“But I want her to meet Lord Peverell,” Rebecca protested, raising her arms so Hester could slip the gown off over her head. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce her when he was here for tea.”
Hester glanced to her mother and the seamstress, but they appeared engaged in their discussion about the perfect length of a gown for dancing.
“Lord Peverell will likely be too busy as well,” Hester told her, laying the dress safely aside.
“Next time he comes for tea?” Rebecca asked plaintively.
How could she promise her daughter Rob would return? She wasn’t sure when she might see him again. Unlike second sons, viscounts did not have the luxury of strolling the Downs looking for pretty girls to woo.
“Perhaps,” Hester said, rising from where she’d knelt beside her daughter.
Her mother bustled up to them and turned this way and that. “What do you think? Is the color too bold for a woman of my years?”
Hester regarded the deep purple, like mulberries. “Not at all, Mother. You look very well in it.”
She plucked at the gentle dip of the neckline. “Perhaps a bit of lace?”
“If it pleases you.” Hester held out her hands as the seamstress brought her dress. Such a fine silk, such a pretty color. Rebecca wasn’t the only one who looked good in rose.
“You should not wear lace,” her mother said as Hester took the dress. “I want you looking your best too. Men think about marriage at weddings.”
Her cheeks were probably as rosy as her gown. She tipped her head to where Rebecca was smoothing down Esmeralda’s skirts and promising the doll she would have a new gown soon. “Please, Mother. Let’s not go into that here.”
Her mother frowned as the seamstress began unfastening Hester’s dress so she could try on the new gown. “Why not? You have every right to think about marrying again.”
“So I can have a father,” Rebecca piped up.
The seamstress’s brows rose, and Hester pinned her mother with a look and a shake of her head. She managed to keep them off the subject of marriages and fathers until they had finished at the shop, returned home, and sent Rebecca up to the nursery.
But her mother obviously had more to say about the matter.
“Rosemary is marrying an earl,” she reminded Hester as they retired to the sitting room. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t marry a viscount.”
Hester’s hands were shaking as she went to a chair. “Because he doesn’t want me, Mother.”
Her mother sniffed. “Not from what I can see. He’s been very kind and generous to you and yours—the school, your sister. He’s sat through tea with Rebecca. A viscount doesn’t do that sort of thing unless he’s interested.”
She still couldn’t convince herself, but she couldn’t explain to her mother her past with Rob and why he might want to atone for it.
But did his attentions stem from a desire to atone? She could not make up her mind after her mother had gone to fetch the sewing box. The Rob she’d known had only apologized if it benefitted him in some way, and then he would turn the apology into some clever joke. She could not see how donating to the school or helping Rosemary benefitted him. What was he after?
On the other hand, she wasn’t sure what she was after, encouraging him. Once she’d been as big a dreamer as Rob—thinking about a future where she and her beloved husband had a big house, filled with happy children. She’d receive the finest ladies in the village, her good taste so well regarded that she would be asked to advise on fashion and furnishings. She’d contribute to her congregation and her community.
Only the last had come true, and more from Rosemary’s doing than hers. After Rob had left, everything had changed so fast—wife, mother, widow—that she’d never entirely found her footing again.
And she’d stopped dreaming.
Odd to realize that now. When was the last time she’d thought of the future without trepidation? Her sister had sought to step out on her own as a governess, and Hester had worried. The earl had shown an interest in Rosemary, and Hester had tried to set him straight. She couldn’t bear for her sister to be hurt the way she had been.
But it had all come right. Rosemary had made a marvelous governess. The earl had asked for her hand in marriage. They both seemed deliriously happy.
Perhaps it was time to dust off her own dreams again.
Chapter Nine
“The carriage is ready, my lord,” Bascom announced Tuesday late morning as he stood in the doorway of the withdrawing room Rob’s mother had favored.
As Rob turned away from the view out over the Channel, Elizabeth frowned.
