The Husband Mission (The Spy Matchmaker #1)(7)
"Sir Richard then," he said agreeably, but she heard the steel in his voice. She also heard the stair door bump open and the murmur of sympathetic voices.
"Indisposed," she snapped. "Your card, sir?"
He also stood on tiptoe, ducking to the left. "Will he be available tomorrow?"
She pulled the door closed against her to prevent him from seeing more than the top of the stair. Behind her, she heard Bixby call a caution and her uncle's voice answer sharply.
"Yes, fine," she barked out. "Three o'clock. Good day, Lord Borin."
And she snapped shut the door before he could argue.
Chapter Three
Alex blinked as the door snapped shut. Singular woman. He found himself intrigued, and he didn't even know her name.
But she evidently knew his. Of course, he was a common fixture in social circles, so it wasn't entirely surprising she would recognize him. What was more surprising was that he didn't recognize her. He thought he knew every pretty girl who'd been out the last few Seasons, if only so he could avoid their matchmaking mamas.
He descended the stair. Of course, she wasn't in the common way. Her thick coil of auburn hair nearly dwarfed her elfin face. The dress she wore had been severe enough for a governess, but the clean lines somehow drew his attention to her slender curves. She was also petite, coming only to his collarbone if one counted the knot of hair on top of her head. She looked as insubstantial as eider down and far too young to be the lady of the house for her stepsister Miss Templeman. She did look old enough, however, to be ready for marriage. Yet there had been no wedding band on those slender fingers.
Unfortunately, for all she intrigued him, she hadn't been very helpful. He knew little more about the household than when he had followed his shadow here. But he had twenty-four hours. What could an enterprising gentleman learn in that time? Setting his top hat at a jaunty angle, he set forth to find out.
–
It was evening before Katherine had a moment to consider the next steps in her plan for her stepsister. First, she made sure Sir Richard was busy with Constance as her stepsister rested from her "accident."
"Why do I feel you had a hand in this, Colonel?" her uncle asked Katherine when she slipped into the bedroom she shared with her stepsister to check on them.
She smiled at his pet name for her. "Do you think I would trip my dearest stepsister down the stairs, Uncle? I was with you at the time, if you recall."
"I recall. I also recall my intentions at the time. A simple word of warning would have been sufficient, girl. You need not cozen me into doing the right thing."
She did not point out that she had tried to stop him with words. He had not been in a mood to recognize subtlety. Besides, she knew her attempts to manage things annoyed him. But if he wouldn't take responsibility for the family, what else was she to do?
Now was no exception. She had thought Constance might keep him safely by her side. All too soon, however, he complained of the pain in his leg and hobbled off to his study. Certain of what her uncle intended, Katherine intercepted Bixby on his way up with a tray. She raised a brow at the crystal decanter.
"Watered down two to one, just as you ordered," her man promised with a nod of his balding head. "And Emma has popovers in the oven, Sir Richard's favorite."
Katherine returned the nod. "Good. Perhaps if we can fill his stomach with food, he will have no room for the liquor."
"Worth a try," Bixby replied. "Don't you give up on him, Miss Katherine. He's just fallen into a funk. Pride of the regiment, your uncle was once. Wasn't a man in the unit who wouldn't have traded places with him."
"I know," Katherine murmured. "Perhaps once Constance is safely wed we can turn our attentions to finding him something more worthwhile to pursue than the fastest way to empty a bottle. In the meantime, when you're done with Sir Richard, and Emma is free, join me in our bedchamber, will you? We shall need several new plans if Mr. Perry continues his attacks on Wellington."
"I wish Sir Richard would just read a different paper," her man muttered, but he hurried off to complete his duties.
Katherine could not argue with him. Unfortunately, she'd already tried that tact. Her uncle insisted on The Chronicle. The few occasions when it had failed to appear on their doorstep he had stomped out to find a copy. They had to try something else to keep him from maiming the good editor.
But when they all gathered in the bedchamber, Katherine discovered that no one had any other ideas.