"To where?" Emily prodded.

"To ..." Kitty's tightly held self-control deserted her, and she fell into the maid's arms with a choked cry. "Oh, Emily, how can they have done this to me? I'm not ... ready!"

"But what is it, miss?" Emily asked, truly alarmed. "Where are they sending you?"

"To someplace worse than school, worse than Coventry, worse even than prison!" She lifted her head, stared straight out before her, set her shoulders, and marched off down the hall, her last words echoing back to Emily like the thrums of a m.u.f.fled drum. "I'm being sent off to ... to death!"

Chapter Four.

When a young woman of not-quite-eighteen is struck a severe blow, she can immediately resort to the one course of action guaranteed to be both appropriate and effective: she can throw herself upon her bed and cry. The act is appropriate because it is instinctive (girls have done it since the beginning of time), and it is effective because it postpones other action (which might be dangerous or ill-considered when the girl is in turmoil) until the weeper's brain has ceased to seethe. Kitty wisely took just such action.

When her bout of tears had ended, it was bedtime. The girls of the upper school, dressed in their nightgowns and supposedly asleep in their beds, had waited patiently for her sobs to subside, and they now gathered round to hear her explanation and to offer their sympathy and advice. The door of their dormitory room was safely shut against all intruders, they'd all perched comfortably upon Kitty's bed, and they'd lit only one candle (shaded by a green gla.s.s ginger jar which they kept hidden away under a floor board for just such occasions) so that no telltale light would seep under the door to alert the night guard that a colloquium was in session.

Kitty read her father's letter aloud in a voice that still trembled with despair. When she'd finished, there was a shocked silence, for the enormity of the problem momentarily overwhelmed the white-gowned listeners. "Good G.o.d!" Bella breathed in something like awe.

"Yes, exactly so," Kitty muttered glumly. "I couldn't have expressed it better myself."

There was an immediate outpouring of sympathy, but it was not sympathy that Kitty wanted. "I need advice," she told them firmly. "Good, practical advice. How am Ito get out of this fix?"

They promptly set their minds to the problem. They were not without imagination, and soon they were able to offer a number of suggestions. The ideas they concocted varied with their personalities. Hannah, the quietest of the group, was the first to get an idea. "A rope ladder," she suggested. "We'll tie our sheets together. Then all you need do is climb down and run away."

Of course this suggestion was immediately vetoed. There was no place to which Kitty could run. Where could she go without funds or resources? If she had a maiden aunt who could be counted on to be sympathetic to her plight and take her in, something might be contrived, but Kitty could think of no such convenient relation.

Dolly suggested falling into a trancelike illness that might frighten her parents into relenting, but everyone else disagreed. Kitty looked much too healthy to feign illness. However, that idea led directly to Bella's notion: the threat of starvation. "If you refuse to eat a morsel of food until they release you from this betrothal, you might get your way. My threats to starve myself work wonders with my father."

"Your father is a p.u.s.s.ycat," Kitty pointed out. "Mine is a mule."

Plump little Clara had listened to the discussion with frowning detachment. "I don't know why you're making these suggestions at all. You're all doomsayers without there being a sign of doom! I don't think the situation is the least bit tragic."

"Not tragic?" Kitty exclaimed in offense. "I thought you were my best friend!"

"I am your best friend. But I, for one, would consider such an event quite fortunate ... at least until I laid eyes on the man in question. After all, he might very well turn out to be hand some and charming. If one found him so, one could then live happily ever after."

"And if he turned out to be a bag-pudding," Bella demanded, "what then?"

"Then one could lower a rope ladder or starve oneself to death," Kitty muttered with hopeless irony.

The girls' colloquy did not prove fruitful. Before a really useful plan could be concocted, Miss Hemming, who had night patrol, came in and discovered them. Her shrill scolding sent the girls scurrying to their beds. But after she left, Clara crept over to Kitty's bed to offer one last bit of hope. "I wouldn't despair, my love," she whispered. "I think you may be pleasantly surprised by your betrothed. Tobias Wishart is a very romantic-sounding name, isn't it? You may very well fall in love with him at first sight. And if you don't, you'll think of some way out of it. If there's anyone in the world who can find a way out of a fix, it's you."

