Page 31 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“They do seem quite content with one another.”
“Content?” Macie smiled to herself. “My mother would never have settled for mere contentment. I’ve seen how she looks at Papa. Even now. At times, his stubborn ways drive her mad, but he can melt away her irritation with a smile.”
“I must confess, I’ve never seen that side of her.”
“Oh, I know she can seem a bit airy. But Mum possesses a fire that she rarely shows to anyone other than Papa.”
“How very unexpected,” Nell said. “Whoever would have imagined?”
“Mother defied her family to marry Papa. Her father threatened to disown her. But her belief in our father was fierce. Utterly unshakable. Behind a pensive smile that might have inspired da Vinci, she has a will of iron.”
“Like her daughter.”
Nell had spoken the words as a compliment, but Macie could not bring herself to agree. Her mother had defied Macie’s grandfather and had never looked back. And yet, Macie could not bring herself to do so. Not outright. Instead, she played these rebellious games so she didn’t have to tell Papa the truth. She would never substitute an existence with a titled bloke for the kind of love Mum had savored throughout many rewarding years of marriage.
Someday, Papa would give up on his dream of Macie forging a socially advantageous marriage. Sooner. Or later. With any luck.
*
Gripping the edgeof the seat as the coach rattled over the pavement, Macie peered into the waning daylight. Thank heavens the route to the Mayfair townhouse she shared with Nell was neither long nor arduous. The bumps in the road gave her a new appreciation for the padding afforded by her bulky skirts.
Dash it all!She pictured her sketchbook in her mind’s eye. She’d placed it on the desk in her grandfather’s study. Surely she had not forgotten it. She would not have been so absent-minded. Hope flickered in her thoughts. She tapped Nell on the hand to pull her out of a daydream.
“By any chance, did you think to take my book of drawings on your way out of the house?”
Nell shook her head. “I take it you left it behind?”
Drat her forgetfulness.Preoccupied with talk of dashing Egyptologists and bouncing along on camels to some sheik’s oasis, she’d neglected to gather it with her equipment. She needed that book. She had planned to pass most of the night sketching scenes of the grand ballroom of the Yarburys’magnificent home with images of Finn sprinkled in for good measure. If the nosy belles helped themselves to a look, they’d come to their own convenient conclusions about her choice of subject matter.
She sat up tall in her seat. “I must retrieve it.”
Nell frowned in puzzlement. “You need the notebook this evening?”
“Indeed, I do.” Macie pulled a cord to alert the driver of the hansom.
“Shall we turn back, Miss Mason?” the man called from his bench.
“No need,” she replied. “From here, I can walk quickly and take another cab to the house. I shall only be a bit behind schedule.”
“Walk?” Nell regarded her as if she’d proposed a journey on foot to the Highlands. “Don’t be silly. We’ll have to go back.”
“I shall enjoy the exercise and the fresh air,” Macie countered.
“You won’t have time to prepare for Lady Yarbury’s party.”
“Nell, you’ll want time to ready yourself to enjoy the gathering. But you know I could not give a fig about styling my hair just so. I won’t need more than a few minutes to prepare.”
Her friend’s brow furrowed. “Is retrieving that sketchbook truly so urgent?”
“I’ll see you within the hour.” Making her way out of the carriage, she smiled over her shoulder. “’Till we meet again.”
Macie hurried away before Nell could say another word. Truth be told, she was rather looking forward to a few moments of relative peace and quiet while she made the short trek back to the mansion.
Bustling up the steps, she retrieved her key from her reticule. As she reached for the door, she stopped. With a light touch against the latch, the sturdy oak door swung inward. She’d hadno need for the key in her hand. The door had not been fully closed.
How very peculiar.Pulling in a low breath, she shook off her doubts. Surely there was a simple explanation. Busy as Nell’s thoughts had been with preparations for the elegant soiree—with an eligible and adventurous lord in attendance—she’d likely forgotten to secure the door. The newly stirring breeze had done the rest.
Still, a whisper of warning nagged at her. Taking one of her grandfather’s canes from the stand in the entry hall, she curved her fingers around the handle. It certainly would not hurt to carry some sort of protection, just in case. Proceeding with brisk steps up the stairs to her grandfather’s study, she spotted nothing out of place. As she entered the room her grandfather had considered a sanctuary, she spotted her sketchbook lying open on a marble-topped table. Rather curious, that. She was quite certain she’d left it on his desk. How had it ended up turned to a page where she’d jotted images of an old church?
