“I knew that.”
“Did you want the names of those fiancés?”
“As long as you aren’t one of them, not especially.” He paused. “I can’t believe any intelligent man would let Alexandra Hayden slip through his fingers.”
“Men are never intelligent where women are concerned.”
“She’s awfully clever, Miles. And loyal. According to Comstock’s report, she’s deferred maintenance to the hall to be able to repair the homes of her tenants, with money he’s fairly certain came from her dowry. And she has several loans he believes were for wages to employees she could no longer afford.”
“Rather noble of her, I’d say.”
“That’s what I thought.” He paused. “From what little I saw, and Comstock’s information confirms it, the place is fairly well managed in spite of her lack of funds.”
“And the fact that she’s a woman.”
“Well, there is that.”
“So does she look like an estate manager?”
“Only if estate managers have flashing emerald eyes, and skin like fresh peaches, and the form of a goddess.” At once, her image flashed into his head. Not the stubborn, proud figure he’d last seen watching him from a window but the enticing siren luring him to untold pleasures in his dreams late in the night.
“Oh?” Miles studied him over the rim of his glass.
“So, no, Miles.” Robert grinned. “She does not look like an estate manager.”
“Do you wish to know more about her?”
“Since I haven’t given up hope of buying Nimway, that would probably be useful.”
“Excellent.” Miles nodded. “Then you shall accompany me tonight to Lady Tredberry’s ball.”
Robert groaned. “Not another one. Haven’t I gone to enough?”
“You’ve turned down as many invitations as you’ve accepted.”
“I’m American. They expect very little of me.”
“You have a title, money, and you’re not married,” Miles pointed out.
“That does seem to add to my appeal.” He grinned. “So apparently, I can be forgiven my social transgressions.”
Robert had been inundated with invitations to balls, routs, soirees, garden parties, and who knew what else since his arrival in London. Truth be told, he did rather enjoy balls, soirees, and so forth. Up to a point. “Why go to this one?”
“Any number of reasons. First of all, it’s an enormous society event, and haven’t you always said there’s nothing better for business than good social connections?”
Robert nodded.
“Second, you are the new Viscount Brynmore, and you need to continue navigating the world you have just stepped into, unless, of course, you plan to ignore the title as your father did.”
“I’m not sure what my plans are yet.”
“An appropriate wife from a respected family would help you gain acceptance as well.” Miles grinned. “Just thought I’d mention it.”
“As much as I appreciate you pointing that out, I can’t imagine anything worse than an appropriate wife.” Not that he had anything against marriage. He was simply in no particular hurry to settle down. “I’m not going to marry just to solidify my position. I’ll take my chances without a wife.”
“And third, Miss Hayden’s aunt is going to be there, and you might use the opportunity to learn more about Nimway and its mistress. Find out her thoughts about your offer. You might discover an unexpected ally.”
“Do you really think so?”
“No, but I could be wrong.”
“I suppose there are worse ways to spend the evening than by trying to charm information out of a matron.”
“A widow, actually, twice over.”
Robert winced. “Even better.”
“Her late husband—well, her first late husband—was a distant relative of my mother’s.” Miles smiled pleasantly. “She’s quite active in society, but then you know how lonely widows are. They have nothing else to do with their time.”
Thoughts of his mother’s friends came to mind, and Robert shuddered. “I’m afraid I do.”
“But I’m sure you can handle a spirited older lady.”
“My mother is a spirited older lady, and I’m not sure I can agree with you on that.” Still, he wasn’t at all bad at charming Mother and her friends when necessary. “What’s her name?”
“Lady Viviane Wescott.”
“Which one is she?” Robert studied a group of women about his mother’s age gathered near the refreshment area.
“I believe I saw her dancing a moment ago.” Miles had the most annoying gleam of amusement in his eyes. Robert had noted the same gleam this afternoon, but he’d been too preoccupied with other matters to pay attention at the time. Now, he realized that was the exact look Miles always had when he was about to spring something he thought was amusing. It usually wasn’t.
Robert scanned the dancers then nodded toward a plump older woman who was apparently trying to wrest control of the dance from her partner. “Is that her?”
Miles shook his head. “No.”
Robert’s gaze settled on another elderly matron whose expression of discomfort matched her partner’s. “What about her?”
Miles snorted back a laugh. “Good God, no.”
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been baiting me, haven’t you?”
Miles grinned.
“Just show me who she is.”
“Better yet, I’ll introduce you.” Miles started around the perimeter of the dance floor, and Robert followed. The music stopped, and Miles greeted a lovely blond woman stepping off the floor with her partner. “Good evening, Lady Wescott.”
This was Miss Hayden’s aunt? The twice-widowed Lady Wescott? The spirited older woman? He flashed a hard look at Miles. She couldn’t have been more than ten years older than Robert, if that. With golden-blond hair and a delightful figure, this woman looked more like Miss Hayden’s sister than her aunt. The thought struck Robert that her two husbands had been lucky men. Except for being dead, of course.
