The Taming of a Scottish Princess Paperback - 2012

Summary

Excerpt

a>CHAPTER 1

From the diary of Michael Hurst, famous explorer and Egyptologist:

Finally, I have the entire treasure map in my possessionâÈ'the one that will lead us to the lost Hurst Amulet, which was taken from my family so many centuries ago. I was certain the map revealed the final clue to the amuletâÈçs location and I was ready to proceed thus. Or I was until my blasted assistant, the redoubtable Miss Jane Smythe-Haughton, made a completely unrequested observation that I was âÈêanything but well versed in this particular form of cartographyâÈë and I should have an expert examine the bloody thing.

Her distrust in my knowledge is as large as it is abiding. However, IâÈçm now forced to prove myself, so IâÈçm having the map reviewed by a renowned expert. Once I receive confirmation that my theory is correct, we will begin the final quest for the amulet. After, of course, I finish mocking Jane to hell and back for her disbelief in my profound and infallible map-reading abilities.

London, England

October 12, 1822

Michael Hurst ignored the stir of excitement that flowed across the ballroom at his entrance. âÈêDamn fools,âÈë he muttered, tugging on his cravat.

His sister Mary sent him an exasperated glance. âÈêLeave that alone.âÈë

âÈêItâÈçs choking me.âÈë

âÈêItâÈçs fashionable and you must look presentable.âÈë At his annoyed glare, she added in an earnest tone, âÈêMichael, this ballroom is full of potential investors for your expeditions.âÈë

Potential headaches were what they were. âÈêIâÈçm here, arenâÈçt I?âÈë he asked irritably. âÈêWhereâÈçs that damned refreshment table? If IâÈçm going to face these monkeys, IâÈçll need a drink.âÈë

âÈêTheyâÈçre not monkeys, but lovely women whoâÈ'âÈë She caught his expression and grimaced. âÈêPerhaps a drink will improve your spirits. Lady Bellforth usually sets the refreshment table by the library doors.âÈë

He nodded and stepped in that direction. As if in answer to that one step, fans and lashes fluttered, seemingly hoping to trap him in a gossamer hold. âÈêFor the love of Ra,âÈë he said through gritted teeth, âÈêdonâÈçt they have anything better to do than stare?âÈë

âÈêYouâÈçre famous,âÈë Mary said calmly.

âÈêI donâÈçt wish to be famous.âÈë

âÈêBut you are, so youâÈçll just have to live with it.âÈë She placed a hand on his arm. âÈêJust smile and nod and weâÈçll make our way through this crowd in no time at all.âÈë

âÈêSmiling wonâÈçt work, but this will.âÈë He scowled instead, noticing with glee that several of the flowery fans stopped fluttering.

âÈêMichael, you canâÈçtâÈ'âÈë

He placed his hand firmly under her elbow and led her into the crowd, scowling at first one hopeful-looking miss and then another. They blushed, then sagged, as if heâÈçd stabbed their empty little hearts.

Mary made an impatient noise and then said in a low voice, âÈêWeâÈçll never get another sponsor if you keep that up. These women are the daughters and sisters of wealthy men who could aid your expeditions greatly!âÈë

âÈêThey are cotton-headed bits of fluff, and I refuse to pander to them.âÈë He almost stopped when one of them boldly winked at him. âÈêGood God, what happened to female modesty while I was in the wilds of Egypt?âÈë

âÈêMore to the point, what happened to gentlemanly manners?âÈë

âÈêI left those worthless skills on the reedy shores of the Nile,âÈë he retorted. âÈêGood riddance, too.âÈë

She gave him a sour look. âÈêOur brothers are right: you have turned into a barbarian.âÈë

âÈêWhy? Because I do and say what must be said?âÈë

âÈêNo, because you barrel through life and never stop to consider the consequences of your words and actions. IâÈ'âÈë

A young woman stepped into their path, almost thrust into place by the girls who circled behind her.

Tall, with a large nose and auburn curls, decorated with pearl pins, she appeared to be all of seventeen. âÈêMr. Hurst! How nice to see you again.âÈë She dipped a grand curtsy, her smirk letting him know that she expected a welcome greeting.

Michael lifted a brow but said nothing.

Her cheeks bloomed red, her lips pressed in swift irritation, though she hid it almost immediately behind a forced smile. âÈêIâÈçm Miss Lydia Latham. We met at Lady MacLeanâÈçs soiree.âÈë

Michael stared as Miss Latham held out her hand expectantly.

