Page 29 of Ladies in Hating
The dark figure took another step into the room and resolved slowly into the form of a thin, sharp-edged woman. She had a tangle of wild curls piled high on her head, a snub nose, and a grim, expressionless mouth. When she spoke, her voice was a monotone. “I am Graves.”
Cat nearly choked.Graves?Surely not. “Graves,” she repeated. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Are you the—”
“Housekeeper,” said Graves flatly. “You are welcome here, Miss Lacey. I will show you to your room before dinner.”
And then she turned on her heel and made for the door again.
Cat had half a moment to think,Well, that resolves that,before Georgiana strode around her in the direction of the departing housekeeper.
“Mrs. Graves,” Georgiana said, and Cat nearly tripped over her own skirts at the sound of Lady Georgiana’s voice.
It was not quite the breathy ingenue’s voice from Saint Botolph’s, but nor was it the silver-and-crystal accent she used with Cat. It was warmer, rich as autumn clematis.
The housekeeper paused and then turned, very slowly, back to face them. “Yes?”
“You’ve been marvelous,” Georgiana said, “since the moment Bacon and I arrived, and I’m so grateful. I know you werenot anticipating my canine accompaniment.” She’d taken on a cozy, intimate tone, as though she and Graves had become dearest companions since Georgiana’s arrival at Renwick House.
What trickery was this? What had happened to the cut-glass Georgiana of Cat’s…
Of Cat’snightmares,surely. Certainly not her dreams.
“But I’m afraid there’s been some mistake,” Georgiana went on. “Miss Lacey’s arrival has been mistimed somehow. I believe she was meant to be in residence only after my departure.” Georgiana smiled—not blindingly, but sweetly earnest. “You needn’t prepare her room. I can help Miss Lacey secure transportation back to Devizes.”
Ah yes, there she was—Lady Georgiana in all her devilish and infuriating glory.
“No,” said Graves. Her face was as stolid as a carved mask. “She’s to stay as well. You’re in the same corridor. If you hear anything in the night…” She paused. Her mouth twitched once, then settled back into a line. “It’s nothing but the dog.”
“Oh,” Cat said. “How comforting.”
Georgiana flicked a glance to her—a hasty blue glare—and then smothered the expression beneath that smile again as she turned back to Graves. “I’m certain we can…”
She trailed off. Graves had wheeled away and was stumping silently off in the direction of their wing.
Cat felt a very distinct sensation of victory as her eyes met Georgiana’s. “It appears I’m staying.” She permitted herself one very small smirk. “Though you may still leave, if you choose it.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Georgiana hissed. “But do not think this is the end of the matter.”
Helplessly, Cat felt her smile widen. “Oh no,” she murmured, “I suspect not. Not by a long shot.”
She strode after Graves on a little curl of triumph but then her curiosity got the better of her. She paused and turned back to Georgiana, who was standing frozen in the middle of the wide stone floor.
“By the by,” Cat said, in a tone of pleasant inquiry, “did I hear you call your dog Bacon?”
Chapter 10
I have arrived at Renwick House and anticipate an entirelydisastrous excruciatinguneventful visit.
—from Georgiana Cleeve to her mother, Edith Cleeve
Georgiana had not gone down to dinner. It was not a fit of pique, she told herself firmly. She was not hungry, that was all.
Her stomach hadnotgrowled. That had been the dog.
To be perfectly frank—which seemed a reasonable thing to be, in the privacy of one’s own mind—she was afraid to go down to dinner.
She was afraid, devil take it, to face Cat again.
God! She ought to have predicted that the woman would be here. Cat had certainly turned up everywhere else!
