"Mistress?" Gregor marveled. "He accused her of being your mistress?"

I reclined in his settee, fingers steepled. "Since she was so upset by the whole fiasco that she vomited, a mistress I had impregnated or tried to hide to be more specific."

Eyes wide, he paused in his pacing and sat down across from me. "That is amazing." He met my gaze finally. "I hadn't thought you had it in you."

"Pardon?" When he didn't elaborate, I sat up, fit to attempt murder twice for one week. "Are you accusing—?"

"Well, aren't you? Isn't she?"

I got to my feet and he stood as well.

"Calm down."

"You are a terrible friend, cousin. The absolute worst." I flopped down yet again. "Unparalleled in your incompetence. I asked you to keep Angelique distracted and you went after the governess. Knowing how I felt!"

"I couldn't help it," that scoundrel admitted. "Angelique is a bore. Especially when compared to this strange situation. I've never seen you so driven for anyone. Even Angelique was more of an...afterthought for you."

I took insult. "That is not true. She'd meant a lot to me."

"Cousin, you are literally trying to find the woman you love a husband. That is not something a normal person does. You're either terribly in love or you're hiding a mistress."

All fight faded from me. He wasn't finished.

"And even if you were in love, why would you let her go? You're the son of a duke! What woman wouldn't covet that?"

The governess hadn't. To be truthful, I'd considered her words empty in that regard. With each passing day, however, I knew them to be sincere. My status, for the first time in my life, repelled a woman.

Gregor, enjoying my circus of a love life, asked, "And what will you do now?"

I stared at the little table between us.

"She hasn't eaten in two days." The very thought had me troubled. "I'd—I'd expected her to cry. Or...or scream, or carry on. Isn't that what most women would have done?"

"Are you certain she isn't merely on her days?" Gregor suggested, as sensitive as ever.

"You are a louse."

He shrugged. "It's an honest thought." Much like a mouse running a maze, his little mind continued to conjure up more nonsense. "Are you certain this isn't a part of her plan?"

I took insult on her behalf. No. I was offended on my own behalf. I was no fool.

And she was no liar. That was what I loved about her. Even when it was an unpopular thing to say, she'd say it. In a world of so much pretense, her straightforwardness was a gulp of air after nearly drowning.

But she was driving me mad. I'd thought and thought for two days now. Once or twice, I'd even considered going back to the frog and telling him a lie that she was not my lover, but rather...an illegitimate half-sister for whom I'd longed to offer a dowry for because that was the gentlemanly thing to do.

All sorts of absurd ideas came to me at an alarmingly fast rate.

The only thing to stop me was knowing how sorely she valued her reputation, and even her family, despite their evil deeds.

"Cousin," Gregor said, "if you do succeed in finding her a husband, you won't do anything...drastic, will you?"

I scoffed. "What? Like end it?"

A normal person could pull off this look of concern, but he appeared more intrigued than worried.

"That ship has sailed. I'd even written my suicide note."

Gregor stroked his chin. "Really?"

"She saw it by mistake."

"And?"

He practically hung from the edge of his seat.

"And? And what? She told me I spelled 'machinations' wrong, then went to her room." When his jaw dropped, I confessed, "By then I was too embarrassed to write another one. And it's the way she said it, as if I didn't even care enough to check the spelling."

Gregor said not a word for a long minute then let out a snort. "And this is the woman you want to die for?"

It was.

But that had been our last interaction before she sequestered herself in her bedroom. At this rate, I felt pressured that not doing away with myself would show an utter lack of commitment.

Something had to be done.

"I've picked your strawberry bushes clean, cousin. I make no apologies. Also, I've secured theater tickets but it's impossible for me to take her directly, what with that business with Angelique at your gathering. So I will require your assistance once more."

Gregor's right eyebrow rose. "Oh?"

"Yes. I've secured a private box. Once we are inside, we'll simply switch halfway through the play and you accompany Angelique and I the governess."

Awed and doubtful, Gregor shook his head. "What power does this woman have over you so?"

"The sort that tells me if I cannot make her happy, all that's left is my untimely end...with an adequately proofread suicide note, of course."

My distant cousin Beatrice was a wretched child. The most utterly, utterly wretched child.

Usually when she spoke, more than once, I had to remind myself that this was a human girl, not a squawking bird, and to put my hand over her face to silence her was really untoward.

Today when she thundered in, she was...quiet. In fact, it was far too quiet. Worst yet, she didn't seek out Gregor, her equally wretched cousin, but me.

Standing before me in her pretty blue dress, the girl said nothing. The look in her eyes was my biggest concern.

Gregor watched her back and asked, "What is the matter? Hasn't Lana arrived?"

