuracy and speed had been beaten into her.
“You cannot sew ladies’ garments while pretending to be a man,” Mrs. Kirby pointed out. “Mrs. Martin will keep your secret, but for the next few days, you cannot leave your mask behind. We cannot have people gossiping about our mistress before she is safely married to the master.”
Which was true, and Kat would never do anything that might hurtMiss Ellen. Besides, it was not for long. The masquerade was nearly over. In four days, she would be abandoning breeches and boots. In some ways, she looked forward to wearing skirts again. But she would miss the freedom of a male appearance, and she’d miss the boots.
“If I may take your measurements, Miss Fivepence?” Mrs. Martin asked.
Mrs. Martin hadnearly finished when the first footman came upstairs to announce a visitor. From behind the dressing screen where Kat stood on a stool while Mrs. Martin measured her from her waist to her ankles, Kat heard him say, “A Lieutenant Waterford, my lady. He says he has a message for the Lady of Carr Abbas.”
“I suppose I had better see him,” said Miss Ellen.
“Tell him Lady Ellen is in a meeting with her dressmaker, but will see him shortly,” Kat told the footman. “My lady, I shall come down with you. Mrs. Martin, do you have everything you need?”
“Yes, yes,” said the seamstress. “You can dress again, Mr. Fivepence.”
Good enough. Kat had no intention of allowing her Miss Ellen to meet a stranger without Kat being there to protect her. “I shall be right with you, my lady.”
A few minutes later, they entered the small parlor that was used for visitors who were not well enough known to be invited into the drawing room. Lieutenant Waterford lumbered to his feet. The man had perhaps once been handsome, but he was now seriously overweight, and the lines on his face indicated a chronically sour disposition.
Nonetheless, he attempted a charming smile, thoughthe curve of his lips did not accord with the calculation in his eyes. “Do I have the honor of addressing the Lady of Carr Abbas?” he asked.
“I am she,” Miss Ellen replied. She took a chair and invited Waterford to be seated.
He wasted no time in getting to the point. “My lady, I understand you have recently become betrothed—through the machinations of the Black Widow of Whitehall—to one Captain Harraway. I know the man well, my lady, and I felt it incumbent upon me to come to warn you. You have been taken in by a wolf in sheep’s clothing. What part Mrs. Dove-Lyon played in this, I cannot be certain. Perhaps she, too, was a victim of Harraway’s blandishments but I understand that he paid her in order to have the opportunity to cozen an innocent lady.”
Miss Ellen rose to the occasion, with a simple, “For what purpose?”
Well done, Miss Ellen. Give the man enough rope to hang himself.
“Why, my lady. Is it not obvious? You have a thriving estate, a gracious manor… and he is a penniless out-of-work soldier.”
Even a child would question how a penniless man had produced a bribe large enough to tempt the famous matchmaker.Kat kept the thought to herself. Footmen didn’t typically break into conversation between their mistress and a visitor. Besides, Miss Ellen knew, none better, that the so-called penniless soldier was the owner of the estate, and not her. This visitor didn’t, clearly, but he had no chance of bamboozling Kat’s lady.
“I see,” said Miss Ellen. “Thank you for coming to tell me, Lieutenant Waterford.”
The man bowed, and Kat heard something creak. Was it a corset, perhaps? “It was my duty, my lady.”
