Beastly Lords Collection

by Baily, Sydney Jane

Tapping on the door, Jenny waited patiently for a response. Simon had told her of his inability to extract information from the widow. Upon her only encounter with Maude in the library, Jenny had seen how easily the woman went from speaking freely to closing up like a miser’s purse.

  However, it only made sense that some answers must lie with the widow. She tapped again. Nothing.

  Turning away, Jenny took two steps down the hallway before stopping. Squaring her shoulders, she turned and approached the door again. Her door in her home. She would enter unbidden, since she had been assured this was not the woman’s bedroom but a sitting room.

  With a swift turn of the brass knob, she swung the door open. It was apparent that the room was empty. Moreover, Jenny could see this parlor was merely the first of a string of rooms, all joined like Simon’s chambers by two sets of doors, allowing one to stroll in a loop if one wished.

  Somewhere, in one of the rooms, the children must be playing, for their voices echoed on the parquet and high ceilings, reaching Jenny’s ears.

  The talking and occasional laughter was quite comforting, and she guessed the apartment would seem extremely lonely if it were silent. Walking farther in, she came to the next room that was set up as a charming dining room where no doubt Tobias’s family ate. How sad to think of their lives going on without the young man.

  “Non, j’ai dit non!” Maude’s voice came from behind the closed door to the next room, speaking in French perhaps because something—or someone—had upset her. Then she said in English, “You must go tell him it is finished. At an end. Finis!”

  A man’s voice, one she didn’t recognize, argued with her, “He won’t like it, my lady.”

  “If the new earl sees you, he may recognize you, and then there will be questions.”

  The entire puzzling exchange had taken only moments, and suddenly, Jenny realized their footsteps were drawing closer to the door between the rooms. Running, in her slippered feet, she made it back into the center of the parlor when she heard them enter the dining room. All she could do was turn and face them, standing in the middle of the room as if she’d only then walked in.

  Lady Devere and Master Cheeseface were already in the parlor when they looked up and saw her. Maude gasped, and they both halted.

  Jenny held her ground. She could not curtsey first without losing face, but she could speak first. Indeed, protocol demanded it.

  “It is good to see you well, Lady Devere, after your many headaches.”

  The widow flushed and then remembered whom she now addressed. She curtsied, low enough to seem respectful but without showing any true deference.

  “Thank you, my lady. I wasn’t aware you had returned from your wedding trip,” Maude said, though Jenny knew this could not be true. “This is my children’s arithmetic’s tutor, Master Dolbert.”

  The man bowed low, and Jenny was doubtful he even remembered their brief encounter at the side entrance. Did it matter? Should she mention she’d met him before? He had the same disinterested expression now as he had then, a man who preferred to look anywhere but directly into one’s eyes.

  “Congratulations on your nuptials,” Maude added, clearly wishing to keep Jenny’s attention from the man at her side.

  Jenny thanked her, wondering not for the first time why the widow hadn’t come to the chapel for the wedding or attended the breakfast feast, though both Peter and Alice had been there. It would be impolite to ask, of course.

  “I was not even aware the earl was courting you,” Maude said a little offhandedly.

  “I can certainly understand how some might say they were surprised,” Jenny allowed, though if anything more was said, by Maude or anyone else, it would be inappropriate. Any implication of undue haste was beyond rude, except when her own dear Maggie said it.

  Maude shrugged in her Gallic fashion, and an awkward silence descended. Politeness demanded the woman invite Jenny to sit and have tea. She didn’t. Instead, she turned to the tutor.

  “You may go. Thank you for the update on the children’s progress.”

  Master Dolbert nodded, bowed deeply again to Jenny, a shallower bow to Maude, and then he departed through the open door to the hallway as quickly as a rabbit with a fox on his tail.

  The two ladies stared at one another.

  “We visited my husband’s uncle while we were away. Your father-in-law.”

  Ah, that got a reaction, Jenny noted with curiosity.

