LITMIR.BIZ

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before Mrs. Martin went in to tend Kit, the squire would tender the invitation. Beau had primed both his sister and his brother Kit to press her to accept. He wasn’t above enlisting Catherine, as well, if necessary.

      He already had his niece to thank for one piece of information that, if handled correctly—and he was a master of handling information—should insure Mrs. Martin appeared at the party garbed in evening attire far more attractive than the hideous gowns she normally wore.

      Yes, his niece—who was doubtless at this moment bedeviling the grooms while she waited impatiently for her uncle to arrive.

      Beau took one more look at the door through which Mrs. Martin, with a calm belied by the agitation he’d read in those stark blue eyes, had just disappeared. Soon we will be together, he promised himself and her. Soon.

      * * *

      “Dinner on Friday?” Laura echoed the words in dismay. “That’s very kind of you, Squire Everett, but I thought we agreed my uncertain schedule made it wiser that I not dine in company.” With a nervous glance she surveyed the group who’d greeted her in the small salon when she returned from her walk with Lady Catherine.

      “But ‘tis my farewell party, ma’am,” Dr. MacDonovan argued. “Sure, and you’d not be sending me off with a wave of a bandage roll across our sleeping Kit’s bed?”

      “You’re to leave Saturday?”

      “Aye. I’ve just examined the lad’s lungs again, and it’s clearer still they be. Under your competent care, I’ve little doubt of his eventual recovery, and it’s needed I am back home.”

      “Yes, you must attend, Laura,” Lady Elspeth urged. “I’ve felt so much better the last two days, I can finally envision dining without revulsion. Since I owe that improvement solely to you, you must help me celebrate.”

      “At the risk of putting you off entirely, I confess the party is as much in your honor as the good doctor’s, ma’am,” the squire said. “We owe both of you a great debt, and would like to publicly acknowledge it.”

      “Publicly?” Laura repeated in automatic anxiety.

      “We’ve had the whole neighborhood asking after young Kit and praying with us for his recovery. ‘Tis only fitting that all have the chance to help our distinguished visitors celebrate the good news before their departure.”

      “If ‘tis to be a large party, then you’ll surely not need me. It will make the numbers wrong,” Laura offered.

      “Pish-tosh, Mrs. Martin.” The squire waved away the suggestion. “’Tis not some fancy London party, all standing on precedence. And you need not feel shy. Excepting the earl, Lady Elspeth and the good doctor, ‘twill be only neighbors you’ve dined with on several occasions. Oh, and Lady Ardith and Lord Asquith.”

      Laura looked at the smiling faces—the squire, the doctor, Lady Elspeth. Some inner imperative told her to accept would be dangerous, possibly the most dangerous thing she’d done since coming to the aid of the earl’s wounded brother. But as she had no reason to fear any of her neighbors—even the conceited London beauty Lady Ardith, who scarcely acknowledged her existence—Laura could dredge up no excuse to avoid the party that would not either cause offense or give rise to speculation.

      Surely the earl would be present, too. The thought shimmered through her, adding to both her longing and dismay. Still, she didn’t see how she could avoid this. “You are vastly kind. I shall accept with pleasure.”

      “Oh—m’sister may call upon you to write out the invitations. Her failing eyesight, you know. If that won’t be too much of an imposition?”

      Laura had to smile. Lady Winters, an indolent damsel of some seventy summers, had previously called on Laura to assist her after suffering palpitations at the mere prospect of the work entailed by an evening party. “You may assure your sister I shall be happy to assist her.”

      “Good, good.” The squire patted her hand. “Knew we could count on you. Want to send the doctor off with a good proper party, and with you overseeing the arrangements, I know ‘twill be top of the trees.”

      Though Lady Elspeth, bless her, objected it was not quite right that Laura toil on a party given partly in her own honor, she desisted when Laura assured her that she didn’t mind in the least. Thanking the group again, Laura returned to her room.

      It was only ingrained caution that made her so uneasy. All the guests would be well known to her. Besides, if she handled the arrangements for Lady Winters, she could arrange the dinner partners to suit herself, make a brief appearance in the parlor after the meal, then excuse herself before tea.

      Thinking of the guest list again, she had to laugh at her apprehensions. With Lady Ardith promised to appear, no one would give the dowdy Mrs. Martin a second glance.

      Late the following afternoon, Laura was returning to her room after going over the party lists with Lady Emily when Lady Elspeth hailed her in the hallway. “Please, could you join me for some tea in my sitting room before you rest for tonight? Being reduced to the company of the squire, Lady Winters and my brother at dinner, I sorely miss the conversation of a rational lady.”

      Having on occasion been constrained to be the rambling Lady Emily’s dinner partner, Laura could sympathize. And after a few day’s acquaintance, Laura had largely lost her reserve around Lady Elspeth. Here was a friend in truth, one who, even should she learn of Laura’s deception—not that she ever intended to reveal it—would not, Laura felt sure, betray her. And she sincerely enjoyed the company of the earl’s charming, cheerful sister.

      “I should be delighted.”

      Laura entered to take the seat indicated on the brocade flowered sofa while Lady Elspeth poured tea. After handing her a cup, her friend gave her a measuring glance.

      “I happened to notice that, though you agreed to help Lady Winters, you didn’t seem particularly pleased to accept the squire’s invitation to dine.”

      Laura sighed. “I’m afraid I’m painfully shy in company, a fault I’ve never managed to overcome.”

      “Please don’t be offended, but do you hesitate for fear that, with the very fashionable Lady Ardith attending, you feel you do not possess a suitable gown?”

      Laura laughed.’ ‘I certainly possess nothing cut up—or should we say ‘down'—to Lady Ardith’s standards.”

      “I should hope not,” Lady Elspeth agreed with a chuckle. “But I wanted to ask a favor. I brought with me a new dinner gown just received from the mantuamaker that I’ve never worn, and now I find I cannot. If God wills, and I carry this child, by the time I visit London again fashions will have changed. Though I hope I’m not as vain as Lady Ardith, I doubt I’d wear it then. The color is a lovely green, and would suit you. Would you accept it?

      “Please, now—” she held up a hand to forestall Laura’s protest “—don’t refuse outright. You know I won’t insult you by offering payment for the care you gave Kit. Indeed, were I the richest woman in the universe, how could I ever pay you the worth of my baby brother’s life? Beside that, a gown is the merest trifle. Still, it is too lovely to waste, and it would please me to have you wear it.”

      Though she didn’t doubt Lady Elspeth’s sincerity or kindness, Laura wasn’t naive enough to believe this offer a coincidence. With a rueful grimace, she wondered who had whispered in her friend’s ear. Lady Catherine, wanting “beautiful dresses” for her friend? Or Lord Beaulieu?

      As she hesitated, Lady Elspeth misinterpreted her silence. “What a widget! Of course you can’t decide until you see the gown. I’ll have Jane bring it immediately!”

      Laura tried to protest, but Lady Elspeth had already rung for her maid. Instructions were given, and by the time they finished their tea, the maid reappeared, bearing the dress. The demurral Laura intended to voice died in an inarticulate cry of wonder.

      It was simply the most

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