âÈêOoof!âÈë He rubbed his side and glared at his sister, whoâÈçd just elbowed him. âÈêMust you?âÈë

âÈêYes.âÈë She leaned closer and said through her gritted smile in a voice only he could hear, âÈêI will stomp on your foot right here and now, in front of the entire world, if you donâÈçt take her hand and at least pretend you are a gentleman.âÈë

Michael suddenly remembered when, as a child, MaryâÈçd once tossed him head over heels into an icy pond for nothing more than laughing at her new hairstyle. Of course, sheâÈçd been younger then, and less prone to care what others thought of her public deportment. He wondered for a bare second if she would really cause a scene, but the icy gleam in her eye made him think better of finding out.

With a grimace, Michael turned to the waiting girl, took her proffered hand, and held it the minimal time required by politeness before releasing it. âÈêMiss Latham,âÈë he intoned with as little enthusiasm as possible.

Miss Latham beamed as if heâÈçd just conferred a cask of gold coins upon her. âÈêI knew youâÈçd remember me. We spoke at length about the Rosetta stone.âÈë

âÈêDid we?âÈë he asked in a bored tone.

âÈêOh, yes! IâÈçve read every word youâÈçve ever written.âÈë

âÈêI doubt that, unless youâÈçve managed to sneak into my bedchamber and procure my diaries. IâÈçm fairly sure no one has read those but me.âÈë

Mary murmured a protest under her breath, but he ignored her.

Miss LathamâÈçs face turned several shades pinker and she tittered nervously. âÈêOh, no! I would never, ever sneak into a manâÈçs bedchamber.âÈë

âÈêMoreâÈçs the pitâÈ'âÈë

âÈêMichael,âÈë Mary interjected hurriedly, shooting him a dagger glance before she offered a kind smile to the sublimely unaware Miss Latham. âÈêWhat my brother means to say is that The Morning Post serial is but a small portion of his writings. HeâÈçs the author of many scientific treatises on various artifacts and ruins that heâÈçs unearthed, andâÈ'âÈë

âÈêMy diaries,âÈë he said smoothly.

One of the other girlsâÈ'they could hardly be called women, as they were gazing at him as if he were a sweet cake and they were ready to devour himâÈ'clasped her hands together and said in a soulful tone, âÈêIâÈçve never known a man to keep a diary.âÈë

âÈêAnd just how many men do you know?âÈë Michael asked, irritated to be placed upon a pedestal for the most mundane of things.

Mary glared at him as if she were fighting the urge to toss him back into a pond. She said under her breath, âÈêNo one will invite you anywhere if you continue like that.âÈë

âÈêNonsense,âÈë he assured her en sotto. âÈêThey are too silly to know any better.âÈë

As if to prove his point, yet another girl, this one with brown hair and a protruding chin, said brazenly, as if every word were a challenge that he wouldnâÈçt be able to resist, âÈêMr. Hurst, I daresay our petty little parties bore you to death.âÈë

âÈêYes, they do.âÈë

Not realizing he found their party boring because of inane comments like hers, she sent her companions a triumphant glance. âÈêI knew it! A ball is too tame for him after wrestling crocodiles andâÈ'âÈë

âÈêHold!âÈë Michael frowned. âÈêDid you say âÈæwrestling crocodilesâÈç?âÈë

âÈêWhy, yes.âÈë When his brow creased, she added in a helpful tone, âÈêYou wrote about it in the The Morning Post just last month.âÈë

MaryâÈçs hand slipped from where it had been resting on his arm.

âÈêPray excuse me for just one moment,âÈë Michael told the vapid ingénue before he turned.

His sister was two steps away, looking for a way to escape, but the crowdâÈ'trying to get closer to hear him speakâÈ'pressed too closely.

He grasped her elbow and pulled her back to his side. âÈêThereâÈçs never a trapdoor about when you most need one, is there?âÈë

Face red, she glanced at their interested audience. With obvious effort, she fixed a frozen smile on her face. âÈêPardon me, but my poor brother is famished and needs nourishment.âÈë With that, she locked her arm through his, turned on her heel, put down her head, and burrowed her way through the crowd.

Michael allowed her to tug him along, glad to be rid of the pests in laces who stared after them.

