"You know I have a great fondness for you, Edward," she began as he turned to face her. "As a brother you are most amiable, but I must tell you, you are a fool."
"Now what have I done to incur your displeasure?" He laughed, leading her to an ivy-covered bower and seating her at his side. "I thought I was overdue for one of your lecturestherefore, speak. I am all attention."
"I know your secret," she chided, "so don't think you hide it from me. I've seen the looks you cast in Jenny's direction when you think yourself unobserved. That being the case, I would ask, don't you think you take this championing of Estelle too far?"
"I don't know what you mean," he replied defensively, declining to meet her gaze.
"I'm quite sure that you do. Surely you realize the dangers of taking all upon yourself and how it must appear to others. Indeed, to one person in particular. I would accuse you of indifference if I didn't know the contrary."
"You don't know what you know," he responded roundly. "I owe a debt of gratitude to Estelle. One that I can never repay. I'm not responsible for what others might read into my actions."
"You care not how it must seem to Jenny?"
He looked sharply at her. "Has Jenny said anything to you?"
"No, but the child would have to be a complete idiot not to have noticed the particular attention you pay to Estelle."
"Then it is all in your imagination," he scoffed. "I know Jenny well enough to know that she can be quite forthright when the occasion arises, and I believe she would have broached the subject with you before now."
"One only has to see the hurt in her eyes," persisted Flora.
"I see no hurt," he replied defiantly. "Why should she show hurt when she has Rutledge in her toils?"
"Then you don't know!" she cried triumphantly. "I thought you must not; otherwise, why keep up this pretext of indifference? She sent Phillip Rutledge packing. He's returned to Buxton. Now what do you say to that? Do I still not know what I am at?"
For a moment he said nothing, but then, after what appeared a moment of thought, he murmured, "Gone to Buxton, has he? There are no signs of a betrothal? Hawley assured me it was all but settled."
"None whatsoever, and if Freddie's to be believed, which I do believe he is, she would be quite happy if she never set eyes on the man again."
The earl rose from his seat, his face impassive, and said in a noncommittal tone, "Come, Flora, we've our circuit to complete before we return to the others"
Flora rose and stamped her foot with frustration. "I don't see why you treat me so shabbily and act in this sly fashion," she cried, nonetheless taking his arm and falling into step beside him. "Why won't you admit your affection for Jennifer?"
"Because, my dear, there is nothing to admit," he replied with infuriating aplomb.
For as much as he had appeared to take no notice of their afternoon's conversation, over supper that evening Flora was aware that Sinclair studied Jennifer whenever he thought himself unnoticed. However, Jenny was oblivious to his scrutiny and listened intently to some story of Freddie and Perry's telling, smiling frequently at their humor. Thus, the earl was allowed his study unhindered.
Seeing the situation, when they all retired to the drawing room after supper, Flora attempted to engineer a situation where the two would be afforded private speech. However, all her efforts were frustrated by the arrival of Carlton, who made his entrance into the drawing room issuing profound apologies for the lateness of his arrival.
"I would have come earlier," he explained amid Flora's orders that a meal should be prepared for him, "but matters of business held me in Devon."
Rising, Sinclair poured him a glass of burgundy and pressed it into his hand. "There was no need for you to travel hotfoot," he said, smiling. "However, once you are refreshed, I will explain all to you"
The hour was late when Carlton finally quit the library where he'd been in discussion with the earl. Sinclair remained alone, and, taking his glass, he went to sit by the hearth, deep in thought. He wouldn't acknowledge the sense of elation he'd experienced when told of Jennifer's repudiation of Rutledge. Even to himself, he found it difficult to admit the great sense of relief Flora's words had evoked. Possibilities that had been so long held in check flooded his mind, tormenting him anew.
He dared not believe in Flora's assumption that Jenny held any affection for him other than that of a friend. He'd fought so hard to maintain his resolve that to give rein to such thoughts brought him dangerously near casting resolution to the winds. He'd loved her too long and too well not to be tempted by the thought that his regard could be returned, but still he found it difficult to reconcile himself to the rightness of attempting to unite her life with his.
