"Even so. A carriage and two horses ... they ain't trifles. Ye can't tuck 'em in yer pocket. An' they very likely'll be missed."

"Just tell Reeves I'll see that they're returned in two days' time. Word of honor."

Jemmy rubbed his chin. "Are ye sure you know what y're doin', Emily? There's more'n a foot o' snow out there, an' it's still comin' down. This could mean a good deal o' woe."

"Don't worry, Jemmy," she a.s.sured him with a confidence she was far from feeling. "I mean to take very good care of myself."

Chapter Twenty-Six.

"Well, Edgerton, I asked you a question! Where is she?"

Lord Edgerton sighed, shrugged, and came forward. "I suppose it's time to straighten out this tangle," he said, half regretful that the masquerade was about to come to an end.

"Find Naismith, will you, Randolph? And tell him to send Emily Pratt to me at once."

Dr. Randolph nodded and left the room.

"Emily Pratt? Who the devil is Emily Pratt?" Birkinshaw asked irritably.

Lord Edgerton looked at Emily, still being held in Toby's arms. "Put the girl down, Toby," he ordered. Toby, shaken and confused, did as he was told.

"Well, my dear," Edgerton asked her gently as soon as she was on her feet, "do you want to tell him yourself ?"

"You know?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes. For quite some time. But I believe everyone else is still in ignorance. Don't you think you ought to say something to them?"

She lowered her eyes and twisted her fingers behind her back. "Yes, I suppose I must." She turned and faced Toby. "My name, as you've surmised by this time, is not Kitty Jessup. I'm Emily Pratt."

"Yes, yes," Birkinshaw put in impatiently. "We've surmised that, too. But who are you?"

She kept her eyes fixed on Toby's face. "I'm Kitty Jessup's abigail."

There was an immediate hubbub. Everyone spoke at once. Alicia and Lady Edith exclaimed loudly that they didn't believe it. Lady Birkinshaw looked at her husband with dismay and muttered that this must be Kitty's doing and that she should have known the girl would play some sort of prank.

Lord Birkinshaw roared that if this was Kitty's doing he'd wring her neck. Only Toby remained silent, staring at Emily as if he'd never seen her before. Finally silence fell. Everyone turned to observe the couple standing in the center of the room as motionless as if they'd been turned to pillars of salt. "Is that it?" Toby asked her at last. "Is that the whole of it?"

She licked her dry lips. "Isn't it enough?"

"Idiot girl! Did you think it was your name I loved?" Her wide, dark eyes became enormous and filled with tears. "Toby," she breathed, "you can't-!"

He held out his arms, and after a moment's hesitation she gave a choked little cry and fell into them. "Yes, I can," he murmured into her hair.

"But ... there's your brother's promise to Kitty," she reminded him, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. "And the settlement ..."

"I never promised. And I don't need a settlement. I can find a post somewhere."

"No, please," she murmured into his shoulder. "I'm n.o.body. I'm merely a maid-of-all-work at Miss Marchmont's school."

"Not such a n.o.body, I believe," Edgerton put in. "You're a trained teacher, I've been told. And a most talented musician. And never have I seen anyone exert so benign an influence upon this family."

Emily lifted her head and gaped at him. "Are you saying you approve, my lord?"

"Yes, I am. Although it seems that my brother doesn't care whether I approve or not. I've never before heard him offer to look for a post. I think, Miss Pratt, that your benign influence on him is the most remarkable thing of all."

Two vertical dimples appeared on Emily's cheeks. "I think so, too, my lord," she said.

"Now that it's agreed by all and sundry that you're going to make a new man of me," Toby said, lifting her up in his arms again, "I'm taking you up to bed." He carried her to the door and over the threshold with tender care. As they disappeared from sight, the others in the room heard him laugh. "If anyone had told me a week ago that I'd fall in love with a teacher," he chortled, "I'd have told him to put his head under the pump!"

Lord Birkinshaw watched them go and then turned to his wife in irritation. "Is that your lecher?" he demanded. "He didn't seem so to me."