They reached the refreshment table, where Mary quickly selected two half-filled cups and grabbed a small plate upon which sat a tiny piece of stale cake. Then, with an air of determination, she found an alcove hidden from prying eyes. Once there, she let out a huge sigh and dropped wearily upon the small settee provided for those fatigued from dancing.

âÈêA crocodile?âÈë Michael asked. âÈêWhatâÈ'âÈë

âÈêShush!âÈë She gestured for him to take a cup. âÈêGive me a moment to rest before you quiz me. I vow but I was holding my breath during that entire conversation. I just knew youâÈçd be rude and ruin all of our efforts.âÈë

Michael sniffed his cup and then took an exploratory sip. He choked. âÈêBloody hell, what is this stuff?âÈë

âÈêOrgeat, which youâÈçd know if youâÈçd throw your mind back to the few dances Mother and I dragged you to as a youth.âÈë

âÈêItâÈçs vile.âÈë Michael dumped the contents of his cup into a nearby plant, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver flask.

Mary paused, her own cup halfway to her lips. âÈêScotch?âÈë

âÈêYes. And damned good Scotch, too. Our beloved brother-in-law Hugh sent it to me.âÈë Michael filled his cup from his flask. âÈêI admired the MacLean stock while visiting Hugh and our sister Triona several years ago, and he sent me a case. IâÈçm almost to the end of it, so I may need to visit them again.âÈë

âÈêPerhaps I need to visit them.âÈë Mary wistfully eyed his cup. âÈêTriona was sad not to join us here in London.âÈë

Michael paused in taking a drink. âÈêIâÈçm surprised she hasnâÈçt yet been to town.âÈë

âÈêMam told her not to.âÈë

âÈêWhatâÈçs our grandmother to do with TrionaâÈçs travel plans?âÈë

âÈêTrionaâÈçs hoping to have a child and Mam specifically told her she should stay home just now andâÈ'âÈë

âÈêHold. TrionaâÈçs following MamâÈçs advice?âÈë

âÈêOur grandmother is a healer. A noted healer.âÈë

âÈêNoted by a village full of uneducated fools.âÈë

MaryâÈçs gaze narrowed. âÈêSheâÈçs helped many people.âÈë

âÈêMany people think sheâÈçs helped them.âÈë

âÈêIsnâÈçt that the same?âÈë

âÈêNo. MamâÈçs tendencies toward the flamboyant would have served her well upon the stage but do little to recommend her as a healer. If Triona and Hugh wish for a child, they would do better to come to London and see a physician.âÈë

âÈêTrionaâÈçs already been to every physician in London and Edinburgh. She and Hugh even went to Italy to see someone andâÈ'âÈë Mary frowned. âÈêIâÈçve already told you all of this in my letters. DidnâÈçt you read them?âÈë

âÈêOf course I did.âÈë

âÈêThen what did I say about Triona and HughâÈçs efforts to have a child?âÈë

He swirled the whiskey in his cup.

âÈêYou didnâÈçt read a single one of my letters, did you?âÈë

âÈêI read them all; I just didnâÈçt read them closely.âÈë

âÈêMichael!âÈë From where she sat on the low settee, Mary stomped her foot, her skirts fluttering. âÈêYouâÈçre aâÈ' I canâÈçt believe youâÈ' Oh!âÈë

âÈêI canâÈçt read every damn word of every letter I get! I have five brothers and sisters, and then thereâÈçs Father, who cannot let a day go by without sending me some preachy epistle, and Mother, who is determined to discover who IâÈçm to wed before I even know it myself. I didnâÈçt yet mention Mam, who writes such damned cryptic stuff that itâÈçs harder to slog through than a stone scratched over with hieroglyphs, andâÈ'âÈë

âÈêStop complaining. You enjoy our letters and we know it.âÈë

She was right. Though he may not have read the letters from his family closely each and every time he received one, he loved getting the missives. He traveled so much that they connected him to his home and kept him grounded.

Truth be told, he owed his siblings a lot. If not for their efforts, he would still be trapped in a sulfiâÈçs prison. He shrugged and then smiled at Mary. âÈêYouâÈçre right; there were days your letters were my only light.âÈë More than youâÈçll ever know.

Mary eyed his flask. âÈêI donâÈçt suppose youâÈçre thankful enough to share a sip, are you?âÈë

He handed her the flask, noting how she eagerly poured a liberal splash into her own cup. âÈêNow, thatâÈçs the sister I know and love,âÈë he said with fondness as he replaced the flask in his pocket.