The two girls embraced and, realizing it was for the last time, shed a few tears. Then Kitty buried her head in her pillow, expecting to spend a sleepless, agonizing night. How ever, her friend's last words echoed in her mind and gave her unexpected comfort. Although Clara was surely mistaken in hoping that she would fall in love with a fellow named Tobias (Tobias, ugh!), she was not mistaken in her evaluation of Kitty's talent for devising schemes. If Kitty found herself in a fix, she was quite capable of getting herself out of it. With that consoling thought, and with the resiliency of youth, she soon fell asleep.

The next morning proved to be so full of hectic activity that Kitty had no time to think. There were three trunks to pack, dozens of people to take fond leave of, addresses to exchange, and a special a.s.sembly of the entire faculty and student body (arranged by Miss Marchmont to honor her departing pupil) to attend. By the time the a.s.semblage had been dismissed, the carriage was in the drive, the gatekeeper was loading Kitty's trunks upon it, and Emily was waiting at the door with Kitty's bonnet and pelisse. Only then did Miss Marchmont remember that she'd done nothing about Lord Birkinshaw's request to find an abigail for Kitty. "Oh, dear!" she gasped, stricken.

"Where on earth shall I find someone for you now?" Kitty was so depressed at having to make this untimely departure that the subject didn't even interest her. "I'll manage without one," she told the headmistress, taking her bonnet from Emily's hand and thrusting it carelessly on her head. "But I can't allow you to travel all the way to Suffolk unchaperoned," Miss Marchmont stated flatly. "We must think of someone ..."

"Father's coachman will provide all the chaperonage I need. Besides, in my present mood I don't want to endure the company of some insipid biddy. If I had to listen to hours of nonsensical babble, I'd have the vapors."

Miss Marchmont snorted. "Vapors, indeed! I don't believe you even know what they are."

But Kitty didn't hear. Her attention had been caught by Emily, who was waiting to help her on with her pelisse.

Kitty's eyes lit up. If any of her friends had been watching, they would have recognized at once the dawn of a mischievous idea. Emily, she thought, Emily! Why didn't I think of her before? She'd be perfect!

Kitty turned to Miss Marchmont slowly. "Of course," she murmured softly, "if I had someone like Emily for my abigail..."

Emily gaped. "Me?"

The headmistress frowned. "Are you speaking of our Emily? No, no, my dear, Emily is quite out of the question."

"Really, Miss Marchmont?" Kitty looked curiously from one to the other. "Why is that? I'm sure my father would pay her well. And she and I have become very good friends. I know we'd suit-"

"Emily is not a servant!" the headmistress said firmly. "Her position here is something quite special-"

"I think I'd like to go with Miss Jessup, ma'am," Emily put in quietly.

Miss Marchmont's brows knit. "Are you serious, girl? You cannot wish to spend your life as a mere lady's maid-"

"But it wouldn't be for life, ma'am," Emily pointed out. "Only for a fortnight, isn't that so?"

"That's true, Miss Marchmont," Kitty said in eager support. "Only until my parents come to Suffolk for me."

The headmistress was not convinced. Taking Emily's arm, she led the girl aside. "Emily, my dear," she said in a low voice, "I don't wish to question your judgment, but I think you are making a hasty, impulsive leap. You know that I've been grooming you for a better life than you would have as a maidservant. I believe you capable of becoming a teacher... to join the faculty here, if you wish, or elsewhere, when you are ready. You will be able to earn a respectable competence and live the life of a gentlewoman. Do not throw that prospect aside on a sudden whim!"

"I know this is very sudden, ma'am. But surely a short time away from the academy would not ruin my prospects here, would it?" Emily asked.

"No, of course not. You would be most welcome to return at any time. But why do you wish to waste even a fortnight as Kitty Jessup's maid?"

Emily lowered her head. "It is difficult to explain. Please don't be cross with me, ma'am, for I don't mean to sound ungrateful for all you've done for me. But ..." She hesitated.

"Go on, girl, I'm listening," Miss Marchmont said impatiently.

"I've never spent a night away from here since I was nine." She raised her head and looked her mentor squarely in the eye. "Going away with Miss Jessup will be like a ... a holiday, don't you see?"

"A holiday? No, I'm afraid I don't see. Kitty Jessup is a clever, taking little minx, I admit, but how can doing her hair and pressing her skirts and running about at her beck and call be considered a holiday?"

"Because it would be a change, you see. I shall be able to look out of a window onto something new. And it is Miss Jessup, you know. She's so completely-how shall I say? Unpredictable. I have a feeling in my very bones that going off with her will be an adventure!"

Miss Marchmont studied her protege for a long moment. Then she merely nodded, turned, and strode back to Kitty.

