Free Maggie MacKeever by Strange Bedfellows Page B

Katherine’s prospective remarks. “If you do not think she’ll like it, then don’t tell her!” Mab snapped. “Save for Nell, and now you, no one knows that I ran away. Even Papa does not! And considering the state I found matters in here, it’s a very good thing I did, what with Nell being made to fret even worse by that odious Henrietta, not to mention Marriot!”
    Not tell his mama of Amabel’s misconduct? Here was a novel thought. Though Fergus was not certain of the propriety of withholding information from his parent, he foresaw that revelation could only lead to a further cutting up of his own peace. Fergus’s peace was important to him. In part, his amiability resulted from a keen dislike of raised voices and hurtful accusations, as is sometimes the case.
    Currently, it was Amabel’s raised voice that he disliked. “Tell me, do you really want to join the militia?” he asked, and smiled.
    Lady Amabel, who wished to quarrel no more than did Fergus, seized gratefully upon this distraction. “Of course I do not!” she chided with twinkling eyes. “It was merely a means by which to distract Henrietta from Marriot. She is prone to go on at length in the most bloodcurdling manner. I wished to give her thoughts another direction.” Her smile faded. “As you have sought to do with me, Fergus! Since you no longer wish to marry me, you may go away.”
    Could he have heard correctly? Had Amabel just dismissed him? It was a unprecedented situation for Lord Parrington, who was much more accustomed to being courted than given his congé . Perhaps she had not meant it? A quick glance at her stubborn expression convinced him that she had. “We must not be hasty!” he protested lamely.
    “I am not hasty,” responded Amabel with a sad little catch in her voice and a shocking disregard for the truth. “I am not the one who allows myself to be dictated to, who has not the least capability to manage my own affairs—” Prudently, Mab refrained from direct censure of the baron’s dictatorial parent. “—the one who abandons his dearest friend just when she needs him most! But do not concern yourself, Fergus! We will not much longer be a household of defenseless women. Soon Marriot will come home.”
    “Will he, do you think?” Lord Parrington had not previously considered how difficult life must be for the ladies so mysteriously left behind.
    Amabel lowered her gaze to the mantelpiece. “I’m sure of it! Why, I could tell you—but I must not! You do not like secrets! The thing is, once Marriot does return, he might be persuaded to put in a good word with Papa, who has always doted on him, and adjudged him up to all the rigs.” Through her lashes, she peered at her companion. “I will tell you this much, Fergus. Marriot’s absence has a very good explanation—but you must promise me not to breathe a word!”
    As was not surprising in so cosseted a young gentleman, Lord Parrington secretly yearned after a more adventurous life. Could Mab’s sudden interest in robberies and magistrates have to do with Lord March? he wondered. Could the vanished peer have run afoul of Bow Street?
    If so, Fergus wanted no further part of the business. “You may trust me,” he responded stiffly. “Upon my honor, Mab!”
    Here was a pretty pickle; did she not reveal confidences, Lord Parrington would take offense. Unfortunately, Mab knew not what tale to tell, the explanation of Marriot’s disappearance not having reached its final draft. She cast about in her mind. Nor was her ultimate utterance surprising in view of the recent invasion scares. Looking very conspiratorial, Mab leaned closer to the baron and breathed, “Spies!”
    Spies? Whatever Fergus had expected, it was not that Lord March was involved in an attempt to thwart the ambitious Corsican. Indeed, so stunned was Fergus that he failed to wonder what the Emperor of the French had to do with thieves and magistrates and Bow Street. “Jupiter!” he