“There, you’re free,” she said to Mari, holding up the necklace. “It’s probably best if you leave first,” she said to Edgar. “We’ll follow after a safe amount of time.”
Edgar nodded, handed India the lamp and slipped through the curtain.
India held up the lamp. “Now then, do you want to tell me what was happening in here?”
Mari blushed. “I don’t know what you mean. He was hiding from Lady Blanche and I was tangled and...”
India knew.
“Do you love him?” India asked softly.
“What? I don’t love him,” Mari said vehemently. Well she didn’t, did she? She wouldn’t be that foolish.
“I was only a little carried away,” Mari said, wrapping herself in the pashmina. “I got caught up in my role as Pharaoh and I may have... he may have...”
“You kissed.”
“Yes,” Mari admitted. “But it didn’t mean anything. It was a momentary lapse of reason.”
And there are sparks still burning inside me.
“My brother is no heartless seducer. If he kissed you, it means something,” said India.
“It means we were both carried away by the moment. It can never happen again.”
“Keep telling yourself that,Mari-rhymes-with-starry.” India’s violet eyes sparkled in the gloom. “I have a feeling something’s about to begin...”
If you are brave enough to chase it.
“Nothing’s beginning,” said Mari shortly. “Bad beginning, worse end.”
“Ah... back to the proverbs. Button yourself up. Repin that hair.”
“I will, thank you very much. I’m not meant for gold crowns. I told you it was a bad idea to have me portray your Pharaoh.”
“It worked perfectly, from my perspective,” said India, with a wide grin.
She held the curtain open for Mari. “Shall we? Your adoring public awaits, my queen.”
When Mari and India entered the Gold Salon, most of the guests were already gone.
India placed the gold collar necklace on a plaster bust of a woman’s head sitting on black velvet.
Edgar was talking to the twins, smiling at them in a way that made Mari’s heart beat faster.
She was about to make her way toward them when a gentleman with gray whiskers and an avaricious smile appeared at her elbow. “Miss Perkins, is it? Or should I say Hatshepsut?” He clasped her hand and bowed over it. “The Earl of Haddock, your devoted subject.”
“My lord.” Mari nodded. “I’m not a Pharaoh. Merely a governess. And my charges are just there, so I must go to them.”
Haddock followed the direction of her gaze. “Banksford has all the luck,” he said smoothly. “I wish I had children in the nursery still so that I might steal you away from him. Would you care for some punch?”
A footman proffered a tray.
“No, thank you,” she said. “I must go to the children.”
He cocked his head. “You remind me of someone, Miss Perkins. A woman I used to know.”
Mari didn’t like the insinuating spark in his eyes. “And no gentleman has ever saidthatto a lady before.”