decided to be blunt. “I do not want to be a duchess. I want a quiet life in the country with children and a husband who is both sensible and sensitive. Lord Destry is neither.”
“You told me the other night that you had misjudged him. Need I remind you that this is the man who said that children should be taught to love one another? What is that if not caring?”
So they were going to have a debate whether she wanted to or not. Cecilia hated debates because she always lost. “I have had a long day and do not want to end it with an argument.”
“Here is my idea,” Beatrice began, ignoring her sister’s complaint. “Listen and admit that it makes sense. It’s a compromise. We will find the gentlemen, who are most likely gaming, on the pretext of asking who is going to ride in the morning, just as I suggested last night. If they invite us to join them in the game room we will stay and observe for a few minutes. You do not have to make conversation, only keep me company.”
“Lord Destry will be riding. I do not need to ask. He goes out on Jupiter every morning.”
“Then come with me and don’t ask. I should not go alone in case there are no other ladies with them.”
Cecilia knew this was just another way for Beatrice to win exactly what she wanted.
“But I’m going whether you come or not,” Beatrice insisted. “It’s my turn to have some fun. And after all, we did agree that they could teach us how to game.”
If she wanted to avoid an argument, Cecilia knew she had no choice. “All right, but we must go back to our rooms first. I’m sure my hair needs some attention.” If she could retreat to their room and enlist Darwell for support, Cecilia was sure she could keep her sister from going.
“It looks fine, Ceci. Not a curl out of place. And yet I wager a guinea that if you come with me you will look in every mirror we pass.” Beatrice danced around her with a teasing smile.
“I’m not that vain,” Cecilia answered with affront. “I only want to look my best.”
Beatrice stopped moving but said nothing, only bending her head slightly, with a challenging look.
“Very well, but no wagering,” Cecilia said, rising. There was a mirror behind her and she was amazed how hard it was not to take a quick look.
“Come, let us ask the footman where the gentlemen are playing tonight.” Beatrice took her sister’s hand and Cecilia held on tight.
“What are a footman’s duties, do you suppose?” Beatrice asked, hoping to distract her sister.
“To help ladies and gentlemen up and down the stairs,” Cecilia answered promptly. “Or, yes, as you suggested, to tell visitors how to find certain rooms. But they must do more than that.” Cecilia thought a moment. “We could ask Darwell. She told me that Callan was a footman for years before he became a valet.”
“When did you talk to her about Callan?” She and Darwell never talked about anything personal.
“When she was doing my hair. She is a veritable font of information. I can’t decide if she likes talking about him or was trying to keep me from fretting about this evening.”
“Both, probably,” Beatrice said. “I think they are old friends, and perhaps more now.”
“Hmmm” was all Cecilia said, which made Beatrice suspect that her sister knew more than she was letting on. Had Darwell sworn her to secrecy? When?
“Bitsy, she told me that whenever Lord Jess wins he gives Callan a bonus.”
“No, really?” Beatrice wondered if Jess won often.
“Yes, Darwell told me that Callan says it more than makes up for the times when Lord Jess is short of funds and cannot pay him in a timely manner.”
And how often does that happen? Beatrice wondered. They reached the footman before she could ask her sister, but that was all right since it hardly mattered. It was not as if she and Jess were courting. A flirtation was all they could share—one that involved lots of kisses.
“Would you tell us where the card room is?” Beatrice asked the footman.
“Of course, Miss Brent. The gentlemen are playing in the smaller of the gaming salons on the third floor in the west wing.” He began to give them directions and then suggested he escort them instead.
After the fourth turn Cecilia began wringing her hands. “How will we find our way back?”
“We can always ask another footman,