"Very well, Miss Jessup, you win. You may have Emily as your abigail for a fortnight's adventure."

Kitty squealed in delight and threw her arms around her new maid. "Oh, splendid!" she cried. "That's absolutely splendid!"

Emily smiled one of her rare smiles. "Yes, miss. Splendid."

"Then let's not stand here gaping at one another," Kitty said, bouncing about in impatience. "Run and get your wrap at once!"

"But I have to pack my things-"

"Never mind that. I have more than enough for both of us." And without giving her time for more than s.n.a.t.c.hing up her shawl and giving Miss Marchmont a quick embrace, Kitty took the girl's hand and pulled her to the carriage.

"Oh, dear... this is all happening so quickly!" Emily gasped, pausing at the foot of the carriage steps.

Kitty grinned. "That's how adventures usually start."

"Adventures?" Emily gaped at her aghast. "How did you-?"

"Miss Marchmont said the word, and I understood at once." She turned the bewildered Emily about and propelled her up the steps. "If it's adventure you want, my girl," she said in her ear, "adventure you shall have."

Chapter Five.

Kitty waited until they'd left London far behind before she told Emily her plan. By this time Emily (who'd kept her nose pressed to the window, utterly fascinated with the pa.s.sing scene) had become so enchanted with this glimpse of the world beyond the gates of MarchmontAcademy that any lingering doubts about the wisdom of her decision to leave the school were completely dispelled. But when Kitty unfolded the details of what seemed to Emily an insane scheme, those doubts came hack at once. "Change places, miss? Pretend to be you? You're cozening me, aren't you? I couldn't! Not in a Million years!"

"Don't be a goosecap! Of course you could." "Miss Jessup, stop hamming me! You can't seriously wish me to take your ident.i.ty! To wear your clothes? To eat at the table with his lordship? To sit and chat with him? If you think me capable of doing all that, you've taken leave of your senses."

Kitty took no offense. She was accustomed to this sort of reaction. Every one of her wild proposals to her schoolmates had met with a negative reception at first. She'd always found it necessary to overcome a barrage of opposition, but her enthusiasm and her powers of persuasion had always won the day. She would win this struggle as she'd won all the others. "Believe me, Emily," she said, her eyes shining with excitement as she launched into an argument, "it won't be nearly as difficult as you imagine. You wanted an adventure, didn't you? This will be the greatest adventure of your life."

"I didn't bargain for this sort of adventure, miss. It could never work! I've been a maid-of-all-work all my days. I've never even set foot in a great house, much less sat down to dinner with a n.o.bleman. I wouldn't know what to do ... or say! I would die!"

"You underestimate yourself, my dear. You'd be much better at it than I, I a.s.sure you. Miss Hemming says I'm the greatest gawk alive. You, on the other hand, are graceful and pretty and speak in a lovely, low voice. You've been at the school for longer than I-why, you're going to teach deportment to clods like me! You're much more a lady than I could ever be. Really!"

Emily eyed her employer suspiciously. "You needn't flummery me, Miss Jessup. I know b.u.t.ter sauce when I smell it."

"It's not b.u.t.ter sauce, Emily, I swear. You'll find the whole thing much easier than you expect. All you need do is be yourself. Just act a bit proud, don't pick up anything anyone drops, don't call me miss, and don't curtsey to any of the servants, even the most hoity-toity of them."

"I just couldn't, Miss Jessup, I know it!" Emily insisted, feeling a rising panic. "And I'm not sure you could do it, either. You don't know what it's like to be a maidservant. I can a.s.sure you, you'd not find it pleasant."

"I'm not afraid of hard work. I think I should like it, rather. It will be like ... well, like an actress playing a role. I think I could make a rather good actress if I set my mind to it."

"But I don't think I would make a good actress, miss. Not at all! Besides, I don't know what you hope to gain by such a deception."

"I'll gain time, if nothing else." Kitty's voice quivered with earnest conviction. "I'll be able to observe Tobias Wishart without his knowing. I'll take note of all his faults. By the time my parents arrive, I'll have gained sufficient information to plead my case to my father. And even if I can't convince him that the match would be unsuitable, the Wisharts, when they learn what I've done, will be so disgusted with me that they won't wish me to wed into their family."

"But what if you find that you like Mr. Wishart? It will be too late then to make amends, won't it?"

