Mason understood the aim of their concern. "This was your idea, Cousin. What do you have to say? Can you refrain from sharing any mention of Madame Fontaine's presence in our home with your acquaintances?"
Cousin Felicity pursed her lips. Her worried brow told everyone in the room they were asking a highprice of her."Not even your dressmaker," Mason added."But Mason, not even Lady-" she started, the lace on her cap all aflutter."-No, Cousin. No one. This must be a secret."
The poor woman looked as if they had asked her to attend a court levee in last year's gown.Madame Fontaine stepped forward, laying a gentle hand on his cousin's arm. "Consider my poor servant's fate. While I don't know for certain, there were rumors in Paris that his tongue was torn from hismouth after he let some rather confidential information slip." Madame Fontaine sighed. "It is neverprudent to be indiscriminate."
Mason nearly laughed as Cousin Felicity gulped and turned slightly to glance at Hashim, who stood in the corner glowering at his mistress.
She shrugged ever so slightly at her servant, as if to say, Sorry, my friend.
Hashim's glower did not soften, but his stance eased just a bit, giving one the distinct impression his reply was, We will discuss it later.
"Well, what say you, Cousin Felicity? It seems you hold the girls' future in your hands," he said.
At this she let out a little sigh of defeat. "If you insist, Mason. While you might not believe it, many of my friends consider me to be the cornerstone of discretion."
At this, Bea let out the most unladylike snort.
All gazes swung over at her.
"What?" she asked.
Mason shook his head. Madame Fontaine surely had her work cut out for her.
Folding his hands behind his back, he wondered at their apparent acceptance. He should have known
better than to think his nieces would give up so easily.Louisa spoke again. "All this is well and good, if we keep quiet, but what about her?" She pointed atMadame Fontaine as one might an unknown carcass at the side of the road. "And him," she continued,tipping her nose over her shoulder in Hashim's direction. "They don't exactly fit into the usual crowdparading about Ashlin Square. Someone is bound to notice them coming and going, especially done uplike that." She paused. "In case you haven't met all our neighbors, Uncle, believe me when I tell you there isn't a one who possesses Cousin Felicity's 'cornerstone on discretion.'" She smiled at the elderlylady as if she meant her comment as a compliment.While he didn't like Louisa's tone, he had to agree with her assessment.Madame Fontaine stood out, but perhaps with a change of gown and a subtler hairstyle, she might blend into the comings and goings of the Square.
But Hashim? Mason doubted there was any way to disguise the giant Saracen.
He decided to address one problem at a time. "My niece has a point, Madame. Tomorrow, I would ask that you arrive promptly at seven-"
"Seven!" came the shocked chorus.
He noted wryly that even Madame Fontaine had added her voice to this objection.
"Yes, seven. A very wise Colonial once said something about how the early bird gets the worm. We have no time to lose, since the Season starts in less than a month." He stood firm and when he heard no more complaints beyond a muttered curse coming from Bea's corner, he took a deep breath. "So I would ask, Madame, that when you arrive tomorrow morning, you come dressed more appropriately for your station as a tutor to gently bred young ladies."
The arch of her neatly shaped brow was her only contradiction to his order. And he knew it wasn't about the time of day or her manner of dress.
She probably was wondering where he was going to find the gently bred young ladies.
"As you wish, my lord," she said.
There, that settled everything, he thought. He'd set order to his house, once and for all. In a few weeks the girls would go out into good society, find well-mannered husbands, and move on with their lives so he could continue with hers.
Mason shook his head.
No, he meant, continue with his life. Not hers.
For a moment, Mason closed his eyes to the swell of her breasts threatening to spill out from the low
decolletage of her gown, to the rounded curves of her hips, and the teasing, billowing sway of thefeathers in her hat which seemed to beckon a man to come closer.Merciful heavens, what had he wrought on himself, inviting her into his house for a month?Hopefully, stripped of her finery, she wouldn't be such a temptation to his Ashlin heart.Yes, he told himself. She is probably quite plain beneath all that artifice.Or so he prayed."Uncle, are you listening?" Bea's insistent question pierced his wayward thoughts.
"Yes? What is it?" He straightened and tried to appear attentive.
"I was saying, you can dress this fancy piece of yours in sackcloth, but what about him? Infidels are about as common on Ashlin Square as a snowfall in hel-"
"Yes, Beatrice. I think we all get your point." Mason turned toward Madame Fontaine. "My niece is
quite right. Your servant must remain behind."
Hashim growled at this change of events, the guttural sound bringing a frightened squeak from Cousin Felicity.
Madame Fontaine placed a placating hand on her servant's forearm. "I'm afraid the decision is not mine to make, my lord," she said politely. "Hashim comes and goes as he pleases. And it pleases him to escort
me when I venture out."
He studied her for a moment. He swore he heard a catch in her voice-that she wasn't quite telling the truth. Then again, perhaps like the rest of the pampered London felines, Madame Fontaine was used to getting her way. Well, this time she would have to make an exception to that tradition.
Straightening his shoulders, Mason said, "Your servant will just have to change his mind. If he arrives with you, it will only invite untoward speculation. Either he stays behind, or you had best bring the balance of your debt with you tomorrow."
The lady shot a glance over her shoulder at Hashim, a look that seemed to say, Leave off. I'll fix this later.
