His words trailed off, and he saw the silent question resting in her eyes. "We will be together," he vowed. "I promise you."

In the end, he had to kiss her one last time. “The future looks very bright," he whispered, the words soft and sweet against her lips. "Very bright indeed."


* * *

Elizabeth held those words close to her heart ten days later, when there was still no sign of James. She wasn't certain why she was so optimistic about the future; she was still a lady's companion and James was still an estate manager, and neither of them possessed a cent, but somehow she trusted in his abilities to make the future, as he had put it, bright.

Maybe he was expecting an inheritance from a distant relative. Maybe he knew one of the masters at Eton and could arrange for Lucas to attend at a reduced rate. Maybe…

Maybe maybe maybe. Life was full of maybes, but suddenly "maybe" held a lot more promise.

After so many years of shouldering responsibility, she felt almost giddy at abandoning her constant sense of worry. If James said he could solve her problems, she believed him. Maybe she was foolish, thinking a man could swoop into her life and make everything perfect. After all, her father hadn't exactly been a model of dependability and rectitude.

But surely she deserved a little bit of magic in her life. Now that she had found James, she couldn't bring herself to look for pitfalls and dangers. Her heart felt lighter than it had in years, and she refused to think that anything might steal that bliss away.

Lady Danbury confirmed that James had been granted a brief leave to visit his family. It was a singular boon for an estate manager, but Elizabeth assumed that James was given greater latitude and consideration due to his family's slight connection to the Danburys.

What was odd, however, was Lady Danbury's near-constant state of irritability. She may have given James time to tend to his business, but she clearly had not done so with great grace and charity. Elizabeth could not count the number of times she'd caught Lady D grumbling about his absence.

Lately, though, Lady Danbury had been too preoccupied with her upcoming masquerade ball to defame James. It was to be the largest ball held at Danbury House in years, and the entire staff-plus the fifty extra servants brought in just for the event-was buzzing with activity. Elizabeth could barely make it from the sitting room to the library (which was only three doors down) without tripping over someone or other, racing to Lady Danbury with questions about the guest list, or the menu, or the Chinese lanterns, or the costumes, or…

Yes, costumes. Plural. Much to Elizabeth's shock, Lady Danbury had arranged for two costumes. Queen Elizabeth for herself, and a shepherdess girl for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was not amused.

"I am not going to carry that crook around with me all night," she swore.

"Crook, ha. That's nothing," Lady D chortled. "Just wait until you see the sheep."

"Whaaaat?"

"I'm only kidding. Good heavens, girl, you must develop a better sense of humor."

Elizabeth spluttered a great deal of nonsense before finally managing to get out, "I beg your pardon!"

Lady D waved her hand dismissively. "I know, I know. Now you're going to tell me that anyone who has survived five years working for me must be in possession of an excellent sense of humor."

"Something like that," Elizabeth muttered.

"Or perhaps that if you didn't have a stellar sense of humor you'd by now have been killed by the torture of serving as my companion."

Elizabeth blinked. "Lady Danbury, I think you might be developing a sense of humor yourself."

"Euf. At my age one has to have a sense of humor. It's the only way to make it through the day."

Elizabeth only smiled.

"Where's my cat?"

"I have no idea, Lady Danbury. I haven't seen him this morning."

Lady D twisted her head this way and that, speaking as she scanned the room for Malcolm. "Still," she pontificated, "one would think I would receive at least a token more respect."

“I certainly don't know what you mean by such a comment."

Lady Danbury's expression was wry. "Between you and James, 1 shall never be allowed to grow too big for my britches."

Before Elizabeth could reply, Lady D turned back around and said, "At my age it's my right to be too big for my britches."

"And what age would that be today?"

Lady D wagged her finger. "Don't be sly. You know very well how old I am."

"I do my best to keep track of it."

"Hmmph. Where's my cat?"

Since she had already replied to that question, Elizabeth instead asked, "When, ah, do you expect Mr. Siddons to return?"

Lady Danbury's eyes were far too perceptive when she asked, “My errant estate manager?''

"Yes."

"I don't know, drat the man. We're falling into complete ruin here."

