Even though a part of Lucetta knew she really shouldn’t be kissing Bram Haverstein in the middle of an isolated storage room, another part of her, the part that seemed to be melting against him, wasn’t allowing her an opportunity to put up much of a fight.
To complicate the whole melting into him dilemma was the pesky fact that her mind, a part of her that was usually in fine working order, had apparently taken this particular moment to turn rather . . . fuzzy.
She’d never had a fuzzy mind before, had never known such a thing was even possible, and . . . given that all sense of logic seemed to have absorbed straight into the fuzziness, well, it was . . .
The distant sound of what she thought might be a door creaking tickled at what little rational thought she had left, but the tickling vanished almost as soon as it had begun, because, well, Bram was kissing her in a rather delicious fashion. And since she’d never been kissed before, even though she was twenty-six years old, and even though everyone assumed her to be a bit of a flirt, an assumption that was completely wrong, well . . .
“Miss Fremont! What in the world are you doing to poor Mr. Haverstein?”
For a second, Lucetta found herself wondering who this Miss Fremont was. But then a clear sense of panic struck straight through the fuzziness as Lucetta’s mind snapped back into fine working order and she realized that she was supposed to be Miss Fremont and . . . she and Bram had apparently been found out. Untwining her hands from around Bram’s neck, Lucetta stepped away from him and turned, finding Miss Dunlap, in the company of Miss Cooper, glaring back at her.
“Ladies, this is an unexpected surprise,” Bram said in a remarkably casual tone of voice, as if he’d not just been discovered in a completely inappropriate situation. Stepping forward, he pulled Lucetta ever so discreetly behind him. “May I assume there’s a perfectly good reason as to why you’ve abandoned the rehearsal?”
“Miss Cooper and I saw you leaving with Miss Fremont,” Miss Dunlap began. “And quite frankly, we found that to be most suspicious.” She leaned to the right and nodded to Lucetta, who’d taken to watching the conversation unfold from the safety of Bram’s shadow. “Clearly you used some unusual excuse to lure poor Mr. Haverstein away from the ballroom, which you should feel very ashamed about now.” Miss Dunlap switched her attention back to Bram even as she, curiously enough, sent him a beaming smile. “Do know, though, Mr. Haverstein, that we won’t speak a word of this to anyone.”
“There’s absolutely no reason to keep the matter hush-hush now, Miss Dunlap,” a voice said from the doorway. “Especially since you and Miss Cooper neglected to shut the storage room door behind you.”
Swinging her attention to the doorway, Lucetta discovered Ruby marching into the room, followed by Mr. Skukman, who at least had the presence of mind to close the door after him, which drew mutters from all the people who’d gathered outside that very door.
“Oh . . . dear” was all Lucetta was able to utter as Mr. Skukman sent her a quirk of a brow before he took up a position in front of the door in an obvious attempt to keep anyone else from entering the room. Curiously enough, he was looking even more intimidating than usual, what with his hair having lost most of its curl, which gave him a somewhat menacing appearance, and the spectacles he was wearing pushed down past the bridge of his nose as he set his attention on, not Miss Cooper or Miss Dunlap, but Bram.
It was not reassuring to Lucetta in the least when Mr. Skukman took to cracking his knuckles . . . twice.
Ruby stepped forward with fists on her hips. “What I find myself compelled to ask, even though I’m sure I’m going to regret the question, is this. . . . What possessed you, Miss Dunlap and Miss Cooper, to sneak off after my brother in the first place?”
Miss Dunlap lifted her chin. “That’s a little harsh, Miss Haverstein, accusing us of sneaking. We were only looking after your brother’s reputation, because we had a feeling Miss Fremont, being the confirmed spinster type, might very well take it upon herself to get caught with Mr. Haverstein in a compromising situation.”
Her chin lifted another notch. “Clearly, she’s done just that, but . . .” She suddenly beamed another smile Bram’s way. “The details of what has transpired in this very room are sketchy at best, which means if there are rumors already swirling around about someone being compromised, I would be more than happy to step forward and claim to be that compromised person even though my reputation will surely suffer for it.”