  Maude paled and sat down, then jumped up once more as if she’d sat on something hot.

  “My apologies. Will you sit?” she invited at last with little enthusiasm.

  “Thank you.” Jenny would keep this civil, but she was not leaving without learning more. Seeing a book on the chair, she asked, “What are you reading?”

  “Voltaire.” The woman said nothing more.

  “I have read him only in translation.”

  “It is not the same,” Maude pointed out, looking disappointed.

  Feeling a sliver of insecurity, especially in light of the woman’s superb command of both English and French, Jenny explained, “Unfortunately, I do not have the command of your native tongue like my sister has, which is why she and not I tutor Peter and Alice.”

  It would’ve been boorishly defensive of her to mention she had other talents. In any case, discussion of tutoring reminded Jenny of a question that had been nettling her like a pebble in her slipper. Was she not the Countess of Lindsey? She supposed she could get away with asking Maude whatever she wanted.

  “Speaking of which, who pays my sister to come tutor your children?

  Maude stared as if the question, or the asker, made no sense.

  Jenny waited. If she put words into the woman’s mouth, she would never learn the truth.

  Finally, the widow’s gaze slid to the floor.

  “Why do you ask? Why would you assume I am not the one who pays?”

  Hmm, two questions for her one. Not really an answer. Certainly not a forthright one.

  “Forgive me, Lady Devere, however, I am under the impression, perhaps wrongly, that you have no income of your own. Yet you pay my sister and Master Dolbert?”

  A long hesitation, as well as the widow’s pursed lips, met Jenny’s questioning words. When Maude at last realized Jenny was not going to fill the silence with idle chatter or retract the question, the lady sighed.

  “You are quite correct. However, I have a little money from the sale of my home.” She lifted her chin, looking rather mutinously proud. “When that is gone, then …”

  Jenny understood the fear of financial ruin and wished to comfort this rather prickly woman. “I am sorry for your situation. I am certain my husband will keep you and your children under his protection for as long as you need. In your place, I can see why you sold the hall, but why won’t you tell us to whom you sold it?”

  Maude shook her head. “I do not know.”

  Jenny persisted. “The servant at the hall said you did.”

  “She lied. How does she even know me?”

  “The maid said it was Lady Devere who told her not to tell my husband who her master was.”

  Frowning, Maude kept her gaze on her own hands resting in her lap. All at once, she looked up at Jenny, and her puzzled expression cleared.

  “There is more than one Lady Devere.”

  It was Jenny’s turn to frown. Then she realized she had met the other one, Letitia, Lord James Devere’s irritating wife.

  Why would she have any say at Jonling Hall? Simon’s uncle’s home bespoke of miserliness or an extreme lack of funds. Certainly, he didn’t seem like someone who could afford to purchase the hall, though Jenny could quite believe he would turn out his own daughter-in-law. Especially when James had hoped to push her into the arms of the new earl.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  Maude merely pursed her lips before muttering, “I don’t know anything.”

  She knew something, as evidenced by the conversation Jenny had o
verheard.

  “The mathematics tutor, I met him once before.”

  Blanching, Maude whispered, “Dolbert.”

  A strange reaction to a seemingly banal man.

  “Is something wrong?”

  The widow shook her blonde head.

  “I … I have a megrim coming on.”

  Ah, the ever-at-the-ready headache that kept the widow from dinners or wedding nuptials and now threatened to send Jenny from the room.

  “My mother always uses oil of peppermint on the back of her neck and temples. Shall we ring for some? Or perhaps simply a strong cup of tea?”

  Maude’s eyes widened, then she got up and strode to the bell pull. “I shall ring for tea,” she said.

  “Very good.”

  They sat in strained silence, first while they waited for the response from below stairs, and then while they waited for the ordered tea.

  “Sublime weather,” Jenny said, at last. “Why, there were flowers in bloom everywhere we went.”

  Maude nodded.