She looked back at him and said, "Y—yes. Yes she has."

And then she turned to stare at me once more.

I waited. My hand twitched, I wanted to face-guide her away from me with those miserable eyes.

"May, may I have a word with you, cousin?" she asked and I raised an eyebrow at her.

I was about to say no but my mother's voice came from outside, something that surprised me. She called for Lana but since no one answered, that meant something was afoot.

Rather reluctantly, I set my gaze upon Beatrice yet again. Even her name annoyed me.

"What is it?"

"Would you accompany me?" she asked. The sweet tone was rather unconvincing.

Honestly, why did I hate this child so?

"Go find something else to occupy your time," Gregor commanded, dismissing her. "Come, Mason, I have a wine that may yet help you in your efforts."

I looked past this pest of a child to my pest of a friend, fed up. Often when Gregor spoke, it was with a secondary meaning. Today was the first day I truly worried, and not about him, but myself. Because if I was friends with such a cad, then what did that make me?

Still, I'd thought to follow behind him to avoid Beatrice but something in the way she looked at me concerned me. Why did I despise her? I couldn't say. And that was a problem.

For the first time since I'd known the little welp, I didn't feel right with dismissing her on sight for no reason but my bad mood.

Gregor was at the door by the time I called to him, "If it's all the same, I'll go back to check and be sure there aren't a few strawberries left."

He shook his head and walked out. "Wasted effort. Wine would get you to your goal a lot faster."

Despite his laughter, I found no humor in his distasteful words.

My eyes settled on Beatrice again. "What is it, child?"

She hesitated, wringing her hands like some old woman.

"Well? Speak! You possess such abilities, do you not?"

"Um...I am not certain that I should," she began.

I wanted to scream. And I wanted to take her and shake her until her curls fell out as I screamed.

With a wave of my hand, I got to my feet and marched out. Mother had practically circled the manor, frantic to find Lana.

She met me at the door. "Oh, have you seen her? I tried to explain."

"Not you, too," I grumbled.

Frantic women was where I drew the line. Absolutely where. It was a low bar for my tolerance for nonsensical things but in this aspect, I refused to entertain it more than I had to.

I raised my hands and slipped around her.

"Mason," she called but said nothing when I turned to give her my attention.

For what felt like ages, I waited.

Nothing. Nothing but this strange stare.

I'd had enough. My basket of pilfered strawberries rested on the steps and I picked them up with the intent to put them in our carriage but it was nowhere in sight.

"Where's the buggy?" I asked her.

It was unlike Mother to feign deafness so when I turned to find her nearly in tears, a shot of panic had me in her proximity in minutes.

"Woman, what is happening?"

Mother stared past me. "I don't know that I have a right to answer."

I growled, "Now you're doing it!"

The first day I'd met the governess, I was not at my best. In fact, several so-called priceless vases and artifacts were literally rendered priceless by me as I'd thrown them from wall to wall.

She'd walked in to find one sailing at her head. I hadn't intended to hit anyone and luckily she dodged it. But while my mother stood beside her, humiliated, the governess stepped over each piece of my destruction, asked which room would be hers, and walked past me as if I weren't corporeal.

That woman went on to ignore me for one month straight.

So no, my temper was never, had never been of much use to me. Therefore, I calmed and walked back into the house to poor Beatrice who still stood, wringing her hands, confused.

I set the basket down and held her shoulders. "Do you know where Lana is?"

Tears in her eyes, she gave a slow nod.

Panic took me but I persevered. "Is she in the carriage?"

When she shook her head, I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. Must I really ask this brat all this like some backwards game of charades?

I summoned all my patience and let out a slow breath. "Is she safe?" That nod was enough so I stood and patted her greasy head. "Very well, keep on with your game so long as she's all right."

"But she's not all right," the little vermin attested.

"Yes, but you aren't about to tell me why."

"Well, a lady should keep her word. That's what she's said. Perhaps it isn't right to betray that."

I stood to my full height and rotated my head to train my eyes on her. Those words didn't sound like the words of a child. They sounded like something the governess would say.

My feet took me to the door in seconds and my mother still stood there, refusing to look at me.

"Mother?" I asked.

She muttered, "It was her choice. What are we to do? Keep her captive?"

From Lana's upset to this grown woman's, the thought of the carriage came to me and my stomach dropped.

I shoved the basket into her hands and took off like a madman towards my horse.

"Mason!" Mother cried, "You mustn't lose your temper."

After I mounted, I thought to give her a proper answer but that would waste precious time that she'd already cost me.

I set off, riding so fast one might think I attempted to outrun an invasion.