Lady Birkinshaw sank down upon a chair. "I seem to have made a hideous mistake," she said, humiliated. "I hope, Lady Edith, that you will find it in you to forgive me for the dreadful things I said about your son. I seem to have been terribly misinformed."

"Think no more of it," Lady Edith said graciously. "You were no more misinformed than I. To tell you the truth, I don't understand anything that's pa.s.sed here this morning. Alicia, I hope you will sit down and explain things to me."

"There's nothing much to explain, Mama," Alicia said. "The only thing that's important is that Toby will be happy."

"Hmmmph!" Lord Birkinshaw grunted. "He'll be happy at the expense of my daughter. It seems to me, Edgerton, that you haven't played fair. We had an agreement, did we not? Confound it, we shook hands!"

"I know we did, old fellow, but the fates were against us. I don't think your Kitty wanted him."

"That remains for Kitty to say," Birkinshaw declared. "That is, if the minx ever puts in an appearance."

But Kitty did not put in an appearance. Dr. Randolph returned after more than a quarter hour had pa.s.sed to report that Naismith had not been able to find the girl anywhere. Lord Edgerton decided to search for her himself. He combed the house from the kitchen to the attic. More than an hour pa.s.sed before he gave up. He returned to the breakfast room, where the Birkinshaws were being served a makeshift luncheon, and glowered at Kitty's father in disgust.

"d.a.m.nation, Birkinshaw," he exploded, "what do you think your blasted daughter is up to now?"

"Easy, old fellow," the doting father responded, calmly chewing away on a b.u.t.tered m.u.f.fin, "I ain't blaming you for her disappearance. Kitty's harder to keep hold of than an eel. But she'll turn up."

"Turn up? Is that all you have to say?"

"What else can I say? She's undoubtedly up to some mischief, but there's no use making a to-do about it. You won't find her "til she wants to be found"

This fatherly response made Edgerton sputter in fury. Birkinshaw might take this latest calamity with equanimity, but Edgerton could not. What if the girl had had an accident'? What if she'd fallen down a secret stair that he knew nothing of and was lying senseless in a pool of her own blood? What if she'd slipped down the coal chute? What if she'd learned that her parents had come and was hiding somewhere in a dark corner of the house with rats gnawing at her feet? He was going out of his mind with worry, and he didn't know what to do about it.

But before he completely lost his head, Toby appeared. "I say, Greg," he said, his brow knit with concern, "I may have a clue here." He held out, a crumpled piece of paper. "Kitty ... I mean Emily ... says that you should look at this. We just noticed it on the floor of Emily's bedchamber. Emily wrote it early this morning, meaning to run off herself. She thinks that Kitty found it and may have decided to rescue her."

Lord Edgerton ran his eye rapidly over the note. "Of course that's it! It would be just like her, the maddening wench! I'm sorry, Birkinshaw, to describe your daughter with these insulting epithets, but she does set my blood to boil!"

"Oh, don't apologize, old man," Birkinshaw said cheerfully. "I've used worse, myself."

"I'll go after her, naturally. I a.s.sume you'll want to come along with me. If so, you'd better ask Naismith to fix you up with a thick pair of boots."

"Come along with you? Through all that snow? You must be touched in your upper works, old fellow. You may go chasing after her if you wish, but I'll be content to wait right here at a nice fire with a gla.s.s of your good madeira in hand." Edgerton blinked at him, shook his head in disgust, and went off to quiz the staff. Someone must have seen her, he reasoned, and could provide him with information to make his search easier. It didn't take long for the information to come. As soon as the news spread among the staff that his lordship was making inquiries about the abigail, Jemmy came forward and confessed. Troubled about her safety, his conscience would not permit him to keep silent. He revealed which carriage and horses he'd provided for the girl and the direction he'd seen her take. The only thing he did not reveal was the existence of the ten guineas he'd hidden in his mattress. Naismith wanted to sack the fellow on the spot, but Edgerton, both frustrated at and grateful to the fellow, postponed devising a punishment until he'd brought the missing abigail back home.

