Definitely Not Mr. Darcy

Chloe squirmed in her chair. Tapping Henry for information wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth the effort. And it was fun to spar with him. Stil , she felt comforted by the fact that Sebastian must’ve been overstating his hunting prowess to impress the women. He did have the reputation of a Regency squire to live up to, after al .

Sebastian stood, and al eyes moved toward him. “Yes, bon appétit, and, I’d like to invite al the ladies, and Henry, too, of course, to join me in a mock foxhunt on Sunday, nine in the morning. Ladies, we won’t be pursuing a real fox, so not to worry.”

Chloe looked toward the windows. Forget the fox. This meant she’d have to ride a horse sidesaddle. And, no doubt, this was another reality-show task with Accomplishment Points attached and nonparticipants asked to leave.

Julia practical y bounced up and down in her chair and her chaperone glared at her until she calmed down.

“A hunt,” Grace said.

Surely, Chloe thought, Miss Parker didn’t have enough status to ride. Chloe hadn’t ridden a horse since col ege. Could she stil do it? Plus, here it would have to be sidesaddle.

Mrs. Crescent leaned toward Chloe and said across the table, “We’l spend the next three days riding, Miss Parker. Count on it!”

Chloe stared at the arrangement of smal woodland animals in front of her.

“Miss Parker,” Sebastian asked from the head of the table. “Are you quite al right?”

English men were so attentive. Chloe was about to respond when suddenly Mrs. Crescent pushed herself up out of her chair, her hands propped on the smal of her back, sweat gathering under her curled bangs. “It’s time!” she said, putting one hand on her bel y. “It’s time!”

Chloe’s stomach tightened as she remembered the night she gave birth to Abigail. Abigail came a week early, and Winthrop was in Washington on business.

Chloe hurried over to Mrs. Crescent, but Henry was already there, guiding her to a fainting couch by the window. He took the watch from his watch fob and started timing the contractions.

Sebastian and Grace gawked. The chaperones and their charges crowded around Mrs. Crescent.

“Breathe. That’s right,” Henry said. He took her hand.

Mrs. Crescent did her breathing, stood, and paced. Chloe paced with her.

“We should cal her OB,” Chloe said to Henry. “An ambulance to take her to the hospital.”

“Contractions are stil wel over three minutes apart.” With his back to the camera, he spoke a mile a minute to Chloe. “We won’t be cal ing anyone. She wants to have her baby here. Nineteenth-century style.”

“What?! There is no way—”

“Perhaps instead of being so dogmatic, you could do something useful, Miss Parker?”

Chloe gulped and stepped back. Sebastian had disappeared and so had the al the footmen and servants. Grace took backward steps toward the door. Was Grace snagging some alone time with Sebastian—now? Chloe couldn’t let it happen. But she also couldn’t let Henry think she was a dogmatic idiot either. She released her arm from Mrs. Crescent’s. “Julia, Gil ian. Stay with her. I’m going to get the kitchen maids to boil some water.” She dashed out the door and almost banged into Sebastian. Again.

Sebastian looked worried. “I—I’m not good in these situations. I’m an artist, not a doctor.”

He was an artist? What kind of an artist? she wondered. Then Mrs. Crescent groaned. “Come help me boil some water,” Chloe said. “I don’t even know where the kitchen is.”

Grace stood next to her chaperone at the dining room doors, her hands on her hips.

“We have to hurry,” Chloe said. “Which way?”

“Fol ow me,” Sebastian said.

Chloe was right on his coattails. She smiled to herself. She was chasing him—literal y now. And al this dashing through the marble hal s lined with antiquities would have been fun had it not been for the gravity of a woman giving birth without a hospital, without an epidural! After scrambling down the servant stairway into the kitchen, Sebastian stopped. Servants and footmen were bustling about, frantical y boiling water on the old stove and in the kitchen fireplace. So this was where they had al gone.

“What can I do?” Chloe dove into the fray.

A kitchen maid scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be down here!” She spotted Sebastian and curtsied. “Excuse me, miss, but we’ve got it sorted.

Best if you get upstairs.” She shooed Chloe out.

Chloe hurried up to the top of the stairs and Sebastian fol owed.

“Now what?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Sebastian rubbed the cleft in his chin. “I told you I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

Chloe snapped her fingers. “They’l need linens. Where’s the linen closet?”

Sebastian smiled. “My valet takes care of everything. I hardly know where he keeps my boots.”

He was sweet, real y sweet. Like a boy. Chloe racked her brain, trying to figure out what they could do. She leaned up against a marble column and blew a strand of hair that had fal en into her eyes.

Sebastian moved closer, waiting for her to take the lead.