Lady Wescott murmured a few words to her partner, who reluctantly took his leave, then smiled at Miles. “Good evening, Miles.”
“You’re looking as beautiful as ever.” Miles took her hand and raised it to his lips.
She laughed. “You are a scamp, Miles. What mischief are you up to tonight?”
“Not nearly enough, I assure you.” Miles chuckled. “I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Viscount Brynmore. Robert, this is Lady Wescott.”
“Delighted to meet you, Lady Wescott.” Robert took her hand.
“Ah, the American viscount.” Her gaze met his, and immediately, he saw the family resemblance. Her eyes were the same shape and clear green color as her niece’s. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Robert raised a brow. “Have you?”
“I’ve tried to protect you,” Miles said, “but a wealthy, titled, eligible bachelor is fair game for gossip and matchmaking mothers.”
“Yes, I have noticed that.” Robert smiled at Lady Wescott. “But you don’t strike me as either a gossip or a matchmaker.”
“Don’t let appearances fool you, my lord.” Her green eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’ve been known to facilitate a match or two, and I do try to know everything there is to know about everyone. Or everyone worth knowing anything about, anyway.”
Miles grinned.
“So what are the gossips saying about me?”
“A newly discovered, eligible lord in London is always talked about. The fact that you’re American is extraordinary, and people are at once fascinated and repulsed.”
Robert slanted a glance at Miles. “Repulsed?”
“Oh, it’s nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you. You’re not one of us. A certain amount of disdain is to be expected.” Her gaze swept over him. “I understand you wish to purchase Nimway.”
He started. “Is that gossip as w
ell?”
“Surprisingly, no. But then news from the wilds of Somerset rarely makes it as far as London.” She smiled pleasantly, but he had the same impression of tempered steel that he’d had from her niece. He suspected there was more than one dragon protecting the realm of Nimway. “Alexandra wrote me, probably the moment you left.”
“I see.” He wasn’t surprised, or at least he shouldn’t be. “Would you care to dance?”
“Oh, it will be much easier for you to elicit information from me if we simply retire to a quiet spot.”
“Why would you think I want to elicit information from you?” he asked cautiously.
“From what I hear, you are an excellent businessman. It’s been my experience that men of business are nearly always cognizant of the opportunity to further their goals whether it’s during business hours or not. More information about my niece could be used to your advantage.”
He stared. “I don’t know what to say.”
“And that’s unusual for you, isn’t it?”
“Very much so.” He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had sparred with him like this, with the glaring exception of her niece.
“I would suggest the terrace. It’s early enough in the evening that it won’t be crowded with couples seeking an intimate moment.”
Robert smiled. “Very well.”
She glanced at Miles. “Are you coming?”
“Why not?” He paused. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
Lady Wescott nodded. “Come along, my lord.”
She started for the doors leading to the terrace, pausing every few feet or so to greet an acquaintance and introduce Robert. He smiled and exchanged meaningless pleasantries, noting Lady Wescott was quite the expert at saying absolutely nothing yet leaving whoever she had spoken to with the belief they had just had a significant conversation.
Finally, they reached the terrace, and she led him to a spot overlooking the gardens. A moment later, Miles arrived with a bottle of champagne and three glasses.
“Excellent, Miles.” Lady Wescott accepted a glass, and Miles filled it. She took a sip then addressed Robert. “I can’t imagine what you think I can tell you that you don’t already know.”
“A definite possibility.” He flashed his most persuasive smile. “Regardless, I would never pass up the chance to have a private conversation with a beautiful woman.”
“What a delightfully charming thing to say.”
Miles choked back a laugh.
She ignored him. “In spite of how charming you may be, Alexandra will never sell Nimway, nor would I advise her to do so. Indeed, I have been fortunate to have inherited a great deal of money which I have invested to my benefit. I certainly don’t have the wealth you reportedly do, but I have amassed a tidy fortune. More than enough to provide for Nimway when the time is right.”
“You mean when she asks?” Miles asked, filling Robert’s glass.
“My niece is rather proud and extremely stubborn.” She shook her head. “Family traits, I’m afraid.”
“Why isn’t she married?” Robert asked without thinking. That wasn’t at all what he’d intended to ask.
“Goodness, my lord, I would never discuss Alexandra’s personal life with a stranger.” She considered him closely. “One does wonder why you asked.”
“My apologies, Lady Wescott. I have no idea why I asked.” He shook his head, although her marital status did figure in his pursuit of her property. After all, he would have to deal with her rather than a husband. But why she wasn’t married made no difference at all. And yet somehow, it did seem important. “Curiosity, I suppose.”
“The fact that Alexandra has been engaged three times and has yet to marry is not a secret. Each time, the parties involved realized, in one way or another, that they were not as suited for each other as they had originally thought.” She sipped her champagne. “Recognizing that you are not right for one another before marriage does seem like an excellent idea.”
“Who would be right for her?” Robert brushed the thought aside the moment it came to mind.
“That is the question, isn’t it?” She smiled pleasantly. “I suspect she will know when she meets him.” She took another sip and studied him closely. “Or Nimway will.”
