Debutantes Don't Date. Kristina O'Grady

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СКАЧАТЬ and that I have never heard of a ‘Jane, Duchess of Kensington’. I think, my dear, you are confused and that it’s best if you sit down.” The lady led Grace back to her seat and sat next to her. “Lord Bingham!” the lady commanded. “Go and find my butler, Harvey, and tell him I require his services in the library, please.” She patted Grace’s hand. “Lady Harrison, fetch that blanket by the fire, will you, dear? And Lord Harrison, make yourself useful and fetch us all a glass of sherry.”

      The world had stopped. Grace could feel herself falling. Everything was spinning around her. All she could think was ‘am I going crazy?’ Her vision narrowed, everything lost focus and her world slowly turned to black.

       Chapter Four

      Conversation and laughter quieted to an eerie silence as the foursome emerged from the library. Mrs Barrett had made certain the scene she had been privy to was spread to all her dearest friends. Of course she was shocked, simply shocked, she would say, at Bingham’s behaviour. She couldn’t say anything at all about the American however. Americans are very crass, don’t you know?

      Everyone in the room stopped to watch the foursome leave the ball. Once the door shut behind them the room burst into animated conversation with the ladies whispering and giggling behind their fans and the men smiling knowingly to each other. The infamous Lord Bingham had finally been brought down by a woman.

      Lord Bingham escorted Grace past the throng of spectators, his hand warm upon her back. She welcomed his support as she passed each curious face, so much so that she found herself leaning into his side. But she stopped dead when the front door opened before them.

      What was going on?

      The street was lined with horse-drawn carriages. The streetlights held flames, not the steady glow of light bulbs. Snow lay thick on the ground and smoke from many fireplaces filled the air. This was not the London she knew. She had arrived here this afternoon in a cab, and the streets had been packed with noisy cars and trucks. Where were they now?

      “Miss Lancaster?” Lord Bingham’s voice was warm against her ear. “Come, our carriage is waiting.” He led her down the steps of the Manor and handed her into the carriage. He followed her in and settled himself beside her. Lord and Lady Harrison were already seated across from them.

      She gazed out the window of the carriage and saw the streets filled with more carriages and carts and horses. She looked across to the other seat at her companions. She studied their clothes. She didn’t think they were wearing costumes like she was. She could feel the zipper against her skin. Lady Harrison’s dress had buttons down the back; she noticed them when she was led from the library. This was all too much for her to take in.

      Grace frantically dug into the purse attached to her wrist. She fumbled for her cell phone and desperately tried to get a signal. It was no use. There was no signal. Things were not right here. In fact they were very, very wrong! She felt the panic begin to rise in her throat again but before it could overtake her, the carriage stopped and the coachman opened the door to reveal a grand house.

      “Welcome to our home, Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said as she turned to welcome her guest down from the carriage.

      Grace felt her mouth fall open; she had never seen such a huge house. In the dark it was magnificent, all lit up. Looking all the way up to the roof hurt her neck. She had read all about Mayfair in the romances she used to read, and she always pictured town houses all stuck together, but to actually be here and see these grand houses for herself was something else entirely.

      As Lord Bingham led her up the steps with his hand once again on the small of her back, a distinguished-looking gentleman opened the door of the house.

      “Good evening, Hoskins, this is Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said to her butler once he had closed the door behind them.

      The old man turned his eye to her and bowed at the waist. Grace expected to hear him creak as he straightened but for such an elderly man he seemed agile enough. “Pleased to meet you, miss.”

      “It is very nice to meet you too, Mr Hoskins.” She managed a small smile and shook his hand.

      “Miss Lancaster will be staying with us for a little while, please have Mrs Walters make up the blue room. We will retire to the drawing room. Have Matilda bring some tea please.”

      “Of course, my lady. And Miss Lancaster’s maid? I’ll direct her to the blue room to unpack the Miss’s things.” Hoskins glanced around looking for the obviously missing items.

      “Um. We seem to have misplaced Miss Lancaster’s maid and luggage. Perhaps Polly could stand in for the time being and something should be arranged for Miss Lancaster to retire into tonight. I’m sure everything will be sorted out by tomorrow.”

      “As you wish, my lady,” Hoskins bowed again before turning to carry out his instructions.

      “Come with me, Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said as she linked arms with Grace and pulled her down the hallway. “We need to have a little talk without you interfering, my dears. We’ll see you in the morning,” Lady Harrison called with a grin over her shoulder to the men still standing in the entrance way before shutting the drawing room door behind her.

      “It seems to me, Miss Lancaster, that we have a mystery to solve, don’t you think?” Lady Harrison spoke as soon as they both were seated on the floral sofa.

      Grace ran her hand along the upholstery. The gold thread shimmered in the candle light, the silky fabric rustled under her hand. She didn’t want to talk to this lady, all she wanted to do was go back to her hotel room, crawl into bed and go to sleep. She was sure if she could just wake up from this crazy dream, everything would be OK.

      “Miss Lancaster?”

      “Yes.” Grace finally looked up into Lady Harrison’s eyes. “I don’t know what’s happening. Everything is not as it should be. You’re not as you should be. I need to find my boss and my crew. Something is not right.”

      “You’re right. Things are not right. Something has happened to you, something that is unexplainable. But, we need to figure out what it is; otherwise I fear my husband will throw you into Bedlam. So, let us start at the beginning. What is the last ‘normal’ occurrence you remember?”

      For a moment Grace couldn’t breathe; her throat closed at the word Bedlam. Did they still have such a place? “I remember having a few drinks during my break, I remember the lights going out and I remember hitting my head quite hard on the back of a table, I remember your brother rescuing me from all the eyes of guests who were outraged at seeing more than they should’ve when I was trying to get up. I remember taking your brother into the alcove and kissing him, I remember that nosy old lady and your brother telling her we were going to be married, I remember the library and you and your husband and some old lady who thinks she’s the Duchess of Kensington but isn’t.”

      “I didn’t know you hit your head.” Lady Harrison ignored everything else Grace had said, except that.

      “Yeah, I don’t really remember why I was under there to begin with, maybe I dropped something? But I do remember cracking my head on it.”

      “How did the lights go out?”

      “What do you mean, how did they go out? There must have been a power cut.”

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