Another laugh bubbled out of her. “What did he say?”
“‘Cheers, sir,’” he said with a brilliant smile that made her entire body tingle. “Now Mr. and Mrs. Tubbs are the first to arrive every Sunday. I only wish that I had thought of it six years sooner.”
“And how is the grog?”
He set back down the wine. “Nothing like this vintage.”
Another giggle escaped her lips and Mary knew that she should not drink any more wine. Nor Trevor, for his color was still high.
The sound of footsteps caused them both to turn and seethe butler holding a pair of antique keys. Mary thought that it was very cowardly of her charges to send Harper to unlock the dungeon door. Despite spending several delightful hours with Trevor, she still wished to give them a piece of her mind.
“Mr. Wallace,” the butler intoned, “your room has been prepared and a servant has taken the liberty to press and set out your evening clothes. The Duke of Hampford is eager to make your acquaintance this evening at dinner.”
Did the duke know that they were locked in the dungeon? Could she really tattle on her charges after all the effort they went through to give her a romantic afternoon with the man she loved?
No.
She would not utter a word on the matter.
“When is dinner, Harper?” Mary asked in a sharper tone than she meant to.
“In a half an hour, Miss Perkins. Lady Frederica also sent you a maid to help you dress.”
Mary usually dressed herself, but she would barely have enough time to freshen up and change. Lord Hampford was the kindest of gentlemen and he liked his dinner on time. She gave Trevor’s hand one last squeeze before leaving him in Harper’s competent care and making a mad dash to her own bedchamber. Opening the door, she saw that an evening gown had already been laid out on the bed. Except it was not hers. The high-waisted red silk dress was trimmed in gold thread. It was the gown for a daughter of a duke, not a governess.
“We do not have much time, Miss Perkins,” Miss Wade said, her lips forming a grim line. She was not a mere maid but was Lady Frederica’s abigail since her coming-out the year before.
Mary brought a finger to her mouth. “Oh, I am sorry if Frederica roped you into this.”
Wade’s lips upturned just a tick. Mary half thought that it was a trick of the light. The abigail was not a smiler. “I volunteered, miss. Their ladyships wished to dress your hair themselves, and I did not think you deserved such a fate.”
Not able to hold in her own smile, Mary chuckled. “You are too kind. But the dress. I could not accept such an expensive garment.”
Raising only one eyebrow, Wade said pragmatically, “Well, it certainly will not fit Lady Frederica or Lady Rebecca. They are quite a bit taller and more buxom than yourself. And it would be too large for Lady Helen. I suppose if it is not fine enough for you, we could donate it to the poor. Although, it would greatly disappoint the young ladies if you did not wear it yourself.”
Unbidden tears formed in her eyes. “What should I do?”
Wade took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her around and began to unbutton her wrinkled day gown. “Allow others to take care of you for once, Miss Perkins.”
Despite her better judgment, and no doubt because of the wine, Mary allowed Wade to robe her in the exquisite gown and dress her hair with a red ribbon in a loose chignon with escaping curls. Glancing in the mirror, Mary did not feel like an old maid but like a princess. The gown was cut fashionably lower than her usual dresses, but it was not revealingly so. Wade helped her put on a pair of long red gloves that had been dyed to match it.
Mary straightened her spectacles before briefly touching the other woman’s shoulder. “I cannot thank you enough.”
Wade brushed off her hand and her compliment. “’Tis nothing.”
Taking a deep breath, Mary left her room and went down the stairs to the breakfast room. The Stringhams ate their meals there when they did not have company. It was closer to the kitchens and not so cold and cavernous as the dining room in the grand hall. Harper stood by the door and opened it for her like she was a real lady. Stepping through the frame, she saw that she was the last person to arrive. Lord Hampford stood near his daughters, with Trevor on the other side. Her heart skipped a beat. Trevor looked achingly handsome in his dark dinner clothes. His wild curls had been tamed into submission and his lips were red like the wine they had drunk together. She wished she would have had the courage to kiss him whilst they’d been alone in the dungeon. She had leaned toward him more than once, but he did not move to touch either her body or her lips.
Alas.
“Miss Perkins, how beautiful you are!” Becca said in a loud voice.
“You’re dressed up finer than a Christmas goose,” Helen declared.
Frederica stomped on her sister’s foot. “What Helen means is that you look like a diamond of the first water.”
Mary’s attention was not on her charges but on her betrothed. Trevor turned to see her and his mouth opened alittle. His eyes widened and he clenched his fists, as if trying to stop himself from touching her. She wished that he did not have so much self-control.
“Everyone take a seat,” Lady Frederica said. “Mama is not here, so we do not have to have good manners.”