“I knew she was planning something.” Elizabeth honked into a handkerchief. Since she’d gone to wake Mary and discovered her closet in a riot—with key items missing—she hadn’t been able to stop crying. “This is all my fault.”

“It is not your fault,” Victoria insisted. “We all know how impulsive Mary is.”

Elizabeth gaped at her. “She ran away. With a footman!”

“My point exactly. And incidentally, she is in love with Jamison.”

Esmeralda, looking haggard and cod-like this morning, whimpered. “One does not simply fall in love with a footman. I don’t think it’s physically possible.”

“Of course it is,” Anne said, spearing a sausage with her fork. They didn’t often take breakfast together in the parlor, but this morning was different. In oh so many ways.

For one thing, Mary was not here. Elizabeth snuffled again. “Oh, where could she be?”

“She’s probably on a coach for Gretna Green,” Victoria suggested.

Aunt Esmeralda clutched her pearls, but it was probably just an instinctive reaction, because she wasn’t wearing any. “I think I shall be ill.”

“I’m sure she’s perfectly safe,” Anne said soothingly. “She’s a sensible girl.”

Elizabeth and Victoria sent her an incredulous look. Victoria mouthed the word Mary?

Fortunately, Anne’s reassurance was enough to calm their aunt, though she still wheezed now and again, and when she reached for her teacup, it shook decidedly.

The parlor door opened and the baron strode in.

“There you are!” Esmeralda bellowed, though there was no call to yowl. She leaped to her feet. “What have you found?”

Bower grimaced. “Not much. It appears they’d been planning this a while.”

“They?” Esmeralda boggled.

“A while?” Elizabeth wailed.

“One of the grooms said he knew Jamison had been saving money for something important, and . . .”

“And what? Oh, just blurt it out. My heart can take it, I swear.”

Hah. And Esmeralda had thought Mary the melodramatic one.

“There is a horse missing.”

“A horse?” Their aunt glanced at him with a befuddled expression, as though she wasn’t quite certain she’d ever heard of one.

“Aye.” Bower set his hands on his hips and sighed. “As soon as Hamish gets here, we’ll head out after them.”

“Oh thank God. I cannot bear to think of that child in danger.”

Anne stood and moved toward Bower, leaning in to say, “Mary will expect you to follow her.”

“Aye. She will.”

“She’ll have some plan in place.”

He scrubbed his face. “Nae doubt.”

Anne drew in a deep breath and glanced at Aunt Esmeralda. “I know her better than anyone. I should go with them.”

At once, a chorus erupted.

“Unthinkable!”

“I know her better than you!”

“I’m the one trapped in a betrothal I don’t want. I should go.”

Their aunt glared them all down and repeated, “Unthinkable, Anne. You would be ruined.”

“Aren’t we all?” Victoria said in far too complacent a tone. When everyone stared at her she shrugged and said, “Well, aren’t we?” She pinned Elizabeth with a wicked smile and waggled her brows.

Elizabeth took her meaning at once. What a horrifying thought. “I cannot countenance Mary throwing away her life for me!”

“Funny,” Anne said. “She felt the same about you.”

Oh, dear, sweet, misguided Mary! “I cannot carry that weight. I can’t.”

“It’s not your fault,” Esmeralda barked. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I should have seen. I should have noticed. A footman, for pity’s sake.”

“He is very handsome.” Victoria merely smiled when her aunt glared at her again.

“I knew she was planning something,” Elizabeth murmured. “I should have said something.”

Anne sighed. “No one could have expected it. I certainly didn’t.”

“There’s no good in guilt or worry,” Bower said. “We need to focus on bringing her home.”

“And keeping this from the ton,” Esmeralda said.

Bower blanched. “That . . . ah . . . may be difficult.”

Esmeralda looked up so fast her neck cracked. “What do you mean?”

“I, ah . . .” He tugged at his collar. “One of the neighbor’s maids told one of our maids that Mary might have been seen leaving with Jamison.”

Esmeralda collapsed into her chair. “Egads. This is awful. The worst.”

“It’s not so bad,” Anne assured her. “We can think of something to put the gossips off.”

But there was no time to plan. Because then the locusts descended.

Word was out, apparently.

Mary was ruined.

And with her, her sisters were scandalized.

And everyone in the ton wanted to come and have a look.

* * *

It was a horrific morning, one Elizabeth never wanted to repeat. On top of her worry about Mary, there was the fact that when Hamish arrived, she was not able to speak to him—or even say goodbye when he, Bower, and Anne took the carriage and headed north.

Beyond that, she, Esmeralda, and Victoria had their hands full dealing with calls.