Elizabeth glanced through the window at the endless pristine lawns of Danbury House. "You might be overstating slightly."

Lady D started to say something, but Elizabeth held up her hand and said, "And don't tell me that at your age it's your prerogative to exaggerate."

"Well, it is. Hmmph. Malcolm!"

Elizabeth's eyes flicked to the door. The king of Danbury House was padding into the sitting room, his fat paws moving silently across the carpet.

"There you are, sweetie," Lady Danbury cooed. "Come to Mama."

But Malcolm didn't even flick his cafe au lait tail at her. While Lady D watched in horror, her cat trotted straight to Elizabeth and hopped up on her lap.

"Good kitty," Elizabeth purred.

"What is going on here?" Lady D demanded.

"Malcolm and I have come to a rapprochement of sorts."

"But he hates you!"

"Why, Lady Danbury," Elizabeth said, pretending to be shocked. "All these years you have insisted that he's a perfectly friendly kitty."

"He's certainly a perfect kitty," Lady D muttered.

"Not to mention all the times you told me this was all in my head."

"I lied!"

Elizabeth slapped a hand against her cheek in mock disbelief. "No!"

"I want my cat back."

Elizabeth shrugged. Malcolm flipped over onto his back and stretched out with his paws over his head.

"Miserable traitorous feline."

Elizabeth smiled down at the cat as she rubbed the fur under his chin. “Life is good, eh, Malcolm? Life is very, very good."

Malcolm purred in agreement, and Elizabeth knew it had to be true.


* * *

Back in London, James was frustrated as hell. He'd spent well over a week investigating Agatha's life and had come up with nothing. He couldn't find a soul who even knew of anyone with a grudge against his aunt. Oh, plenty of people had plenty to say about her acerbic wit and direct manner, but no one truly hated her.

Furthermore, there was nary a hint of a whisper of scandal surrounding her past. As far as London was concerned, Agatha, Lady Danbury, had led an exemplary life. Upstanding and true, she was lauded the prime example of proper English womanhood.

Truth be told, he couldn't remember ever pursuing an investigation that was quite so boring.

He'd known that it was unlikely he'd find anything substantive; after all, the blackmailer had sought out his aunt in Surrey. But he'd unearthed no clues at Danbury House, and London had seemed the logical next step. If Agatha's enemy had learned of her secret past through the ton's brilliantly efficient gossip mill, then it stood to reason that someone in London would know something.

James had been bitterly disappointed.

There was nothing to do now except return to Danbury House and hope that the blackmailer had made another demand. This seemed unlikely, however; surely his aunt would have notified him if she'd received another threatening note. She knew where to reach him; he'd told her exactly where he was going and what he hoped to accomplish.

Agatha had argued bitterly against his leaving. She had been convinced that her blackmailer would be found in Surrey, skulking in the shadows of Danbury House. By the time James exited through the front door, Agatha had been in fine form, grumpy and sullen, more irritable than her cat.

James winced when he thought of poor Elizabeth, stuck in his aunt's surly company for the past week. But if anyone could draw Agatha out of her temper, he was convinced it was Elizabeth.

Three more days. He would devote no more time to his London investigation. Three days and then he would return to Danbury House, announce his failure to his aunt and his intentions to Elizabeth.

Three more days and he could begin his life anew.


* * *

By Friday afternoon, Danbury House was under siege. Elizabeth locked herself in the library for a full hour just to get away from the swarms of servants readying the mansion for that night's masquerade celebration. There was no escape from the frenzied activity, however; Lady Danbury had insisted that Elizabeth make her preparations at Danbury House. It was a sensible proposal, eliminating the need for Elizabeth to travel home and then return in full costume. But it also made it impossible for her to slip away for a few minutes of peace.

The time in the library didn't count. How could it count when no less than five servants banged on the door, requesting her opinion on the most inane of matters. Finally Elizabeth had to throw up her hands and yell, “Ask Lady Danbury!"

When the first of the carriages rolled down the drive, Elizabeth fled upstairs to the room Lady Danbury had assigned to her for the evening. The dreaded shepherdess costume hung in the wardrobe, accompanying crook leaning against the wall.