Page 51 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“You know of whom I speak.” As Mrs. Tuttle folded her arms at the waist, the tension in her mouth eased, if only a sliver. “Mr. Caldwell is in the parlor with Miss Nell. She’s got it in her head that he must have a costume for the masquerade tomorrow night.”
“Oh, dear. I suppose I should rescue him.”
The housekeeper shrugged. “I wouldn’t be in too much of a hurry to spare that man from Nell’s notions. With any luck, she’ll send him on his way without even realizing what she’s doing.”
“Not likely. He’s got good reason to stick around,” Macie said as she joined Mrs. Tuttle at the door.
“Does he now?”
“Soon, we will talk over tea,” Macie replied. “By then, it won’t matter.”
“Won’t matter, eh? I don’t like the sound of that,” Mrs. Tuttle said. “We both know how you like to scheme. I do hope you’re not getting in over your head this time.”
“I know better than to take a risk I cannot navigate. Much less with that man.” Macie sounded more confident than she felt.
The older woman gave a little sigh. “Will he be in the residenceagaintonight?”
“Possibly,” Macie said. “He’s determined to be the noble protector while Jon is away.”
“Phineas Caldwell? Noble?” Mrs. Tuttle scoffed. “I suppose I’ve heard everything now.”
“Ah, don’t be so grumpy,” Macie said lightly. “I believe his reasons are sound.”
A line of worry creased the older woman’s brow. “The police still haven’t found why the old man was in the old house, have they?”
Macie shook her head. “Not that I am aware. With any luck, they’ll be able to rule out a connection with our family after the man revives.”
“I’ll prepare the spare room for Mr. Caldwell. Just in case.” Mrs. Tuttle pulled back her shoulders, affecting an air of efficiency.
“An excellent idea.” Macie smiled. “Thank you.”
“There was no time last night.”
“It was definitely an unforeseen development.”
Mrs. Tuttle nodded. “What would your brother say about all of this?”
Macie gave a little shrug. “I’d like to think he would put our well-being ahead of false notions of propriety. But truth be told, what Jon doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
*
Macie was nostranger to unexpected scenes. After all, she’d become quite adept at creating them. But even she could not have expected to come upon Nell’s determined attempt to convince Finn to be fitted for a medieval tunic, of all the things.
“I have it on good authority that she is dressing as Maid Marian,” Nell said as Macie approached the doorway. “Her escort’s attire should complement hers.”
Finn stood by the fireplace in the parlor, his back to Macie. Though she could not see his face, she could readily picture the rise of his eyebrows as he spoke. “Have ye gone batty, lass?”
“Batty.” Nell blinked, looking a bit taken aback. “That was most unnecessary.”
“All right, then. Daft.”
Nell sighed. “You wound me, Mr. Caldwell.”
“Be thankful I consider ye a lady. Those are the mildest words I could come up with on short notice. Ye’re mad if ye think I’m wearing a blasted tunic to a ball.”
“Madame Lorette assured me she could devise a costume within a few hours. Once she has your measurements, of course.”
Macie strategically cleared her throat. “You have it on good authority, do you, Nell?”