She took a sip and then sighed blissfully. âÈêItâÈçs wonderful. But you, Michael, are not. If youâÈçd read my letters youâÈçd know that Triona agreed to drink MamâÈçs potions for one year, and if there is no child by that time, then TrionaâÈçll give up.âÈë

Michael curled his lip. âÈêPotions. There is no such thing as magic.âÈë

âÈêThen why are you so determined to get your hands on the Hurst Amulet? YouâÈçve seen written accounts that say itâÈçs magical.âÈë

âÈêIâÈçve also seen written accounts vowing that the earth is flat.âÈë

Mary held out her empty cup and gestured for Michael to refill it. âÈêThereâÈçs no harm in our sister drinking MamâÈçs potions. They give Triona hope.âÈë

âÈêFalse hope.âÈë

âÈêWhich is better than none,âÈë Mary replied in a spritely tone, pointing at her waiting cup.

Michael removed the flask from his pocket, unscrewed the top, and tipped it over her cup, before saying in a resigned tone, âÈêBut I suppose Triona wouldnâÈçt listen to anyone else. Plus, there are benefits to keeping Mam preoccupied, for sheâÈçll be far too busy with our sisterâÈçs business to interfere in our lives.âÈë

Mary frowned. âÈêYouâÈçve become very self-absorbed. Robert says it comes from being in charge of so many people for so long, and having your every wish seen to.âÈë

âÈêOur brother is a fool. He makes it sound as if I had servant girls following me around, waving palm fronds and feeding me grapes.âÈë

MaryâÈçs eyes widened. âÈêMichael, you didnâÈçtâÈ'âÈë

âÈêNo, I didnâÈçt. Bloody hell, IâÈçve been on an expedition, not a holiday. Instead of nattering on about something he knows nothing about, Robert should accompany me on my next expedition to Egypt. IâÈçd like to see his soft, lace-bedecked self sleeping upon a pallet under a mosquito net, working from dawn to sundown in stifling heat, and digging in the dirt for hours upon end.âÈë

âÈêI thought you hired men to dig for you.âÈë

âÈêI canâÈçt let them dig without supervision. Besides, if itâÈçs a rich find, itâÈçs better to dig myself so that fewer artifacts are broken by careless shovels and picks.âÈë He cocked a brow at her. âÈêSpeaking of carelessness . . .âÈë Michael tossed back the rest of his whiskey and refilled his cup. âÈêWe really should discuss this crocodile I supposedly wrestled. YouâÈçve been wielding your pen far too artfully in âÈæmyâÈç serial for The Morning Post.âÈë

âÈêYou asked me to write the serial for you,âÈë she protested halfheartedly.

âÈêOnly because I didnâÈçt have the time to do it myself, not because I wished someone to fabricate stories that make me appear ridiculous.âÈë

She bit her lip, though she peeped at him through her lashes. âÈêI let you win.âÈë

âÈêThank you,âÈë he returned sarcastically. âÈêWhen I first arrived in town, people spoke enthusiastically about my expeditions and I mistakenly thought they were beginning to warm to true scientific discovery. Now I see that they were merely amazed at your preposterous tales.âÈë

âÈêPeople are interested in your research. Just last week Lord Harken-Styles said he wishes to invest even more in your adventures.âÈë

âÈêLord Harken-Styles waylaid me in WhiteâÈçs last night and asked if he could see the arrowhead from the savage who shot me through the neck.âÈë

Mary bit her lip again. âÈêOh. That.âÈë

âÈêYes, that. The real indignity was that he believed me to be such a sapskull as to keep the arrowhead tied about my neck as a good luck talisman.âÈë

Her lips twitched. âÈêI thought that was a very romantic touch.âÈë

âÈêAnd thoroughly untruthful,âÈë he replied sternly, wondering at the depth of his sisterâÈçs imagination. He shuddered to think of what other stories sheâÈçd concocted.

