of...â She sighed. âMother. Or perhaps Mama?â
âYou hate when I call you Mother. You have to be joking.â
âI most certainly am not. Henceforth, at least in publicânot that I consider this scampâs presence as anywhere near public âyou will address me as Mother.â
âThe gifts heaped on your shoulders just keep mounting, Coop, you lucky dog. Either that, or this figurative hole you spoke of is growing deeper.â
âShut up, Darby. All right, Mother , since you insist. Now why donât you retire to your chamber, where Iâm certain Rose has laid out some sort of refreshment.â
âPerhaps even turnip pie,â Darby said quietly. Too quietly for Minerva to hear, but close enough for Coop to not only hear but be forced to manfully repress a laugh.
Minerva looked from one to the other. âHe said something, didnât he? Something amusing. What did he say?â
âNothing MinâMother. Darbyâs mouth moves, but he rarely says anything of importance.â
Minerva smoothed the front of her gown, clearly settling herself in for the duration. âWell, at least we agree on something. Now, shall we travel back to the problem that isnât your problem, because it definitely seemed very much your problem when I arrived? Come on, lads, one of you open your mouth and say something important, because Iâm not leaving here until you do.â
âRace you to the door,â Darby whispered, careful not to move his lips. âUnless you can come up with a convincing fib? Because youâre wrong about the countessâs retirement to her bedchamber, Coopâyou need Miss Foster out and about in Society.â
And that, Cooper was to tell himself later, was how Darby helped him dig that lifelong figurative hole even deeper, until he thought he could see a Chinamanâs straw hat.
CHAPTER SIX
D RAT THE MAN , Dany thought, standing in front of the pier glass in the hallway just outside the drawing room, slapping her gloves against her thigh. And drat Mari, so firmly sunk beneath the covers that it would take an expedition to find her.
Does one have oneâs gloves on before her escortâs arrival? Does one appeared gloved and hatted and panting like a puppy eager to be put to the leash? Does one race back upstairs, only to descendâgracefully, of courseâwhen the gentleman is announced? Which would be past ridiculous, since that would mean his horses would be left standing while he waited for her to become gloved and hatted and fill the awkward silence with inane chatter such as, âOh, dear, how the time has flown,â or âGracious, I had entirely forgotten Iâd agreed to drive with you in the park.â
Whopping great help Mari had been, only lamenting, âFor the love of heaven, why wonât she go away,â when Dany had sat herself on the bed and asked these questions.
So here she stood, still not gloved, although sheâd decided the military-type shako might take more than one attempt to settle it jauntily enough over her right eye and finally donned it. Amazingly, with her hands trembling ever so slightly, she managed the perfect level of jaunty in one try.
Did Emmaline ride with her? Did she, hopefully not, plunk herself down on the seat between the baron and her mistress? If he brought an open town carriage, there would be two seats, and she could have the maid facing herâand watching herâfor the entire time. And wouldnât that be above all things wonderful, since Emmaline possessed an alarming tendency to giggle.
But no. Young gentlemen didnât favor such equipages. He was bound to show up with some outlandish curricle, or high perch phaeton (and wouldnât climbing up into that be interesting, while attempting to keep her ankles covered and her rump inconspicuous?). What about a tiger? Did the baron have one, some poor, terrified young lad in garish livery,