"Yes, but it's extremely unlikely that I'd like him well enough to wish to wed him. That's the whole point, don't you see?" All the excitement of game-playing seemed suddenly to fade from her eyes as a shadow of sincere distress suffused her face. "I'm too young for marriage, Emily," she said quietly. "I haven't even lived yet. I want to be free for a while. I want to meet hundreds of eligibles before I'm shackled. To be thrust right from the schoolroom into wedlock seems to me to be vastly unfair. I shan't have had a chance to have fun! I want to go to parties, to flirt, to dance, to break a hundred hearts before I'm saddled with a husband. Do you understand?" Emily shook her head. "No, I don't think I do. If a n.o.bleman wanted me for a bride-to take me to live in his great estate, to provide me with servants and lovely clothes and jewels, to give me the freedom to spend my days with books and a pianoforte of my own-why, I'd think I was the most fortunate girl in the world."

"That's what you think now. But if you had to spend weeks, months, years with a stuffy old bore of a husband who would be forever giving you orders and scolding you for buying too many hats and keeping you from going to parties with your friends and expecting you to sit on his knee whenever he liked ... well, you might not think yourself so fortunate. Meanwhile, I'm offering you the chance to live your dream, if only for a fortnight. You'll live on a great estate, with servants and lovely clothes and all my jewels (which are not worth a queen's ransom, I admit, but my grandmother's pearls are quite lovely, and I have with me a garnet brooch that was given to the third Lord Birkinshaw by Charles the First), and you'll be quite free to read and play the piano to your heart's content."

Emily was not convinced. "And when the deception is discovered, and I am being marched off to the gallows, I can console myself with my memories of my magnificent masquerade, is that it?"

"Nothing dreadful will happen to you, Emily, I promise! I shall take all the blame. I shall declare that I forced you into this deception and that, since you are in my employ, you had no choice but to obey. Please, my dear, say you'll do it. It is the only way I can think of to save my life."

Emily wrung her hands nervously. "I don't wish to disoblige you, miss, I truly don't. But my innards are shaking already. I'm bound to make a botch of it."

"No, you won't, Emily. I'll be your abigail, at your side whenever you need me. It's only for a fortnight, after all."

Emily had to succ.u.mb. She would be given no peace until she did, she knew. When Kitty Jessup made up her mind, there was no stopping her.

When Kitty realized she'd won, she embraced the maid with a glad cry and immediately set about implementing her plan. She undressed herself down to her under-petticoat made Emily do the same. The two changed clothing, Kitty giggling with pleasure at her transformation into shabbiness and Emily moaning with trepidation despite the unaccustomed but pleasant sensation of silk and l.u.s.tring against her skin. Kitty's clothes were a bit too large for Emily, but the girls managed to make do with the help of a few pins from Emily's (now Kitty's) well-stocked pocket. When the clothes had been exchanged, Kitty turned her attention to their hair. She undid Emily's braid and recombed her hair into a more stylish knot at the nape of her neck, making sure that a few soft tendrils were permitted to escape at the sides of her face. Then Emily loosened Kitty's fashionable bun and let the red tresses hang loose in their natural disarray. This would do for a housemaid during travel, she warned, but Kitty would have to pin it up or braid it during her "working hours." For the time being, however, Emily provided her with a shabby mobcap which partially covered her unruly locks. The cap was an unmistakable symbol of her new station in life, and it would suffice to make her hair presentable.

The only real difficulty the girls encountered occurred when they tried to exchange footwear. Kitty's foot was larger than Emily's; she couldn't squeeze her foot into Emily's worn boots without giving herself a great deal of discomfort. In the end each girl had to wear her own. "No one will notice," Kitty said rea.s.suringly. "During the bustle of arrival, everyone will be too busy to notice our shoes. And once we've unpacked, we can stuff the toes of all my slippers with paper. You'll do very well that way. As for me, I'll scuff up the tips of these half-boots in a coal scuttle at the first opportunity. We shall brush through, I promise you. Well, how do I look?" Emily had to admit that Kitty looked every inch a dowdy little Irish housemaid. But she would not agree that she, Emily, could ever pa.s.s for a great lady. It was not until Kitty placed her feathered bonnet upon Emily's head and made her look into a hand mirror that Emily was convinced. Seeing herself so splendidly arrayed left her speechless for a moment.

Then she whispered, awe-struck, "Good heavens, Miss Jessup, is that me?"

They exchanged seats (with Kitty riding backward this time) and tried to adjust their minds to their new roles.

