Free Mastering the Marquess by Vanessa Kelly

death, she had completed a large canvas that depicted the birth of Athena, springing full-blown from the head of Zeus. Miss Noyes had screamed when she saw it, and her father had claimed it gave him the headache. It had been banished to the attic, along with a number of other works that had suffered a similar fate.
    Since they had come to London, Miss Noyes had gently suggested she turn her mind to more cheerful subjects, encouraging her to paint a portrait of Annabel. Perhaps she would. It would be lovely, she mused, to capture her sister in such happy spirits.
    Meredith closed the chest of art supplies and shoved it back under the window. She picked up the overstuffed linen basket and lugged it down the cellar steps to the kitchen as she mulled over her instructions for the new cook. It was remarkable how quickly they had acquired their kitchen staff. Another testament, she supposed, to the efficiency of Lord Silverton’s secretary.
    As she thought of the marquess, a faint but disconcerting heat flushed her limbs. Lord Silverton had intruded much too frequently in her thoughts these last few days. Meredith had vowed repeatedly to squash what was rapidly becoming a ridiculous schoolgirl crush.
    Her uncomfortably warm feelings for him had surprised her, since more often than not she had found him to be arrogant and condescending. Besides, she reminded herself, it was most unlikely that a man like him would feel any kind of attraction to an aging spinster like her. Meredith simply refused to be any more foolish about him than she already was.
    A distant knock echoed down the hallway just as she pushed through the door into the kitchen. Puzzled, she set the basket down on a stool by the door and automatically smoothed her hair back from her face. Who would be calling so early in the day?
    The new cook, Mrs. Biggs, up to her elbows in flour, kneaded pastry for the apple tart she was preparing.
    â€œWell, it seems as if you’ve got your first visitors already,” she exclaimed as she wiped pastry crumbs from her beefy hands onto a towel. “Now, Miss Meredith, you just give that list to me and I’ll take care of the shopping as soon as I finish my pies. You best get that apron off and give your hair a brush before you go see who’s calling so early in the day.”
    Meredith smiled at the woman’s warm, homespun manner. Mrs. Biggs had come highly recommended, and, more importantly, Meredith had liked her immediately. She removed the list from the pocket in her gown and handed it to the cook.
    â€œVery well, Mrs. Biggs. I will speak to you later this afternoon.”
    She shook out her skirts before hurrying to the stairs, determined at least to brush her hair before joining her sister and Miss Noyes in the drawing room. Their former governess should be able to maintain a polite conversation for a few minutes, and it would do Annabel good to be forced to play hostess without Meredith constantly hovering in the background.
    As she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she heard an angry masculine voice coming from the drawing room. Meredith froze, then turned around and rushed down the stairs. Agatha came running down the hallway, casting a frightened glance at Meredith before stumbling to a halt in front of her.
    â€œOh, miss!” she cried. “You must come right away. Some bad men forced their way into the house. One of them is yelling at Miss Annabel!”
    Meredith’s heart kicked into a gallop as she realized her uncle had found them. She grabbed the maid by the shoulders and shook her slightly to get her full attention.
    â€œAgatha,” she rasped, hardly able to overcome the dryness in her mouth, “you must run immediately to Lady Stanton’s house and tell her my uncle has come to take Annabel away. You must make sure she gets the message. Don’t leave until you know someone will come to help us, understand?”
    The girl nodded her head. Miss Noyes had obviously told