A Christmas Bride by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

Rupert.”
    â€œAnd the other?” Serenity asked. She wanted to know as much as she could about this household and its residents and guests so she did not ruin his plan.
    â€œThe other is Melanda Hayes, who is, without question, one of the most vexing people in England.” He winked at Mrs. Scott. “Or mayhap in the whole world.”
    â€œYou have traveled farther than I have, my lord,” she said in the same precise tone. “I will have to leave that judgment to you while you leave Miss Adams to me. The earl wants her to rest after her ordeal.”
    â€œSo rest she shall.” Timothy chuckled. “How are you, Mrs. Scott? You look well.”
    â€œOther than the knee …” She set the bonnet on the dressing table and smiled. “Life would not be interesting if it were perfect.”
    â€œAnd the plans are going well?”
    Mrs. Scott glanced at the bed.
    â€œI have taken Miss Adams into my confidence about many of the details of the plans for Grandfather’s party.” Timothy’s smile wavered again, and Serenity guessed he would tell her the whole of it as soon as he could, so he did not have to be false with the housekeeper. “You can speak plainly in front of her about any of it.”
    â€œBut not now!” She wagged a finger at him. “My lord, the earl wishes Miss Adams to rest now .”
    â€œI understand.” He brushed Serenity’s face with the back of his fingertips. “Rest well, sweetheart.”
    Her heart thudded against her chest. Because of his touch? Because of his words? She must have hit her head even harder than she had guessed if she would give credence to either. This was a game only.
    â€œYes,” she whispered, “I shall rest.” Mayhap, when she woke, she would have herself back under control, so she would not react so strongly to what was only playacting.
    Shutting her eyes, she watched from under her lashes as Timothy turned away from the bed. He walked away only a few steps, motioning for Mrs. Scott to come over to where he stood. Only by straining could she hear their low voices.
    â€œMiss Adams will need to replace her wardrobe that was destroyed in the carriage accident,” he said.
    A wardrobe! Her eyes popped open. She had not realized how much this deception would cost Timothy. It was only a few weeks until Christmas. To spend all that money on a wardrobe for her that she could not use when she regained her memories and went back into service seemed ludicrous.
    â€œOf course.” Mrs. Scott smiled at her. “If you will give me the name and address of your modiste, Miss Adams, I shall have a message sent for her to come here.”
    Serenity bit her lower lip. A seamstress? She had no idea of the name of any.
    â€œMy dear Serenity,” Timothy said so quickly that she doubted if Mrs. Scott had noticed her hesitation, “I recall you telling me that you had admired a bosom-bow’s dress and had learned of Madame DuLac’s skill with a needle. Mrs. Scott, I shall give you the address. I believe Miss Adams should rest now.”
    â€œThose were your grandfather’s orders.” Mrs. Scott’s eyes twinkled. “If you will be so kind to recall that , my lord.”
    â€œI doubt you would allow me to forget.” Timothy grinned again. “I shall leave Miss Adams to your capable care while I retrieve Madame’s address.”
    Serenity let her shoulders relax back into the pillows as he walked out of the room, which seemed so empty without him. Don’t be absurd! With the fire dancing on the hearth as the wind teased the windows, this was probably the finest room she had ever been in.
    Mrs. Scott walked over to the bed and smiled. “May I say that, despite the mishaps you suffered on your way here, you look well?”
    â€œThank you.” Cheyney Park must have the most efficient system of gossip in all of England. Serenity was unsure if anyone had