A Lady by Midnight (Spindle Cove #3)

Her eyes shimmered. “Promise you’ll return?”


“You have my word.”

She had his word, his heart, his soul, his life. Always.

And he had a few days. A few days’ time—to change his life and place a wild, reckless wager on the future.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kate stood before a mirror in the Queen’s Ruby.

Fretting.

It was all very well and good for Samuel to say men didn’t fret. But he was cruel to give her so much reason to fret herself. Nearly a week had passed since their night at the castle, and she hadn’t heard a word. While she had no reason to doubt his intentions, the longer she went without breaking the news to the Gramercys, the more of a liar she felt.

All week long the Gramercys had gone about making plans for Ambervale and Town. Parties they would host, places they would take her to see, people to whom she would be introduced. Kate tried to limit her responses to noncommittal nods and polite smiles, but she knew she was giving them the impression that she meant to come live with them forever.

Now it was the night of the ball. In a matter of hours she would be introduced as Lady Katherine Gramercy to all of Spindle Cove. To be sure, this was not exactly English high society—but word would spread to London, and soon. When she eloped to America with an enlisted man just weeks thereafter—wouldn’t that be a public embarrassment for the Gramercys?

And if her connection to the Hothouse ever became public . . . if the gossips of London ever learned that a onetime Marchioness of Drewe had lived as a Southwark opera dancer . . .

That would be a scandal of the worst order. It could affect the entire family’s standing and destroy Lark’s prospects.

Kate knew she could spare them pain by leaving quietly with Thorne. The inheritance didn’t matter to her. But it must be done before they made her identity public.

She couldn’t wait for Samuel any longer. She needed to speak with Evan, tonight.

She twisted and turned before the small mirror, judging her reflection. The color had been Lark’s suggestion—a lush cobalt-blue silk with a lace overlay in a darker, midnight shade of indigo. The hue seemed rather daring for an unmarried lady, but they wanted her to stand out. And she always felt her best in blue.

“Oh, Kate. Aren’t you lovely.”

Aunt Marmoset entered the room. The older woman was dressed in a long, draped violet gown and matching gloves. An ostrich plume adorned her wispy, upswept hair.

Kate fidgeted with a curl at her temple, trying to arrange it just over her birthmark. “I can’t make this curl cooperate.”

“Let me try.” Aunt Marmoset plucked a hairpin from the dressing table, beckoning Kate to duck her head. “There now.”

Kate stood and looked in the mirror again. Aunt Marmoset had pinned the curl back, smoothing it away from her face entirely.

“Don’t hide the mark, dear. It’s what makes you one of us.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s an old habit, and I can’t help being nervous tonight,” she confessed.

The older woman came to stand beside her in the mirror, sliding an arm about her waist. The ostrich feather barely grazed Kate’s shoulder. “Lark always likes it when I stand beside her,” Aunt Marmoset said. “She says I make her look tall.”

“I don’t know about tall, but I do feel stronger when you’re near.” In the mirror, Kate watched a tentative smile spread across her own face.

“Ah,” said Aunt Marmoset. “I knew your appearance wasn’t quite complete, but I couldn’t place the deficiency. That smile was missing.”

“Thank you for helping me find it.”

“You might wish I hadn’t. I was on the verge of giving you this instead.”

Aunt Marmoset unclenched one frail, knobby hand. From it unfurled a slender gold chain. And at the end of the chain dangled a pendant.

The pendant.

“Oh my goodness,” Kate gasped.

A quick glance toward her mother’s portrait confirmed it. It was the same teardrop of dark blue stone, veined with amber and white. So distinctive, that stone, with its lacy, scalloped layers of light and dark. It reminded her of when Sir Lewis showed the ladies a bit of butterfly wing under a magnifier.

“Where did this come from?” Kate asked, amazed.

“I asked the servants to pack my jewelry from Ambervale and send it down for the ball. Evidently, the maid found this hidden away in the dressing table and assumed it was mine. But it isn’t mine at all, is it? It’s yours.”

“How wonderful.”

“Let’s have it on.” Aunt Marmoset fixed the chain about Kate’s neck.

Kate turned to view it in the mirror. The indigo-blue pendant dangled just at her breastbone.

“It’s lovely,” Aunt Marmoset said.