would be no information from him after all.
“As for you, Miss Brent, Darwell is a loyal and talented maid. You and your sister could not have chosen better.”
It sounded as though he knew Darwell better than his own valet. What in the world did Lord Jess and Darwell have in common? Not that she dared ask.
Without an immediate response from her the silence grew awkward with the unasked question hanging in the air between them. How fortunate that he could not read her expressions the way Beatrice could.
Cecilia was spared the onslaught of complete embarrassment by the countess’s entrance. Finally.
Chapter Thirteen
THE COUNTESS DID not have to break a glass to draw their attention this time. Destry noted that even Mrs. Wilson stopped talking mid-sentence. The countess was dressed in a black gown, but it could never be taken for a mourning outfit. Diamond-like crystals glittered in the light from every inch of the fabric.
Two footmen followed her, carrying large, well-shaded flambeaux. Their presence and the uneven light from the torches added to the guests’ mood of cautious uncertainty.
“She is a dark fairy who has deigned to join us,” Destry announced to the room, giving the countess an opening with which to commence.
The countess curtsied to him. “One can always count on you to play the game, my lord.”
“With pleasure, my lady.” Destry bowed to her.
“What in the world is she planning?” Cecilia whispered, most likely to Beatrice, who had joined the group. The low hum of voices echoed the question.
“I have no idea,” Beatrice answered and then turned a questioning look at Destry.
“Something very, very different,” Destry said, stating the obvious. God help me, he thought. After not seeing Cecilia all day he’d managed to be clever for exactly one minute.
Before he could say anything else which was bound to be equally inept, the countess spoke again.
“Good evening, everyone! Tonight we are going to experience the dark and dread world of Dr. Frankenstein. Is that name familiar to any of you?”
Destry looked around the room and saw Belmont nod and Mrs. Kendrick raise her hand a little. Cecilia Brent edged closer to her sister. Destry stepped toward the duo as well, since no one had told him not to.
CECILIA WOULD NEVER raise her hand but Beatrice knew she recognized that name and the story.
“It’s the book that Ellis brought us from London.” Beatrice widened their circle a bit to include Lord Destry in their conversation. “He only brought the first volume. I’ve always wondered how it ended.”
“Perhaps we will find out tonight,” Destry said with obvious delight.
“In the novel, Dr. Frankenstein attempted to create a human being.” The countess caught the eye of each of her guests. “He succeeded, but not entirely, as the creature he gave life to was more a monster.”
Belmont raised his hand. “One could argue that it was the way mankind treated him that made him a monster.”
“Yes, indeed, my lord. I should have said that he had the physical look of a monster.”
Belmont nodded and the countess went on.
“Tonight we will hear a reading of highlighted parts of the novel after dinner. We are expecting other guests, welcome and unwelcome, as the evening progresses.”
“Who could she mean?” Cecilia was not fond of surprises.
“Maybe she has discovered the author of the book and he will attend.” Beatrice thought that would be fabulous. “But it’s probably just a way of establishing a mood, especially for those who have not read the book.”
The countess walked across the library to stand near the fireplace. “Now follow me, please. We will make our way through a hidden passage, from here to the dining room.”
“What fun!” Beatrice said, not in a whisper, drawing the attention of the assembly.
“I hope so, dear Beatrice,” the countess said as all the guests drew closer to her.
Beatrice could easily hear the pause in Miss Wilson’s voice when she said, “A secret passage?”
“There is no need to be afraid. It’s probably just a back way for the servants,” Lord Crenshaw reassured her.
“But I hate small enclosed spaces.”
“No, you don’t. I will see that you are safe.”
Despite his gallant offer to secure her safety, Beatrice thought that Lord Crenshaw’s denial of Katherine’s fear was an absurd statement from a man who had made her acquaintance only a day ago.
Beatrice noticed Lord Jess’s reaction, and was taken aback by the anger she saw in his face. She squelched her own criticism and tried another tack, announcing to no one in particular, “I would imagine that a house as