  Sighing, Jenny decided to wait out the other woman. She would busy herself reciting the multiplication tables, which she often used to help her fall asleep. Having reached the table of five, she was pleased the tea had arrived as she was already beginning to feel a tad drowsy.

  Jenny was even more pleased to see there were shortbread biscuits.

  “Nothing like a biscuit to perk one up in the afternoon.” She took a bite of one as the maid poured their tea.

  Maude nodded noncommittally.

  Goodness, Jenny thought. I’m starting to sound like my mother.

  “Anyway, where were we? Discussing Master Dolbert, I believe.”

  Maude’s eyes opened wide, but Jenny would not be put off. This was too important to the Deveres, and now she was one of them. Taking a sip of the bracing hot beverage, she waited.

  Maude drank her tea, nibbled at the shortbread, and even put her fingers to her temple, but Jenny simply sat and said nothing more.

  “My father-in-law suggested I hire him.”

  Jenny almost missed the woman’s words, spoken softly.

  “I beg your pardon. Do you mean to say Lord Devere suggested you hire a mathematics tutor, or Master Dolbert in particular?”

  “Dolbert.”

  Jenny tried to reconcile such interest in the education of his grandchildren with the curt, stingy man who seemed to neglect his home and was perhaps starving his own wife.

  “I am …” astonished “… pleased your father-in-law has such loving concern for Peter and Alice.”

  Mayhap the man’s abhorrent behavior during their visit was entirely brought on by grief after all.

  She had one last question. Dredging up the information given to her by the owners of the Deveres’ investments.

  “Do you know Mr. H. Keeble?”

  Her face growing even paler if possible, Maude opened her mouth once, twice, thrice, clearly caught off guard. At last, stiffly and with bulging eyes, she shook her head.

  “No? You’ve never heard of him?” Jenny almost laughed at the woman’s obvious perfidy.

  Maude shook her head once more.

  “Who is he?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  “No matter,” Jenny said, dismissing the topic. She wouldn’t be made a fool of, explaining what little she knew to this woman who clearly knew more.

  Standing, Jenny took her leave. It had been an interesting visit, but in her heart, she felt it would be best if the widow left Belton sooner rather than later. It was beyond disconcerting to have a liar, and potentially a thief, in their midst.

  Determined to keep a close eye on Maude for the sake of her husband’s estate, Jenny turned at the door.

  The woman had remained seated but stared at her from across the spacious room.

  “My husband requests that you and your children attend the evening meal with us in the future. After all, we are one family.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Jenny left. If Maude dared to disobey such a request, she’d be forced to send in the admiral!

  *

  “If your cousin was acting on behalf of your uncle, then why wouldn’t James have a palatial residence instead of letting his home become so rundown?”

  They’d been going around the topic for the better part of an hour and getting nowhere. Simon was quite ready to drop it for the time being.

  He took a sip of brandy and leaned back against the sofa. His intelligent wife was like a Bow Street runner, simply not going to let the matter of embezzled monies go until she’d sussed out the culprit.

  “On the other hand, you firmly believe Tobias would not do such a thing to betray your father and you without being encouraged, or even forced. Correct?”

  Nodding, Simon set his glass down on the table beside him and yawned before reaching for Jenny and dragging her closer to him.

  “There,” he said, when she was snuggled against his side. “That’s better.”

  Encouraged by her soft laughter, when she looked up at him, he stole a kiss.

  “My lord, we must focus on the issue at hand.”

  “My lady, we can know nothing more until we either go to London or send someone on our behalf to check into this Mr. Keeble. In the meantime, at least we have solved the mystery of the diminishing income.”

  Jenny worried her lower lip with her teeth. He loved seeing new things he hadn’t noticed before.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “What is what?”

  “You’re staring. Do I have the remains of something on my face?”

  “No, wife. You look perfect as always.”

  This time her laughter was more of an unladylike snort that caused him to chuckle as well.

  “I am far from perfect,” she protested.

