The Lady in Disguise

Chapter Thirty (part two)

Was it too much to hope that this nonsense would be over quickly?

Byrne paced the patio as the footmen helped bring a chaise out for Mrs. Baddeley's comfort. He didn't resent that part. He was actually relieved she was on the mend and that things would be less chaotic with her back to hostessing.

What he did resent was that there were to be games that everyone, even he, must attend. He'd managed to get out of the scavenger hunt, but Mrs. Baddeley seemed very insistent on his being present for this bit of... fun, if that's what she insisted on calling it.

He'd never been one for games. Even as a child, he'd found them pointless. Even if he won, what did he win? A waste of time that could have been spent on more useful things?

Of course, the idea that everyone must be present meant that Miss Crewe could no longer hide away. He'd not found her in the dining room. Declan had informed him she'd breakfasted very early with the other ladies. He'd not found her in the woods, playing with that silly dog. He'd tried every possible room before he stood in front of her own.

God, it felt illicit, just laying his hand on her door before he steeled himself and knocked. He reminded himself that there was nothing illicit about his intentions. In fact, they were perfectly honorable. He would invite her on a walk... to simply talk. If a kiss or two happened, that would also be perfectly respectable. They were practically engaged.

Unfortunately — or perhaps fortunately — it was her maid who answered the door.

"Ah, Mr. Byrne. A pleasure," Miss Finch said, sounding like seeing him was the farthest thing from that. "If you're looking for my mistress, she's not here."

He was taken aback, considering he'd been very kind about her. He'd not blinked at her distracting his staff with her antics and fanciful drawings. But perhaps she didn't know that.

"Miss Finch," he began politely, or so he thought, stopping her from closing the door. "I hear you have a way with a pencil. The servants say they enjoy your... endeavors."

She stiffened and partially closed the door. "And what is that to you?"

"Nothing at all," he gritted out through his smile.

"They are Sir Anthony's servants, are they not? Why has he not come to congratulate me?" She tilted her head.

He tilted his as well. Tony had said he'd let Miss Crewe in on Byrne's funding of this party, but he never imagined she'd let her maid in as well. He saw no reason to mince words. "So you know."

"I know only that your interest in my mistress is not... appropriate and that you would do better to leave her alone," she said, succeeding in closing the door this time.He was too surprised to stop it.

Of all the things he thought might stand in the way of his marriage to Miss Crewe, he'd never thought her maid would be one of them.

Damn it, had the maid pleaded Tony's case? Would that have convinced Miss Crewe to...

He needed answers and, he supposed, he should be grateful Miss Crewe — along with all the guests present — would be on this patio soon enough.

Yes, he'd rather the things he had to say, along with the questions he had to ask, be only between the two of them, but he'd endure a party game or two before he could drag her off and ask her what the devil was going on.

He brightened a bit as Tony came out... and glowering heavily. He wouldn't be doing so if Miss Crewe had accepted him.

Byrne reminded himself he should not be so joyful at Tony's misfortune as he approached him, sobering his expression. "Tony, what has you so glum?"