Lord Edgerton ordered the curricle to be brought around and ran upstairs to his dressing room to change. Dampier, his valet, was pulling on his boots when there was a timid tap at his door. Dampier admitted a very nervous Emily.

"May I speak to you, my lord?" she asked shyly.

"Yes, of course," he said, masking his impatience to be gone. His boots on, he rose from his chair and gave Dampier a signal to take himself off. "Do sit down, Emily. Is something amiss?"

"It's about Kitty ... Miss Jessup," she said, perching on the edge of the small room's only chair. "When you find her, my lord, please don't be angry with her. It's all my fault that she's run off. If I hadn't been so impetuous-I was trying to be like her, you see-this never would have happened." Edgerton frowned.

"What do you take me for, Emily? Do you think me some sort of monster? What did you think I'd do to her when I found her? Strangle her? I may wish to choke the exasperating creature, but I think I can restrain myself."

"I'm sorry, my lord," she said in discomfort. "I didn't wish to offend you. But Kitty is my friend, you see. I wish only to make you understand her. She really isn't so exasperating. She's changed a great deal since we first came here. She's become very kind and thoughtful, and I'm certain that she's only run away because she was worried about me. About my safety. She knew I don't know very much about horses, and she probably wanted to protect me. You can't be angry at her for that, can you?"

"Yes, I can. If she was so worried about you, why didn't she come to me?"

"To you?" she repeated in surprise. "Why would you expect her to come to you? You're the head of this magnificent estate, and much too busy with more important concerns than those of a housemaid. It isn't as if she was acquainted with you."

"Is that what she told you? That she isn't acquainted with me?" he asked curiously.

Emily searched his face wonderingly. "We didn't speak of you very often. I a.s.sumed that your path would not cross that of a mere abigail. Was I wrong? Is she acquainted with you?"

"Yes, she is. And she ought to have known that I would have gone to search for you if she'd asked."

"Oh, I see," Emily said, blinking her wide eyes in surprise. "You did say that you've known the truth about us for some time. I have been wondering how you discovered the truth. Was it she who told you?"

"No. I guessed. She has no idea that I'm aware of her true ident.i.ty."

"And yet you say you are acquainted with her. Is it ... well acquainted?"

Lord Edgerton turned away. "Well enough."

It was dawning on Emily that there had been a great deal that Kitty hadn't told her. Could there possibly have been something between Kitty and this rather formidable gentleman? With Kitty, anything was possible. Whatever the truth was, it was evident that his lordship did not need any further explanation of Kitty's behavior from her. She rose from the chair. "Then there's nothing more I need to say. Thank you, my lord, for listening to me."

His lordship walked to the room's small window and stared out at the snow. "Before you go, my dear," he said to her without looking around, "I wish you'd tell me why Miss Jessup embarked on this insane masquerade. It couldn't have been a dislike for Toby, for you evidently began the deception before either of you had laid eyes on him."

"Yes, that's true. It wasn't a dislike of Toby. It was a dislike of marriage."

He looked around in surprise. "Of marriage? Any marriage? Why was that?"

"She is very young, you know, and has been imprisoned in school for years." Emily smiled, remembering Kitty's declaration of freedom that day in the carriage on the way to Edgerton Park. "She wanted time to be free, she told me. Free to go to parties and dances and routs. Free to meet all of London's eligible men ... hundreds of them, she said ... and break all their hearts. I remember her saying that wedlock was a fate worse than death."

He did not say anything for a long while. Then he turned back to gaze out the window again. "That's all I want to know," he said quietly. "Thank you, Emily."

"You're very welcome, my lord. I hope you find her safe and well. And very soon."

He continued to watch the falling snow for several minutes. So, my girl, he said to himself with more bitterness than he'd believed he felt, you want to meet all the eligibles and break their hearts. Well, you've certainly made a good beginning!