Miles grinned as if he knew something Robert did not.
Robert frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Nimway is a place of magic. It always has been.”
He cast her a skeptical look. “Magic?”
“Yes, my lord,” she said lightly. “Magic. Surely if you are interested in buying the place, you’re aware of the legends?”
Robert chose his words carefully. “Your niece mentioned something about being descended from Merlin and a sorceress.”
“Nimue.” Lady Wescott nodded.
“But I didn’t really think it was more than a charming local legend.”
“We take our charming local legends quite seriously in England.” Miles raised his glass to Lady Wescott.
“Indeed we do.” She met Robert’s gaze directly. “There is a fine line between legend and history, my lord. Time obscures, and truth is relative. Who can say what did or did not happen hundreds or more years ago?”
“Who indeed?” Miles murmured.
“But magic is, well, it doesn’t exist,” Robert said. “It’s not real.”
“Of course not, my lord. Tales of magic are nothing more than stories to tell to children before bed,” she said in a lighthearted manner. “You are a man of business and no doubt an eminently practical sort.”
“I am.” He nodded.
“And a man who doesn’t admit defeat?”
“He is that,” Miles said.
“Not a man to give up easily, then?”
Miles snorted.
“Well, while I can’t imagine Alex would ever agree to sell Nimway, it seems to me you won’t be able to convince her otherwise from here in London.”
“No,” Robert said slowly. “I suppose not.”
“A man who isn’t around is much easier to ignore than a man who is always there.”
“That is something to consider.” Robert thought for a moment. Lady Wescott did have a good point.
“And you do have a rather decrepit estate of your own in need of considerable repair, do you not?”
“I do.”
“Then perhaps, my dear Lord Brynmore”—her gaze locked on his—“you should return to Somerset to set your own property to rights. And whether or not you believe in magic or legends or all those things you can’t see”—she sipped her wine—“one never knows what might happen. If magic won’t help you, perhaps that charm of yours will. Why, you might even find the answers to some of your questions.”
He raised a brow. “Questions?”
“About Nimway’s magic.”
“I assure you, I have no questions about magic,” he said firmly.
“My mistake.” She smiled pleasantly. “Then the only questions you really want answered”—her eyes twinkled—“are about Alexandra.”
Chapter 5
There was something comforting to be found in lists. Regardless of the topic, there was nothing like compiling lists to give Alex a feeling of efficiency and competency. Lists put her firmly in control of the world around her. Today, however, her lists were dire instruments of doom and disaster, a dismal prediction of what lay ahead. She sighed, rested her head against the back of her chair, and closed her eyes. There was no need to continue to study the pages spread out before her on the desk in the library. She knew the lists by heart. She’d been staring at them all morning.
One was the number of items that needed to be done at once—repairs and replacements and the like. The second consisted of those things that needed to be done but could wait. The items on both of these lists tended to move from one to the other as something that could wait became something that required immediate attention and she decided something else could be put off. Things like the roof, which was leaking more and more
with every rain but, as long as the sun was shining and there were enough buckets in the house, was not urgent. It was a sort of juggling, and she’d become rather skilled at it. The items on the third list were the most urgent, comprising bills that needed to be paid and, of course, taxes. These were lists she lived with every day. The next list was the shortest and most distressing as it was the income coming into the estate. She’d cut the tenants’ rent to next to nothing, and the honey production from the bees on the estate had dropped to next to nothing as well for some unknown reason. It seemed even the bees had abandoned her. But as bad as all her lists were, it was the last one that broke her heart.
She, Pearson, and Mrs. Hopkins had spent nearly a week going through the hall from the attic to the wine cellar, cataloguing everything of value, anything that could be sold. Many of her ancestors had delighted in traveling the world and had brought back paintings and small objets d’art, most of them quite valuable. Others had been fond of jewelry, and there were a number of pieces that might fetch tidy sums. Still, selling off the family’s treasures was not a pleasant thought.
She would turn to Aunt Viv for help if it came to that. But her aunt’s money was one thing Alex preferred to keep as a last resort. Aunt Viv would never lie to Alex’s mother, and Alex hated to put her in a position where she might need to do so. Viv was well aware of Nimway’s precarious finances but said that as long as her sister didn’t ask any specific questions, she would not volunteer any information. Alex had no desire to make that relatively minor omission something much more significant. Besides, Nimway was Alex’s responsibility, and it was her job to ensure Nimway’s survival.
But Alex was going to have to do something soon. As if things weren’t already bad enough, there had been a series of unfortunate events in recent weeks. Poor Mr. Wiles had fallen off a ladder while trying to make a repair on the stable roof, and the doctor had said he should spend at least two weeks in bed. Mrs. Lamb had cut her hand and needed help in the kitchen that simply wasn’t available. So Millie was preparing most of their meals, directed by Mrs. Lamb, an arrangement neither of them was happy about. Meals at Nimway for the past few days reflected the tension in the kitchen, and even calling them acceptable was high praise.
THE LEGEND OF NIMWAY HALL: 1888 - ALEXANDRA Page 5