  “Closer to it than I am,” he pointed out.

  Sighing, she gave him that patient look he wasn’t sure he liked. She dismissed his nighttime violence as if it were inconsequential. All he could think of was how it felt to wake up and realize his hands were around her slender neck. And she was still wearing high-necked gowns to hide the last of the bruises, now a yellowish brown.

  “When shall we go to London?” Jenny asked.

  How could he take her without getting separate rooms at every inn as well as maintaining that status in his townhouse? She would fight him as she’d been doing most nights here at Belton. And when traveling, things could be even more unpredictable.

  “Actually, I am thinking to go on my own.” Simon ignored her puzzled look. “I will ride rather than take the carriage. I can get there more quickly, meet with Keeble, spend only one night in London, and return the following day.”

  “Why can’t I go with you? I thought I was your estate manager?”

  “You are. But there could be danger. We don’t know what manner of man with whom we are dealing. Thug or gentleman.”

  “Which is why you shouldn’t go alone.”

  He nearly laughed but sensed that would offend her.

  “Dear wife, I can handle myself, and while I am sure any villain would be terrified by your stature.” He paused when she punched him in the shoulder. “I would feel better knowing you are safely at home.”

  She was muttering under her breath about safety, and he wished he could make her realize how her wellbeing was now of the utmost importance to him. To protect her was his duty. And he would not fail her as he had Toby.

  “Nevertheless, I should very much like to see the townhouse, especially as my sisters and mother will be residing there in a matter of months. Let me accompany you on the journey, and I will stay well away from Mr. Keeble. Or am I your estate manager in name only? Is it true or a lie?”

  It was his turn to sigh. For she had certainly made mincemeat of his argument. How could he keep her home? He thought if she were carrying his child, she would stay home, but he was rather premature with that hope.

  “Simon, what are you thinking?”

  “That we should have childr
en immediately!”

  “I beg your pardon?” She leaned away from him, perhaps to ascertain his seriousness.

  “We should get you started on producing babes so you have appropriate concerns and interests. Not musty ledgers. You shouldn’t be concerned with boring things, such as …”

  “Going to London?” she finished for him when he trailed off lamely. “The most exciting city in the world?”

  “Also filthy, crowded, and smelly.”

  In truth, he would love to go to Vauxhall with her and to the opera. Maybe even to Astley’s. Jenny would simply have to agree to his rules for sleeping, both on the journey and in Town.

  Thus, Simon found himself in his carriage with his wife a few days later, headed to London.

  “Are you terribly annoyed I’m with you?”

  Simon could tell by her expression she knew he wasn’t, and also that she didn’t care. She was simply thrilled, if her eyes told the truth, to be going with him.

  “Yes,” he lied, a slight smile upon his lips. “I’m dreadfully furious, can’t you tell?”

  He reached over and took her beloved face in his hands.

  “Oh,” she murmured, obviously waiting to be kissed.

  Claiming her soft lips beneath his, he relished the way she clasped her fingers behind his neck. Slanting his mouth, he gently but determinedly slipped his tongue into her sweet warmth.

  “Mm,” she moaned.

  When they parted, she had the slightly disheveled, distracted appearance that always stirred him to want to do it again, as well as a great deal more.

  “That is my favorite part of traveling,” Jenny confessed, as she lifted her heavy lids and smiled at him.

  “Mine, too.”

  As he’d feared, she put up a fight when he said he would procure two rooms on the first of four nights at an inn.

  “I will not have people thinking we are that type of couple.”

  “What type of couple?” Simon couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice. He simply wanted her to be able to sleep safely.

  “The type who don’t have enough affection for one another to sleep together. As if we can’t bear the other’s company.”

  He sent his eyes rolling skyward as they stood outside the inn, arguing like fishwives.

  “I believe no one thinks anything of the sort. It is perfectly normal to get two chambers. In fact, quite the contrary, they will think we are like rutting goats if we need only one room when travelling.”