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

The falling snow had completely covered any tracks he might have followed, and as the afternoon advanced, the horses found the going more and more difficult. Darkness fell before Edgerton had even a glimpse of another carriage. The two lanterns at the side of the curricle threw only a faint glimmer of light before him, making the search almost impossible. The road markers were few and far between, and the possibilities of a carriage wandering off the road were limitless. For a while he took to shouting her name into the darkness, but the answering silence only chilled his bones. He finally had to admit to himself that there was little point in continuing the search tonight. He'd have to find a place to sleep and start out again at daybreak.

He knew of a small inn in the vicinity, and he pointed his horses in that direction. The snow was, by this time, coming down so heavily that he could barely see ahead of him. The horses made such slow progress that he was convinced he'd pa.s.sed the inn without seeing it, but suddenly he discerned a faint light ahead. It was indeed the light from the inn he'd visited once or twice before, called the Fiddle and Bow. The inn yard was almost deserted, but the light shining from the Fiddle and Bow's large front window indicated that even tonight a few hardy souls had made their way to the taproom to warm their innards with home brew. He wished, as he handed the reins to the ostler, that he could feel some pleasure at having battled the storm and succeeded in reaching warmth and safety, but his uneasiness at the possible fate of the missing girl prevented him from experiencing any relief. In truth, he was terrified for her.

He went in, tossed his beaver on the barrack, stamped the snow from his boots, and made his way to the taproom. Only three men sat at the little tables, each one with a mug before him. Weary and depressed, he sank down at the nearest table and dropped his head upon his outstretched arms. He didn't remember ever feeling quite this low before. All sorts of hideous possibilities jostled their way into his imagination. He saw Kitty huddled in a stalled conveyance, the wind whistling wildly about her until it slowly froze her to death. He saw her lying sprawled on a s...o...b..nk, her carriage overturned nearby, the snow inexorably covering her beautiful face and form. He pictured her unhitching her horses from her s...o...b..und vehicle and leading them with dogged determination across a seemingly endless field, the tears streaming pathetically from her eyes and freezing on her cheeks. "Oh, G.o.d," he groaned, clenching his fists, "let me find her alive."

He must have fallen asleep, for the next thing he knew someone was tapping his shoulder. "Last call," a woman said tiredly. "We'll be closing soon. May I get you something?"

"What?" he mumbled, too miserable to raise his head.

"Ale, sir? Last call."

He turned his head to the side and opened an eye. The barmaid was standing beside his table, holding her tray right at the level of his eye. Did he want any ale, he wondered? Probably not, for he didn't believe he had the strength to sit up and drink it. "No, no," he muttered. "Go 'way and let me be."

"Are you sure, sir? It's last call."

His eye, but not his brain, noted that the barmaid transferred the tray to her other hand. The hand was bandaged. The bandage looked familiar to his eye, but it took a moment longer for his mind to recognize it. When it did, the bandaged hand was already moving away with the body to which it belonged. A shiver shot through him. Was he dreaming? He lifted his head slowly. The barmaid's back was to him, but it could very well be ...

"Kitty?" he asked, tensely tentative.

The barmaid seemed to freeze. Then her tray fell to the floor with a crash, and she whirled around. "Lord Edgerton!"

He jumped to his feet just in time to catch her as she flew into his arms. "You found me!" she exclaimed. "I dreamed you'd find me."

"I dreamed I'd find you frozen to death in the snow," he muttered hoa.r.s.ely.

He held her tight, not convinced that he wasn't still dreaming. He could hardly believe that she was safe in his arms. She was laughing and crying at once, fondling his hair with eager fingers and, heartless minx that she was, calling him darling and my love. He knew he should let her go, but he was too tired, too relieved, too foolishly besotted to do it. But all at once she stiffened and drew away from him.

"What did you say?" she asked, staring at him aghast.

"Say?" he repeated stupidly.

"When you first recognized me. You called me Kitty!" That brought him to his senses.

"Did I?" he said, turning back to the table and seating himself heavily.

She followed him. "Who told you?" she demanded angrily.

"No one told me," he said with a weary sigh. "I guessed it long ago."

"You guessed? Then why did you let me go on-"

"It amused me, I suppose. I shouldn't have. In that regard I've been as reprehensible as you."