“The carriage?” she asked, setting aside her embroidery. “Are we visiting today?”
Rob reached for the black stock around his neck, then dropped his fingers before he could dislodge it. “I had a matter I wished to discuss with Hester.”
Donner hadn’t had much advice about making connections with the smugglers, but it had struck him that, as the teacher at the dame school, Hester probably spoke with the very people most likely to be involved. While the aristocrats and gentry enjoyed the duty-free goods that appeared as if by magic on their back stoops, the farmers, laborers, and merchants would be the ones arranging for and carrying those goods about the area. One likely acted as lander, who organized the signal for the ships to come in and teams to ferry their plunder inland.
Elizabeth stood to intercept him as he started across the room. “A matter? About what, precisely?”
He hadn’t been given leave to share Donner’s story from the day before, though he’d certainly thought about it more than once since.
“Rumors have come my way,” he hedged. “I thought she might know something of them.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I will not be shut out of such an intriguing conversation. Bascom, ask Kinsey to fetch me my grey velvet hat and the grey redingote. I will accompany my brother.”
Rob tried not to sigh.
Truly, he would not have been able to speak with Hester alone in any event. Her mother and daughter would likely be in attendance as well. But having Elizabeth along meant he’d have to be even more careful in how he phrased his questions.
The morning had been challenging enough. Mercer had arrived with additional papers to sign. Rob had dutifully reviewed each and affixed his signature.
“And were there any repercussions concerning the house after the village evacuated here in August?” he asked as he handed his steward the last piece of parchment.
Mercer regarded Rob as if he had barked like a dog instead of asking a perfectly reasonable question. “Mrs. Kirby, the leasing agent, informed me that Mrs. Catchpole dispatched a cleaning crew,” his steward answered. “Have you found something amiss?”
“Only that I wasn’t told of the incident,” Rob pointed out.
Mercer had the good sense to drop his gaze to the portfolio sticking out from under his slender arm. “You and Miss Peverell were still discussing where you would finish your mourning period, my lord. I didn’t wish to intrude with news that could in no way influence that decision.”
“Kind of you,” Rob acknowledged. “In the future, however, I’d like to know everything about my holdings, no matter how trivial.”
Mercer nodded. “Then I will tell you that we have some concerns about the stability of the rear wing. You and Miss Peverell had not planned to use it, so I saw no reason to mention the matter. But, since you ask…”
The rear wing, one of the most recent additions to his sprawling lodge, stuck out from the southwest corner of the building at a forty-five-degree angle pointing toward the boating shed. It housed a ballroom, receiving rooms, and other function spaces as well as bedchambers for guests on the upper floors.
“What sort of concerns?” Rob asked.
Mercer grimaced. “The foundation may not have been fixed properly. I’ll consult an architect once you and Miss Peverell are safety returned to London. Will there be anything else, my lord?”
/> Surprising how his steward was less patient than Rob. “Yes. You were to hire a night watchman. I’ve heard nothing further.”
Mercer drew himself up. “I assure you that I have done as you asked, my lord. Mr. Chalder, a respected local fellow, will come in from dusk to dawn to watch over the property. You won’t even notice he’s around.”
“Excellent,” Rob said. “I’d like him to report to me every morning before leaving.”
Mercer started. “That could be quite early, my lord.”
Rob smiled. “I’ve been rising remarkably early of late. It will be no trouble.”
Mercer’s smile was strained. “Very well, my lord, if you think it necessary.”
“I’ll expect to see him first thing tomorrow,” Rob told him.
Mercer had hugged his portfolio closer and bowed himself out.
After such an encounter, Rob was heartily glad he was going to seek someone of a more congenial nature, like Hester. Her mother, in particular, seemed delighted to receive him and Elizabeth, seeing them settled in the sitting room while a maid went to inform Hester and her daughter of their arrival.