Silence settled over the room until Miss Cooper started tapping her toe against the stone floor even as her face began to mottle. “Why do you get to step forward and claim to be compromised?” she demanded of Miss Dunlap. “I would be just as willing to step forward as well, and . . .” She looked to Bram and fluttered her lashes. “I believe I would add a welcomed bit of charm to the fairly dark and gloomy nature of Ravenwood.”
“I’ve always been considered far more charming than you,” Miss Dunlap bit out.
Deciding that the situation was only going to deteriorate the longer the two ladies were allowed to quibble over who was the most charming, Lucetta stepped forward, intent on intervening.
“Ladies,” she began with a smile, catching Miss Dunlap’s eye, “while I’m sure everyone is grateful for your more than generous—”
“What happened to your teeth?” Miss Dunlap interrupted.
“My . . . teeth?”
“You seem to have acquired more of them.”
Lucetta immediately pressed her lips together. “How very unusual,” she managed to get out through the side of her mouth.
“Where’s your wart?” Miss Cooper demanded as she, along with Miss Dunlap, inched Lucetta’s way, the ladies’ animosity toward each other apparently forgotten.
“Uh . . .” Lucetta could think of nothing else to say, but she was spared further response when Bram stepped in front of her again.
While a part of Lucetta found his actions to be high-handed—especially since she firmly believed she could take care of herself—the other part of her, the part that had recently had her lips firmly attached to Bram’s, well . . . that part of her found his protectiveness rather sweet, even nice, which was quite concerning when she considered the—
“While I’m very, er, touched,” Bram began, “that the two of you are evidently very worried about my welfare, and my future, from the sound of it, I believe at this point it truly would be for the best for all of us to return to the ballroom and continue on with rehearsal.”
“But what about . . . her?” Miss Dunlap asked as she craned her neck and set her sights on Lucetta again.
Lucetta craned her neck right back since Bram refused to budge even when she’d tried to nudge him out of the way. “Since only the two of you saw anything, and you’ve both promised Bram you’re not going to say a word, I say we simply allow everyone their speculations as we go on our merry way and really dig in to the meat of that play.”
Miss Dunlap took a single step Lucetta’s way, completely ignoring everything that had just been said. “Who are you?”
“Mr. Haverstein’s distant cousin, Fauna Fremont,” Lucetta said promptly.
Miss Dunlap tilted her head. “I think not, especially since you’ve suddenly been able to regrow teeth and lose a wart.”
“I don’t believe a person can actually regrow teeth” was the only response that came to Lucetta.
“Which means you’re in disguise, and . . .” Miss Dunlap’s gaze shot from Lucetta to settle on none other than Mr. Skukman, who’d assumed his usual stance—arms folded across his chest, shoulders thrown back, and a scowl on his face. She inched his way. “I’ve seen you before. At the New York Theater a few weeks ago. You were guarding that actress, that . . .” Her eyes widened as she looked back at Lucetta again. “On my word, you’re Lucetta Plum.”
Miss Cooper’s mouth dropped open. “Why, you’re right. She is Lucetta Plum. I can see it now, but . . .” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you try out for our meager little play when you perform in the city on a renowned stage?”
“That, my dear, as I’m sure you’re quite aware, is none of your business.”
Looking up, Lucetta found Abigail edging into the room, followed by Iris and Archibald, who immediately put his recent instruction regarding opening and closing doors to good use by shutting the door behind him.
“We’ve been hearing outlandish tales,” Iris began as she looked around before settling her sights on Miss Dunlap and Miss Cooper. “You two . . . out.”
Miss Dunlap’s mouth went slack. “Why . . . I never . . .” She squared her shoulders. “Miss Cooper and I walked in on your son kissing none other than”—she pointed a bony finger Lucetta’s way—“Miss Lucetta Plum, the . . . actress.”
Iris blinked, just once, right before she raised a finger of her own, pointed to the door, and said in the iciest voice Lucetta had ever heard, “Now.”