âÈêIâÈçm surprised Lord Harken-Styles didnâÈçt offer to purchase it; heâÈçs a notorious gambler and could use a lucky talisman.âÈë

âÈêI would have sold him an arrowhead had I one on my person, whichâÈ'not being forewarnedâÈ'I did not. I meant to ask about that tale in the coach on the way here, but I was distracted by this damned cravat, which is about to throttle me even now.âÈë He tugged at the cravat again. âÈêI shall burn this damned thing the second IâÈçm able.âÈë

âÈêYouâÈçre just not used to it. Once youâÈçve been home for a few more weeks, youâÈçll hardly notice it.âÈë

âÈêI wonâÈçt be here that long.âÈë

MaryâÈçs mouth dropped open. âÈêBut . . . we only just rescued you!âÈë

âÈêFor which IâÈçm eternally grateful. But that does not turn me from my original intent of finding the Hurst Amulet, a feat that cannot be accomplished in London.âÈë Excitement warmed him even now at the thought of his next adventure. For years heâÈçd pursued a number of ancient artifacts, but only one object had kept his interestâÈ'their lost family heirloom, the elusive Hurst Amulet.

It was supposedly quite a beautiful piece, made of amber and precious metals. But, of more interest, the amulet held a mystery. It had been lost from their family hundreds of years before, given to Queen Elizabeth, whoâÈ'from the references heâÈçd foundâÈ'had grown to fear it for some reason, and so had gifted it to a foreign emissary. The trouble was, they didnâÈçt know which emissary or which foreign land.

Finally, after years of following every lead he could find, the amulet was nearly within his grasp. âÈêIf all goes well, IâÈçll have that damned amulet before the monthâÈçs out.âÈë

Mary sighed. âÈêRobert said you were about to fly, but youâÈçve only been here a week. Surely you can wait untilâÈ'âÈë

âÈêI canâÈçt wait. I have the map, and now I must finish this quest.âÈë

âÈêBut you need more funds to proceed! You must either court support from the wealthier members of the ton, orâÈëâÈ'her gaze narrowed on himâÈ'âÈêaccept funding from others.âÈë

Michael frowned. âÈêI am not taking ErrollâÈçs money.âÈë

âÈêWhy not? ItâÈçs not as if my husband doesnâÈçt have the money! ItâÈçs rude to admit it, but he is fabulously wealthy.âÈë

âÈêI donâÈçt care. I wonâÈçt have my own brother-in-law interfering with my work.âÈë

âÈêHe wouldnâÈçt interfere.âÈë

âÈêFustian. I knew Erroll for years before you did, sister-mine. He would interfere, and you know it.âÈë

She hesitated, then sighed. âÈêFine. He might interfere a little, but no more than that. HeâÈçs opinionated, as are you.âÈë

âÈêWhich is why I wonâÈçt have him as a partner.âÈë At her stubborn look, Michael added in a milder tone, âÈêErrollâÈçs a good man and IâÈçm very happy for the both of you. But weâÈçre too much the same. Besides, itâÈçs bad to mix family and business.âÈë

âÈêAnd yet you allow me to write your articles, and our brothers to assist you even more. Robert sells your artifacts here in London, while WilliamâÈçs ships ferry you and your expeditions all over the world.âÈë

âÈêHiring your relatives is different from borrowing from them.âÈë

âÈêNo one said anything about a loan. Erroll and I would expect a return, so itâÈçs more of an investment.âÈë

âÈêWhich is even worse. When I hire my relatives, the situation is based on services rendered, which is simple and straightforward. An investment, meanwhile, is based upon the luck of the venture, over which I have no control.âÈë

She sniffed. âÈêFine. Then get used to wearing a cravat and attending every ball and soiree in London as you groom your next investor.âÈë

âÈêMary, donâÈçt get in a miff. Erroll didnâÈçt seem upset when I turned him down, so why should you?âÈë

âÈêI thought it would be a way to help.âÈë

âÈêYouâÈçve helped enough as it is, perhaps too much. Are there any other surprise adventures that I supposedly participated in other than wrestling a crocodile? A long-lost civilization found at the bottom of a dry lake? A duel over an Arabian princess in the desert? A fall from a cliff into an icy sea? Any missing limbs I should know about?âÈë

She ruined any appearance of contrition by giggling. âÈêIt is all your fault, you know. You are such a horrid correspondent that I was forced to make up things. If you would write more often, I wouldnâÈçt need to resort to such stratagems.âÈë

âÈêNonsense. IâÈçve written home plenty of times.âÈë

âÈêTo issue orders like a general, but you never tell us anything. One letter from you was only two sentences long and was merely a request to find a book youâÈçd left at MotherâÈçs and send it to you as soon as possible.âÈë