Rebecca came hugging a wooden doll, the bonnet Hester had purchased on Saturday covering most of the toy’s painted flaxen curls. Rob stood as Hester and her daughter dropped curtsies.
“Lord Peverell, Elizabeth,” Hester said in her quiet voice. “How nice to see you.”
“Hester,” he said, savoring her first name. “Miss Todd. And, unless I miss my guess, this is Esmeralda.”
Rebecca clutched the doll closer. “How did you know?”
“Your mother told me about your special friend,” Rob told her.
Rebecca glanced down at the doll. “She is very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Rob bowed. “And I am pleased to make hers.”
One hand on her daughter’s shoulder, Hester guided her to a seat near the hearth. Rob stationed himself close by, as Mrs. Denby and Elizabeth took the sofa.
“We’ll have lemonade shortly,” she announced before looking to his sister. “And how have you been enjoying yourself, Miss Peverell?”
“I’ve been reading some of the novels in our library here,” his sister confessed. “There’s one in particular I’d like your opinion on, but there’s no need to bother Rob and Hester about the matter. We’ll just put our heads together.” The two suited word to action.
Hester looked to Rob. “Colluding,” she whispered.
“Indeed,” he agreed, enjoying the way the light from the fire brought out the gold in her hair.
“What’s colluding?” Rebecca whispered, glancing between them.
Hester blushed.
“When two or more people share a secret from others,” Rob answered for her. “Your mother and I have a feeling your grandmother and my sister are sharing a secret even now. Perhaps you’d like to go listen.”
Rebecca nodded, deposited Esmeralda on her chair, and ventured closer to the pair on the sofa.
“You shouldn’t encourage her,” Hester told him. “She overhears entirely too much as it is.”
“It’s only for a moment,” he promised her. “I’ve been given some disturbing news, and I was hoping you could help me ferret out the truth.”
Immediately she was all attention. “What’s happened?”
“I have been informed that a ship is docking at my pier on dark nights. My steward and I suspect smugglers.”
She shuddered, color leaching from her cheeks. “I certainly hope not. Lark, my brother, and his local Riding Officer, Alexander Chance, do their best to make sure we aren’t troubled by such criminals. And Abigail told me Saturday that the French spies have been chased out of the area.”
“French spies?”
He must have raised his voice, for both her mother and Elizabeth glanced his way. Rebecca frowned, as if she expected better of him.
He gave them his best smile.
“Forgive me,” he murmured to Hester. “You took me by surprise. How did you and Abigail know there were French spies in the area?”
“Stories abound,” she said. “The two most recent fellows frequented the spa, hiding among the visitors. To think I actually danced with them!” She shuddered again.
“Amazing,” he said. “The spa seems in all ways benevolent.”
“It is,” Hester said. “As is Grace-by-the-Sea and Upper Grace. But we have found it important to defend ourselves. The magistrate leads a Men’s Militia. Abigail Bennett and Jesslyn chartered one for the women.”
He started. “Grace-by-the-Sea has a Women’s Militia? Don’t tell Elizabeth. She’ll want to join.”
“She would be most welcome,” Hester told him. “And needed. We have seen more than our share of spies and smugglers ever since Napoleon started gathering his troops across the Channel. Some people claim they hide in abandoned homes: farmsteads left for the winter, the Castle, the Lodge.”
That set his skin to crawling. “I wish I could assure you no one was hiding in the Lodge, but we haven’t opened half the rooms. A French battalion could have taken up residence, and I wouldn’t know it until they came to demand breakfast from our chef. Tell me, have you heard stories about a Lord of the Smugglers as well?”
She nodded. “Jesslyn and the villagers routed him months ago. He and his gang were taken into custody.”
Was that what the magistrate had meant when Rob had talked to him earlier? “You’re certain?” Rob pressed her.
“Absolutely,” she said. “It was in the Upper Grace Gazette, and Mr. Peascoate is very careful to confirm all stories before printing. Besides, Lark was more than delighted to regale us with the tale. He hadn’t been made Riding Surveyor yet, but he was involved in Mr. Bascom’s capture.”