In a flurry of skirts, Miss Dunlap and Miss Cooper quit the room, their mutters ending abruptly when Archibald, who’d returned to his door duties and had opened the door for their exit, closed it as soon as the last flurry of skirt disappeared over the threshold.
“What could you have been thinking?” Iris demanded a mere moment later, advancing on Bram with her hands on her hips. “You have, in case you’ve forgotten, a castle filled with local Tarrytown folk, your grandmother in residence, no less, as is a young lady whose identity we were supposed to be protecting.” She stopped right in front of him and actually poked him with her finger. “Why would you have chosen this particular time, and this”—she gestured to the storage room at large—“particular place to try to woo Miss Plum? A lady, if you’ll recall, who we’ve told all those gathered is your cousin, which makes all this”—she gestured around the room again—“seem rather tawdry.”
“She’s supposed to be a distant cousin,” Bram reminded her.
“And one with a wart and no teeth,” Ruby added, her lips curving ever so slightly.
“I don’t believe you’re helping my situation,” Bram muttered.
“Goodness, you’re right.” Ruby smiled before she moved to Mr. Skukman, took his arm, and attempted to prod him toward the door. “Since the storage room is quite crowded at the moment, and since outlandish rumors are probably even now spreading like wildfire out there, Mr. Skukman and I will go assess the situation and see if there’s anything that can be done to stem the amount of damage done to both of your reputations.”
Mr. Skukman hadn’t moved a single inch even with Ruby trying so determinedly to get him to the door. He sent a single nod Lucetta’s way. “Would you like me to stay with you?”
“I think assessing the situation might be a better use of your time,” Lucetta said. “Especially since I’m fairly sure Miss Dunlap and Miss Cooper are even now spreading the word regarding my true identity.”
Cracking his knuckles again, Mr. Skukman released a grunt. “Would you like me to dissuade them from spreading the word?”
“Goodness, Mr. Skukman, get ahold of yourself,” Ruby said before Lucetta could respond. Grabbing him with both hands, she tried yet again to get him to move, releasing a pent-up breath of air a moment later when he refused to budge.
Sending Ruby a look that seemed to have a touch of amusement mixed in with clear exasperation, Mr. Skukman turned and caught Lucetta’s eye. “Just call if you decide you have need of me.” With that, he headed for the door with Ruby still firmly attached to his arm.
“I believe, since this is a family matter and I’m not a family member—at least not yet—I’ll go help Mr. Skukman and Ruby assess the situation.” With those cryptic words—words that left Abigail standing with her mouth slightly open—Archibald opened the door with a flourish, strode over the threshold, and pulled it closed behind him.
“What do you think Archibald meant by . . . yet?” Bram asked slowly.
“This is not the time to be pondering anything other than what you’re going to do now,” Iris said with a distinct edge to her tone as she shook her head at her son. “You’ve been caught in a compromising situation with Miss Plum, and . . . there’s no getting around what has to be done now—you’ll have to get married.”
Lucetta’s eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t think there’s any need for us to be hasty about anything, Mrs. Haverstein. Bram and I barely know each other. Add in the fact that I’m an actress, for heaven’s sake, and . . . well, it’s not as if I enjoy a pristine reputation, so no harm done, and that’s that.”
Iris plopped her hands on her hips. “What about Silas Ruff?”
“I don’t want to marry him either.”
She wasn’t certain but she thought Bram’s lips twitched just a touch. But, seeing those lips suddenly reminded Lucetta that she’d recently been very close to those lips, and . . .
“Your identity has now become public knowledge, Miss Plum,” Iris continued, pulling Lucetta abruptly away from thoughts of lips, heat, and . . . closeness. “It will not be long until Silas learns your direction, and from what I’ve been told, he’s determined to acquire you.”
Lucetta shot a look to Bram, hoping for some assistance, but she found that Bram, curiously enough, was looking vacantly about the room, his thoughts clearly not on the present and oh-so-concerning situation. Resisting the urge to smack him back to the conversation at hand, she drew in a breath and returned her attention to Iris.