While he might not like her smug assurance that she could reprimand his order so easily, he had to admire her skill at handling her intimidating escort.
She turned back and tipped her head in acquiescence.
Mason acknowledged her gesture with a nod of his own. "There. Now everything is in order." He turned to his nieces. "Your lessons will commence immediately. Please show Madame to the Green Salon." He waved his dismissal to them, and settled back into his chair, opening the drawer to his right and pulling out his accursed account book.
When he glanced up, he realized they were still all standing there staring at him, each with her own censorious gaze.
"Aren't you going to sit in?" Madame Fontaine asked. "You had mentioned, my lord, that you were considering entering the Marriage Mart yourself, and perhaps a little polish might speed along your endeavors in that field."
"Uncle get married?" Louisa gasped. After a few seconds of stunned silence, she and her sisters burst out laughing.
He shot a disparaging glare at them, but it was of no use. The trio was lost in their mirth.
"What is so funny?" he asked.
"Oh, Uncle," Maggie said between giggles. "You are too old to find a wife."
He frowned. "I hardly think one-and-thirty is considered old."
This brought on another round of hilarity, and much to his annoyance, even Madame Fontaine shared the girls' amusement at this notion, for the woman shook with barely controlled tremors of laughter.
When she caught him staring at her, she brought her hand to her mouth and coughed.
"There now!" she said, her sharp tone bringing a quick end to the girls' giggles. "Your uncle is tolerable enough, and not that old. There is no need to think there isn't some woman in town or even beyond-" she paused as if she were considering if that was enough territory for his search, before she finished by saying, "-who might consider his offer quite an honor."
Her patronizing smile and tone grated at what little vanity he possessed.
Why, the woman made it sound like he were some old, lecherous cad whose only matrimonial hope was a three-eyed spinster whose last Season could be counted in decades, not years!
But in addition to her smile, there was a hint of challenge in her green eyes. A subtle dare for him to stayin her company.That is if he'd hazard to run the risk.Dammit if she hadn't been sent to test his mettle.
All too much.
Reminding himself that Ashlins no longer rose to such bait, he bowed to her and nodded. "Thank you for your kind estimation, Madame. Perhaps I will drop in on your lessons another time. For now, I suggest you take advantage of what little time you do have by retiring to the Green Salon. My mother's pianoforte is in there, and the room is sparsely furnished so it has enough space to move about. Cousin Felicity will assist you if you have any other needs." Bowing politely, he fled his study before there could be any further protests or comments.
Mason knew from his long years studying history that at times honor could be found only in a well-timed retreat from one's folly. And he had certainly found his as he beat a hasty departure. Though his flight came up short when he ran into Belton in the main foyer.
"Sir," Belton said, the single word tolling through the room like a warning bell. "Lady Delander is coming
up the steps. What should I do with your other guests?""Lady Delander?" Mason cringed. An advertisement on the front page of the morning paper wouldn't dothe job of spreading the news of Madame Fontaine's presence in their house that Lady Delander coulddo in a few short hours.
And to add insult to injury, her services were free.
"Oh, dear," Cousin Felicity said, as she fluttered over to Mason's side. "I forgot about her."
"Forgot what?" Mason asked.
"I asked her to call this morning."
"Cousin Felicity!"
"Well, that was before you uttered that dreadful edict, Mason. How was I to know you were going to
snatch away my greatest triumph?" Cousin Felicity started to retrieve her handkerchief.
The bell at the door jangled loudly, rattling all of them to attention.
"Should I deny her entrance, sir?" Belton looked as if sending the gossipy Lady Delander packing would
have been his own personal form of triumph.
"Oh, you can't do that!" Cousin Felicity protested. "Josephine counts half the patronesses as her closestfriends. Snub her and we'll never see a single voucher for Almack's."The bell tolled again, this time with decided impatience."We must let her in," Cousin Felicity whispered, "or she'l -".
His cousin didn't need to finish her statement because the lady in question did it for her.
The door to the Ashlin house started to open, but Belton was quicker and pushed it shut, throwing the
latch to bar her entrance.
"Well, I never!" Lady Delander's protest came through the heavy panel as if she were standing in the foyer. "Felicity? Where is everyone?" she called out, followed by a sharp rapping that could only be from her cane. "This is most impertinent! Where is Belton?" A pause followed, which they soon discovered was only the lady catching her breath, for she quickly recovered and started her verbal assault anew. "It' s that infidel I saw this morning. He must be in there murdering them all! Come out at once, or I will call for the guard and have them break in the door."
Mason looked around and saw his worst nightmare-the most scandalous actress in London and her Saracen bodyguard in his house while the most notorious gossip stood on his front steps trying to scale his home like a reenactment of the Norman conquest.
"Everyone, out of here!" he ordered, as Lady Delander had obviously called her footman to break down the barred door.
Beatrice caught Hashim by the elbow and propelled him into the open servant's doorway, and then fled through the portal, as if the hounds of hell had been let loose in Ashlin Square.
Meanwhile, Louisa caught Maggie by the hand and hauled her ungainly sister up the stairs, the pair fleeing in much the same frantic manner as Bea.
Mason didn't blame them-Lady Delander was probably mentioned somewhere in some obscure ancient text as one of the lost servants of the underworld.
Belton still held the door against the invaders, but he was losing ground fast.