Esmeralda stalwartly insisted nothing was awry, that Lady Prentiss had been mistaken when she’d seen a girl of Mary’s coloring mounting a horse behind a footman—and the sisters both followed suit, averring Mary—and Anne, for that matter—had gone off to Kent to visit an ailing relative. And thank God Esmeralda had plenty of ailing relatives living in virtual obscurity.

It was patently obvious some of the esteemed visitors didn’t believe a word, especially when Sally Albright looked pointedly around the room and asked, “And where are your Scotsmen, may I ask?”

Esmeralda set her lips together and frowned at her. A thinking woman would have left the room. Sally was not that wise.

“Well?”

Victoria smiled sweetly and refilled Sally’s teacup. “Oh, they asked not to attend morning calls anymore,” she said.

“Why ever not?” Sally said, tittering to Belinda Battersby.

“They find the company . . . banal,” Esmeralda murmured.

“I think they said vulgar,” Victoria corrected her.

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. “I believe the word brash was bandied about.”

Sally paled. “I say . . .” she sputtered.

Lady Callinda’s chins quivered. “They’re Scotsmen,” she said in an outraged whisper.

Esmeralda smiled coldly. “Yes. They are aware of that.”

“It’s been difficult for them, don’t you know.” Elizabeth leaned in. “Coming down a step. Socially.”

Victoria took a sip of her tea. “I think they’ve done well, though.”

“They’ve been very patient.” Esmeralda nodded.

“Quite.”

Oh. It was fun watching these vipers squirm.

And now that they were all utterly ruined, it didn’t matter in the least what these creatures thought. Elizabeth found the prospect quite freeing.

What a pity they all came to their feet, stiltedly made their farewells, and left.

As the door closed on their persons, Victoria sighed. “And here I was just warming up.”

“I wasn’t,” Esmeralda said. “I’m boiling.”

Victoria patted her hand. “No doubt that is the change.”

To which her aunt scowled.

“Let’s hope we don’t have any more visitors,” Elizabeth offered in an attempt to turn the topic.

“I shall tell Henley to take down the knocker.” But before she could ring the bell, Henley scratched on the door once more.

Esmeralda growled, Victoria sighed, and Elizabeth flinched. There was no one she really wanted to see.

But when Henley announced the Duchess of Moncrieff, they had to admit her. For one thing, she was a duchess. For another, she was nice.

It was, in fact, a pleasure having her. She swept into the room and gathered Esmeralda into a hug. “I heard,” she said. “I thought you could use some support.”

“Mary and Anne have gone to Kent to visit an ailing relative,” Victoria announced.

Kaitlin glanced at her. “Of course they have, and may I say I do hope dear . . .” She glanced at Esmeralda. “Who is ill?”

“Um . . . Aunt Hortense.”

“Of course. I do hope dear Hortense feels better soon.”

“She will probably die,” Elizabeth muttered, and the others pretended they didn’t hear. It hardly signified. Hortense was a wraith as it was.

“I hope you don’t mind. I brought Helena, Countess of Darlington, and Eleanor, Lady Pennington.” She ushered the others forward.

“Of course not. Come in. Come in,” Esmeralda said with a hint of relief in her tone. With this company, and the standing of the duchess, any newcomers would, perforce, make their regrets and leave. “Henley! More tea!” she called as Henley wheeled in a fresh tray.

Tea with the duchess and her friends was lovely. There were no awkward conversations or sly looks and—given the circumstances—there was a fair amount of laughter.

Elizabeth reflected again how very much she liked these women.

She had just settled in for the afternoon, relieved to not have to carry a conversation, when a ruckus sounded in the foyer.

“Oh dear,” Esmeralda said . . . just as the door burst open and Twiggenberry, with Henley on his heels, barged into the room.

“I will not be turned away. I shall see Elizabeth and I shall see her now.”

He stopped short as he took in the company and had the good manners to pale. “I . . . ah . . . beg your pardon, Your Grace.” He bowed. “I’ve just come to see my betrothed.”

The duchess tipped up her chin, just ever so slightly, and looked down her nose at Twiggenberry, which, considering the fact she was in a seated position, was a feat.

She pulled it off beautifully.

“Lord Twiggenberry. We are having tea.”

Elizabeth shuddered. She probably should take notes. She’d never realized a voice so beautiful could be so . . . terrifying.

“I am sorry, Your Grace. I need to speak to Elizabeth for just a moment in private. May I?”

The duchess stared at him.

He shifted from one foot to the other.

“May I?”

“You may not.”

Elizabeth could have hugged her. It must be wonderful having so much power.

Twiggenberry gaped at her and then sputtered, “I must insist.”

The temperature in the room dropped noticeably. “Must you?”

Realizing he was not getting what he desired, he turned his attention. “Elizabeth, I heard about your sister.”