“I’m not certain why you’re pursuing this idea of marriage between me and your son so adamantly, Mrs. Haverstein. Clearly, I’m not the type of lady a mother would actively seek out to become her daughter-in-law, and again, Bram and I barely know each other.”
Iris lifted her chin. “My mother heartily approves of you.”
Abigail drew in a sharp breath and raised a hand to her chest as her eyes turned suspiciously bright. “What a lovely thing to say.”
Iris smiled. “I’ve seen that you truly do have only the best interest for your grandchildren at heart, Mother. And since you care so deeply about Miss Plum, and my son apparently cares about her—because he’s never been caught kissing a lady in a storage room before—who am I to stand in their way?”
Alarm traveled through Lucetta’s veins, increasing by the second as Iris and Abigail turned her way and began beaming bright smiles in her direction. Realizing that she was not getting through to them, she turned to demand assistance from Bram, discovering that he’d moved stealthily away from everyone and was now . . . furiously scribbling something down on a crumpled piece of paper that seemed to be covered in silver polish.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
Bram stopped scribbling, lifted his head, blinked a few times, then straightened as he stuffed the piece of paper into a pocket and smiled at her. “Just had a thought” was his only reply.
“And you didn’t want to lose it,” Abigail said with a fond smile sent Bram’s way. “I do the same exact thing when something important strikes me.”
“Which is lovely to be sure,” Lucetta said slowly. “But this is hardly the time for random thoughts, Bram, unless they pertain to the abominable situation at hand. That situation, if you’ve neglected to realize, is that the general consensus seems to be that we, as in you and I”—she gestured between herself and Bram—“have no choice but to get married.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Iris said before Bram could respond. “You were discovered kissing.”
“Well, yes, I suppose we were, but . . .”
“There’s no suppose about it, Lucetta,” Bram said with the faintest hint of a smile. “You and I were caught in the act so to speak, which is exactly why we’ll be getting married.”
“I don’t particularly care to be told I’m going to marry you.”
Bram’s brows drew together even as his eyes turned distant again. “Right. Because independent ladies don’t like to be told things, they prefer to be asked, and . . .”
To Lucetta’s absolute confusion, and a good bit of annoyance, Bram suddenly pulled out the crumpled piece of paper he’d stuffed into his pocket, set it on a table that held a variety of silver-polish bottles on it, scribbled something else on the page, then straightened.
“Right,” he said again. “Well, I need to go attend to something, so I’ll leave you ladies to finish up with all the details of planning a wedding.”
Unable to summon up a single question regarding what was obviously complete and utter lunacy, Lucetta watched in speechless disbelief as Bram headed her way. He stopped directly in front of her, kissed her on the cheek, leaned back, considered her face for a second, then leaned toward her again, and pressed a kiss right on her mouth. He seemed completely oblivious that Lucetta had taken to sputtering, while Abigail and Iris had taken to tsking, although Abigail’s tsking seemed to have a rather pleased tone about it. Stepping away from her, he nodded, just once.
“That would work better—definitely on the lips,” he said to no one in particular before he seemed to shake himself. “Now then, if everyone will excuse me . . .”
With that, Bram strode from the room, vanishing from sight before she had the presence of mind to call him back.
“This is turning out to be a very peculiar evening indeed,” Abigail finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room.
“It’s not peculiar, Abigail—it’s downright insane,” Lucetta argued. “And . . .” She turned her head and caught Iris’s eye. “What in the world was that all about? Who just walks off in the middle of a life-altering conversation?”
Iris sent her a faint smile. “Perhaps Bram has gone off to compose a more suitable marriage proposal.”
Abigail immediately nodded in clear agreement with that. “I bet that’s exactly what he’s done.”
“I got the impression he thinks matters are settled between us,” Lucetta said slowly.
“And they will be,” Abigail returned. “Just as soon as we get all the wedding details in place.”
As Lucetta stood there with her mouth hanging open, Abigail and Iris linked arms, and then, chatting furiously in whispered tones, they hurried out of the room with phrases like “She’ll make such a lovely bride” and “We should hire Monsieur Lamont for the cake” trailing after them.