Page 26 of The Gilded Masquerade

“Yes, Mr. Grayson. All the stable boys, coachmen, and even Mr. Wickham’s son assisted at the manor house for the arrival of the guests.”

“Do you recall the occupants?”

“Some. I mostly took care of the horses.”

“Was there a young gentlewoman in gold?”

“Yes, sir!”

His heart leaped. “In which equipage did she arrive?”

“The grandest, her ladyship’s coach.”

“I see.”

“And did you happen to overhear her name?”

The boy smiled, leaned forward then said, “Her gentleman escort called her Lizzy.”

“Very good!” Scanning again, he settled at the Lambton Inn. Then, checked for the return which had departed for Fairhaven at the close of the ball. He tucked the ledger under his arm. “Thank you, Master Peter.”

“Yes, sir. Don’t forget my hot chocolate.” The boy reminded, rubbing his hands together.

Smiling, he recalled his eagerness to serve when he first arrived at Pemberley as a page. Through the years, that eagerness never abated.

At eleven in the morning, Darcy sat in his recluse—the scene of his crime of passion. Writing in his private journal, he resisted penning his need to apologize to Richard for his moral censure regarding his cousin’s libertinism. Having been repeatedly unkind in his sexual austerity, he shouldn’t have mocked the sensation of holding a refined woman who wanted and desired him, nor the intense, uncontrollable need that compelled a man to adoration outside of marriage. Following last night’s lack of genteel conduct, he was in no position to judge any man for his sexual concupiscence and would make amends tonight over port. Hypocrisy was his abhorrence.

Grayson burst into the library. “Mr. Darcy. Are you within?” he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.

“I am.” Closing the journal, he took a sip of tea, waiting for his valet’s arrival into the reading nook.

“Sir!” Grayson panted, out of breath, cheeks flushed red.

“Good Lord, are you with fever, Grayson?”

“Nipped from the cold is all. I have it!” He panted.

“Please, sit. Catch your breath.”

Grayson swallowed, then procured a ledger from inside his overcoat. “It came at a heavy bargain, but I think you shan’t mind the cost.”

Reaching into his frock coat, he removed his bi-fold.

“Oh no! Her ladyship’s hot chocolate to the stable boy, Peter.”

He chuckled. “That could be arranged.”

“Here,” Grayson panted, holding out the ledger. “They arrived in Lady Anne’s personal carriage … The Lambton Inn … your gentlewoman in gold.”

They arrived in Lady Anne’s personal carriage … The Lambton Inn … your gentlewoman in gold.”

He thoroughly enjoyed the sound of “your gentlewoman.”

“I should have guessed. Well, done, my man, and completed before tea this afternoon.”

“Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure. What is the next step in our scheme?”

“I do believe you enjoyed this errand,” he noted, pleased to see the slight smile upon his valet’s face.