Rob blinked. “Bascom? Any relation to my footman?”
“His father,” she said. “And I must say it was very kind of you to hire young Ike. He hasn’t had an easy go of it, I understand.”
He hadn’t hired the fellow. Elizabeth had, and he was certain she’d had no knowledge of the boy’s background. Yet he could not believe it a coincidence that the son of smugglers had started working at the Lodge just as a gang of smugglers thought to make use of it.
Did Donner know about Bascom’s father? For that matter, why was Donner claiming the Lord of the Smugglers still active when he’d been captured months ago? Surely the War Office wasn’t that far behind.
Either the intelligence agent was lying, or Grace-by-the-Sea and the Lodge were in more danger than the villagers knew.
~~~
Rob nodded to Hester’s praise, but his lovely hazel eyes had gone unfocused, as if his mind raced ahead to something else. He did not comment further, turning instead to inquire after her mother’s health and Rebecca’s progress in school. He and Elizabeth drank the lemonade the maid served, then took their leave, as polite as any other acquaintances. He had come for answers, and she had given them. As simple as that.
But the visit only raised expectations.
“So nice of them to call,” her mother enthused.
“He liked Esmeralda,” Rebecca said as if she were a proud mama.
“He liked your mother too,” her grandmother said with a look to Hester.
Hester wasn’t so sure. With his questions about smugglers and spies, it still seemed a bit as if Rob had sought her out for entertainment.
But Rob was certainly the entertainment at the assembly Wednesday evening.
It was quieter than usual, mostly the members of the Spa Corporation Council and their families along with the Regulars and a few Newcomers to the spa. Her brother Lark had returned from his sweep down the coast as well. He didn’t have much of an opportunity to speak to her, because her mother, Jesslyn, and Rosemary kept grouping and regrouping to discuss the preparations for the wedding tomorrow. Hester’s sister had been living with Lark and Jesslyn since the announcement of her betrothal, but she intended to sleep in her old room in Upper Grace one last time tonight. Rebecca had been given pe
rmission to stay up and visit.
The attention to Rob quite eclipsed the upcoming nuptials. The vicar followed him about with puppylike adoration, Mr. and Mrs. Greer cornered him, and Mr. Donner clung to his side so tightly Hester’s former devoted dance partner didn’t even take the opportunity to ask her out on the floor. She wasn’t entirely surprised when Rob threw them all off, face hinting of desperation, and retreated to her side.
“Smile,” he instructed her as he sank onto the chair beside her. “Pretend you are delighted to see me.”
“Why do you need my delight?” Hester asked, though she did smile. “You appear to be the talk of the village tonight.”
He tugged at his cravat around his neck. “I’m entirely too popular. One more conversation with the vicar, and I’ll likely donate the Lodge for the care and feeding of indigent pigeons.”
Hester laughed, then schooled her face as Mrs. Greer ventured closer.
“My lord,” she said, completely ignoring Hester at his side. “We were wondering. That is, I had thought. Well, what would you think about an appointment to the spa council?”
She obviously considered it a boon. Her beaming smile said as much. Hester glanced at Rob. It was such a tiny thing compared to the title and privileges he now wielded. Would he understand?
He stood and took the lady’s hand, then bowed over it. “You honor me, Mrs. Greer. But I cannot know when I will be called back to London about some matter of import to the nation. Perhaps you might consider Lord Featherstone as my agent. I have found him to be of sound mind and civil demeanor.”
“An excellent suggestion, my lord,” she simpered as he released her. “I’ll go ask him this very moment and let you know his answer.” She turned in a swirl of white silk and hurried off.
“Quick,” Rob said, holding out a hand to Hester. “Have pity and dance with me. Please.”
She could not refuse such a request. She took his hand and let him lead her onto the floor.
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