Page 24 of The Gilded Masquerade
“Right you are. Then, you have made your decision regarding marriage?”
“I have not. I merely do not wish to be entirely forgotten for one day I may again find myself in the young lady’s company, perhaps in New York.”
“Upon the assumption you are both unmarried.”
“Indeed.”
“Then, what is your plan without causing scandal to both your good names?”
“Simply, I would like for you to deliver a book to her.”
“A gift? No, sir. I strongly caution you.”
“I will not include my card.”
“Ah! A book sent clandestinely is innocent and provides you anonymity from censure. Yes, very good, indeed.” Grayson seemed lighter, almost enthusiastic about the plot.
“There would be no culpable evidence of my participation in the scheme,” he added.
“Will the young lady understand you are the mysterious sender?”
“She will.”
“Are you certain there will be no offense or, more importantly, misinterpretation of your intention?”
“I do not believe so.”
“Intriguing.”
“I trust I have not made you uncomfortable,” he asked, when Grayson folded his hands in front of himself.
“On the contrary. I am … decidedly all in for your scheme. Where is the lady’s accommodation?”
“I do not know.”
“What is her name?”
“I do not know.”
“Well, then, was she chaperoned last evening?”
“She arrived with an aunt and uncle.”
“An excellent place to begin. Do you know the uncle’s surname or title?”
“I do not.”
“Perchance, would she be listed in the American Social Register?”
“I assume, yes.”
“Well then, who are her relations?”
He shook his head. “I do not know.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy, but how am I to proceed with this wayward mission of ours? Is there nothing you can impart?”
“She wore a gown of gold and possessed the finest eyes I have ever beheld.” Yes, finest, windows to her soul, and when she spoke of topics to her delight, they sparkled, nay, blazed, holding him captive with their luminosity.
