“You’re making great progress with the twins, Miss Perkins,” said Lady India.
“Thank you. And won’t you call me Mari?”
“And you must call me Indy. All of my friends do.”
Were they friends? Mari liked the idea. “I couldn’t call you Indy. But perhaps... India. I would be honored.”
“I’m glad we’re friends,” said India. “You’re not at all like any governess I’ve ever met. Why must you work for a living? It must be so dreary.”
Mari raised her eyebrows. “Michel and Adeledreary?”
India laughed. “I suppose that’s the wrong adjective. But you seem to me to be made for grander things.”
“Your brother accused me of being a spy.”
“Did he? I told you not to mind his growling.”
What about hiskisses... should she mind those? And did they have any deeper meaning?
She’d been thinking about their kiss at the foundry. Remembering the play of sinews and muscles beneath his shirt. Wondering what he looked like without his shirt.
You don’t have to maul the poor man with your mind every chance you get.
India gave her a little smile. “I’m glad things are going so well... with the children.”
“They’re beginning to trust me, I can feel it.”
“Splendid. Now then, are the stars all hung?”
Mari nodded.
“Everything must be perfect,” said India, turning in a slow circle to survey the room. “Ravenwood will be here this evening.”
“Ah. Edg—His Grace—told us about Ravenwood. Your sworn enemy, I hear?”
“He thinks he’s a great antiquities hunter but all he does is lounge about in hotels consorting with the local courtesans, while I’m out actually digging in the dirt, making important discoveries. When he’s had his fill of debauchery, he just buys whatever antiquities he wants from unscrupulous thieves. It’s beyond provoking.”
Mari hid a smile. Sounded like Lady India paid quite a bit of attention to this Ravenwood.
“He’ll have nothing to fault you for tonight. It’s going to be very impressive.”
“You’ll make it impressive.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” She gave Mari an innocent smile. “I have a part for you to play in my tableau.”
“I don’t know,” said Mari doubtfully. “I’ve never been on stage before.”
India drew aside the velvet curtains hanging from the small, enclosed stage the footmen had pieced together from painted wooden panels.
She caught Mari’s chin in her hand and turned her head. “Your profile will be illumined by the shining moon. You’ll have a crown on your head and a magnificent golden collar necklace at your throat.”
“A queen? I’m not sure that I’m queenly enough.”
“A Pharaoh, Mari. Not just a queen. Oh, I’m going to ruffle so many feathers tonight. How they will squawk and protest. Especially Ravenwood. I simply can’t wait to see his face.”
“But shouldn’t your Egyptian queen be portrayed by someone more regal? Perhapsyoucould play the role?”