âÈêUnlike others in my family, I only write when I have something to say.âÈë

âÈêYou only write when you need something. Worse, when you do drop hints about your adventures, you scatter them here and there like a bread crumb trail. YouâÈçll send a brief letter to Robert one month, a short note to Caitlyn the next month, and on it goes. None of us would know anything about you at all if we didnâÈçt share what few crumbs of information you toss us.âÈë

âÈêIf I didnâÈçt have so damn many siblings, youâÈçd get more letters from me. But my lack of correspondence doesnâÈçt give you permission to fictionalize my expeditions. Really, MaryâÈ'an arrow through the neck?âÈë

She bit her lip, though her eyes danced merrily. âÈêThat was a bit dramatic, wasnâÈçt it?âÈë

âÈêVery. Had I known Jane back then, I would have had her write those damn articles instead of you. She wouldnâÈçt have made such a romanticized botch of it.âÈë

âÈêJane? Do you mean Miss Smythe-Haughton, your assistant?âÈë

âÈêWho the hell else would I mean?âÈë He disliked the interested note in his sisterâÈçs voice. âÈêJane is her name; what else should I call her?âÈë

âÈêI would think youâÈçd call her Miss Smythe-Haughton.âÈë

âÈêMy tongue would be exhausted if I had to say that every time I needed a fresh pair of socks or couldnâÈçt find one of my notebooks. Speaking of whichâÈëâÈ'he frowned and pulled out his pocket watch, flicking it open with his thumbâÈ'âÈêshe should be here by now.âÈë

âÈêMiss Smythe-Haughton is coming here? ButâÈ'âÈë Mary blinked. âÈêMichael, she wasnâÈçt included on our invitation.âÈë

âÈêWhich is why I wrote our hostess a letter this afternoon and asked her to send another invitation for Jane.âÈë

âÈêYou didnâÈçt! Michael, youâÈçre hopeless! You canâÈçt ask a hostess to include another guestâÈ'someone she doesnâÈçt even knowâÈ'at the last minute like that. ItâÈçs unheard-of.âÈë

âÈêWhy not? It worked. Our hostess sent the invitation, and I passed it on to Jane, who sent word that sheâÈçd be here. Though she said it would be before ten and here it is, fifteen after, andâÈ'âÈë

A commotion roiled across the ballroom like a hot wind blowing through a field of wheat.

Mary hopped to her feet, lifted on her tiptoes, and craned her neck. âÈêHas the king arrived? Blast it, I cannot see a thing. Michael, youâÈçre taller. Look for me, please. Is it the king? They said he might come.âÈë

Michael shrugged, uninterested. âÈêI donâÈçt know. Everyone has turned toward the door andâÈ' Ah! ItâÈçs not the king at all, but Jane.âÈë

Mary dropped back on her heels and frowned at her brother. âÈêWhy would Miss Smythe-HaughtonâÈçs arrival cause such a stir? No one knows her, do they?âÈë

Michael had already turned his attention back to his cup of Scotch. âÈêI canâÈçt imagine they would.âÈë

Mary waited, but her brother offered no more. Impatient, she snapped, âÈêWell? Is Miss Smythe-Haughton from London?âÈë

âÈêNo.âÈë He took a drink. âÈêAt least, I donâÈçt think so. IâÈçve never asked her.âÈë

Mary closed her eyes and counted to ten. When Michael had first returned from his imprisonment, sheâÈçd been so happy to see him that sheâÈçd thought sheâÈçd never feel angry or upset with him again. That had lasted less than a week. Her brother was a brilliant explorer and historian. His essays and treatises were prized the world over, and he was beyond intelligent in a number of areas.

But his skills in dealing with society had greatly deteriorated from years of living abroad in the wildest and most untamed circumstances. âÈêMichael, who is Miss Smythe-Haughton? She must be someone to cause such interest.âÈë

The wave of excited murmurs wafted closer.

Mary leaned this way and that, trying to peer through the crowd. âÈêI canâÈçt imagine people are so excited over Miss Smythe-HaughtonâÈçs arrival thatâÈ'âÈë The crowd parted and Mary was afforded a direct view of her brotherâÈçs assistant.

MaryâÈçs eyes widened.

She looked once.

Then twice.

Then she clapped a hand over her eyes and fell back upon the settee with a groan. âÈêOh, Michael, what have you done?âÈë