Victoria smiled, widely. “Mary and Anne have gone to Kent to visit an ailing relative.”

“Dear Aunt Hortense,” the duchess added.

“Dear thing,” the countess said mournfully.

“Dear sweet thing,” Victoria added.

Twiggenberry snorted rudely. “Whatever. I’ve heard. And I want you to know that I don’t give a fig about that. I have the special license. We shall be married tomorrow.”

Elizabeth gaped at him. Her stomach lurched. “I cannot possibly marry you tomorrow.”

His eyes narrowed. “You can and will. I’ve had enough of your games, girl. By tomorrow evening, you will be my wife and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

Oh horrors.

To her surprise, Aunt Esmeralda stood. “There is, actually. As her guardian, in lieu of the duke, I can withdraw my permission.” When his face went purple, she said, in a conciliatory tone, “You cannot rush such a thing as a wedding.”

“Especially a society wedding,” the duchess murmured with a smile.

Twiggenberry’s expression went hard. He stared at them for a long moment and then he cleared his throat and rocked back on his feet. “We shall see.”

“We shall,” Esmeralda agreed, which did not appear to please Twiggenberry in the least. A vein on his forehead began to throb.

“I shall consult with the prince directly.” His gaze sharpened on Elizabeth. “I do have his ear, you know. And if he orders an immediate wedding, it shall be done.”

With that he spun from the room.

Despite his threats, Elizabeth was happy to see him gone.

“Oh, I don’t know why he doesn’t find a wife who wants to marry him,” Victoria grumbled.

“Would that be possible?” Lady Pennington quipped.

The duchess tipped her head. “Perhaps the attraction is your connection with Caithness?”

Most likely. For a man of his wealth, her dowry could hardly be the lure.

“What does a connection with a duke matter if he has the prince’s ear?” Lady Pennington asked.

The countess huffed. “Assuming he does. I can check with James. He would know.”

The duchess nodded. “I’ll speak with Edward as well. Somehow . . . I just don’t trust Twiggenberry’s motives. He was far too . . .”

“Desperate,” Victoria offered, and they all nodded, because that summed it up in a word.

For her part, Lady Pennington shuddered so hard her corkscrew curls bounced. “I really hate that man,” she said.

“Would it be so terrible if you didn’t marry him?” the countess asked. “I’m fond of you and I’d like for us to be friends, but I don’t think even I could tolerate him at my table.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Neither could I.”

“She’s not marrying him,” Esmeralda said, to the shock of all. Most especially Elizabeth.

“What?” she croaked.

Victoria clapped her hands. “Oh, famous!”

“You’re not marrying him. I won’t have it. I cannot tolerate it. I thought I could, but I can’t. I am so sorry, darling. And now that Mary—”

“And Anne have gone to Kent to visit an ailing relative . . .” Victoria put in.

“It is just not going to happen.”

“Oh, thank you, dear, dear aunt!” Elizabeth leaped to her feet and pulled her aunt into a hug. “I can’t marry him. I just can’t.”

“Lady Esmeralda,” the duchess said in an arresting tone.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Do you mind if we chat with Elizabeth. In private?”

Her aunt glanced around the room and then cleared her throat. “Not at all. Come, Victoria.”

Her sister put out a lip. “But I want to hear.”

“Come.” A command Victoria could not resist. Begrudgingly, she stood and followed Esmeralda from the room.

Once the door closed, Kaitlin folded her hands on her lap. “Very well then,” she said in a businesslike tone. “Let’s review your options.”

Helena held up one finger. “Marry him and be miserable.”

“I’ve been there,” Lady Pennington said with a shudder. “You cannot choose that one.”

Elizabeth gaped at her. “But you and Lord Pennington seem so happy.”

“Not Lord Pennington,” the countess said. “Eleanor’s first husband was a beast.”

Lady Pennington took a sip of tea. “Helena, you are being unkind to beasts.”

“My apologies.”

“Just so,” Kaitlin said.

Helena smiled brilliantly. “Perhaps you could convince another man to make you pregnant?”

Lady Pennington raised her hand. “Also one of mine.”

“How did that work?” Elizabeth asked. It sounded like a wonderful plan. She had just the man in mind.

“Again, not recommended,” Lady Pennington said.

The duchess ticked off another finger. “You could always run away.”

The countess made a face. “I tried that one. I would not recommend it.”

“It worked for you,” Kaitlin insisted.

“Only by sheer chance. It is far too dangerous in this day and age.”

“Not if we helped her,” the duchess said with a smile. “And we would. Wouldn’t we?” She fixed her attention on Elizabeth. “You just came out of mourning, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” After three years of blacks and lavenders.

“Perfect. Let’s get started. If Twiggenberry follows through with his threats, we shall have no time to waste.”