Emily's hand caressed the soft l.u.s.tring of her new skirt while she tried to drill herself in the proper (for a lady) use of names and t.i.tles. She must not, she warned herself, let herself slip and call Miss Jessup miss. Miss Jessup must, from now on, be called Emily.

"And say it arrogantly," Kitty reminded her. "You're the mistress, and if I don't come at your beck, you must be very severe with me."

The maid cast her employer a look that combined doubt with reproach. "Easy for you to say," she muttered.

They arrived at EdgertonPark in the late afternoon. Both young ladies had their noses pressed to the carriage windows to see the manor house. Once inside the estate's ma.s.sive gate, they drove down a long avenue lined with old rhododendrons and thick, dark yews that hid the view. When the carriage made a final turn and the mansion burst into view, they both gasped. The house was enormous, with a wide, three-storied facade and two lower wings. It was built in the grand Palladian manner, with window arches and a beautiful Corinthian portico topped by the most impressive pediment Kitty had ever seen. The whole structure seemed to be set upon three ma.s.sive stone platforms that formed a multileveled terrace extending several feet beyond the front doorway.

While they gaped, the front door opened and the butler emerged, followed by two footmen. The butler made his way across the terrace with measured dignity. He bowed to the faces in the coach window without the flicker of a smile, although anyone else would have found the girls' ingenuous awe amusing. The Edgerton butler was famous among his peers for his lack of facial expression; he'd long ago trained his face in impa.s.sivity. The butler was proud of the fact that he'd never been caught in a smile.

While the footmen let down the carriage steps, the butler himself opened the carriage door and helped Emily to climb down. Kitty waited for him to do the same for her, but he quite ignored her. For a moment, Kitty was nonplussed by the seeming rudeness, but a nervous glance from Emily reminded her that there were some niceties she would have to learn to do without.

The butler bowed again to Emily. "Welcome to Edgerton, Miss Jessup," he said. "I'm Naismith, his lordship's butler." "How do you do, N-Naismith?" Emily managed. Kitty jumped down from the carriage just in time to see a tall gentleman emerge from the doorway. They all watched in silence as he approached. He wore a casual coat of gray corduroy and a pair of country boots, but he seemed to the two goggle-eyed girls to be the most elegant creature they'd ever set eyes upon. Kitty realized at once that this gentleman could not be her betrothed. She had the distinct impression from her father's letter that Tobias Wishart was still a youth; this gentleman was quite old-thirty at least. He must be Lord Edgerton, Wishart's older brother. But a fleeting thought crossed her mind that if the younger Wishart resembled his brother it would be no bad thing.

"Miss Jessup!" Lord Edgerton said, striding up to Emily and taking her hand. "What a delightful surprise! We didn't expect you 'til nightfall. Your coachman has made good time."

Kitty felt her heart jump. She'd forgotten about the coachman! Her father had sent Gowan, who'd known her since childhood. He was now occupied with untying the luggage, but at any moment he could notice what was going on and give the game away!

"Yes, your lordship," Emily was murmuring shyly. "I am very p-pleased to meet you."

Kitty noted with relief that Gowan had gone to the back of the coach to help the two footmen unload the trunks and thus would be unable to see whom his lordship was greeting. Edgerton, meanwhile, was offering Emily his arm. "May I show you inside?" he was asking her, looking at her face with a slightly upraised brow. "I believe Naismith has a tea table ready."

"Well, I ... er..." Emily threw Kitty a look of terrified desperation. ". . . the luggage, you know..." Kitty glared at her. "I'll see to the luggage, miss," she said pointedly, while at the same time-playing with her role by giving herself a tinge of Irish in her speech. "Sure you've no need't' worry yerself. Go along with his lordship." She gave Emily a little nudge and grinned widely. "You don't want the nice tea gettin' cold, now do ye?"

"Your abigail is quite right," Lord Edgerton said, firmly drawing Emily's arm through his. "We can't have you drinking cold tea. Besides, my mother is awaiting us. She's most eager to make your acquaintance."

"Th-thank you, your lordship," Emily murmured, taking a deep breath and proceeding across the terrace on his arm.

"You know, Miss Jessup," Kitty heard him say just as they moved out of earshot, "you're not quite as I expected." But Emily's response could not be heard. The pair, followed by the impa.s.sive butler and both the footmen, soon disappeared from sight. Kitty frowned, not at all certain about Emily's ability to carry this off. To make matters worse, she was equally uncertain about her own role in this affair. For instance, what she was supposed to do next?