Eventually the chiming of a distant clock prompted him to put aside his glass, and, forsaking his reverie, he also prepared to retire.
Collecting the oil lamp left for his use on a table at the base of the stairs, he made his way to the first-story landing and thence along the corridor toward his bedchamber. However, the sight of a light beneath Jennifer's door brought him to a halt, and he stood for several seconds fighting the impulse to knock. Suddenly, as he would have moved away, the door came wide, and Jennifer, in a satin wrap, stood before him.
"What, you could not sleep, Jen?" he asked, an unfathomable smile twisting his lips.
"It would appear no more could you," she replied, coloring at the warmth in his tone. "I thought I heard your tread on the landing. I'd assumed you to have retired some while since but was concerned that one of your terrors might come upon you again."
His eyebrows snapped together in a frown. "Did I disturb you last night?" he asked, contrition heavy in his voice. "If so, I most humbly apologize. Although they are far less frequent, I know not when I will rid myself of these nightmares."
"I came to your door, but Estelle was before me and appeared to cope quite well without my assistance. Then Perry came, and I could see you would be outnumbered and would have no need of me"
It seemed he would have given a reply but held back and instead offered in explanation, "Estelle was used to seeing my night terrors when we were in the convent. They came more frequently and were far more violent then, and she often came to my aid."
"I see," she replied in a small voice. "She's obviously more equal to the task than I"
"My dear girl, what nonsense is this?" he cried, for the moment forgetting to moderate his voice, then looking guiltily around and adding in a much quieter tone, "I know we would be flaunting the proprieties, Jen, and the hour is late, but there are matters we must discuss...."
Suddenly a door farther down the corridor opened, and Estelle stepped out, candle held high. "Is anything amiss, Edward?" she called. "Do you have need of me?"
Issuing a sound of frustration, the earl turned from Jennifer and advanced a few steps along the landing. "No, no, all is well," he assured her in hushed tones. "I but make my way to bed, and it would appear I wake the whole house in the process"
"Then I will wish you good night," whispered Estelle in return and closed her chamber door.
The earl turned once more to speak to Jennifer, but she, too, had gone. Issuing an oath, he continued on to his own room, not at all pleased with the outcome of the event.
Entering his room, he put aside the lamp and, dismissing his valet, proceeded to prepare to retire. For once he felt not the desire to retrieve the portrait. Instead, his brain was in turmoil, reliving his brief conversation with Jennifer.
It was useless denying that her words had not affected him deeply. As in common with most men, it had not crossed his mind that his actions toward Estelle could be misconstrued, for what could be more natural than a desire to come to her aid? The thought that Jennifer would see it as anything more had not even entered his head. Realizing that his motives had been so misread, he felt a strong desire to set all to rights with her. He could not bear it that she should feel that he deserted her for Estelle. He'd not been aware that he had such power over he
r as to wound her by his actions. When they had spoken in the corridor, the signs of her dejection at the thought that Estelle had replaced her in his need for care had come as quite a shock to him.
Although he lay in the vast bed, sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. Indeed, he wished Flora had never spoken.
"I think it best that I return to London," Jennifer informed Flora as they traversed the formal gardens the following morning. "I would not wish it to appear that I trespass on Edward's good nature. Freddie may stay if he wishes. I believe he's good for Perry and keeps him diverted, but ..
"I will not allow it," cried a shocked Flora. "Whatever would Edward say?"
"I believe I would be one less problem for him. He has, after all, so many other claims upon his time."
"Which you will only increase if you leave."
"Do you think so? Do you truly think so?"
"I do, and if you were to approach him on the subject, he would say exactly the same" Flora tucked her hand into Jennifer's arm and leaned confidingly toward her as they walked. "I believe I know your reason for leaving, and it is Estelle, but you must believe me when I tell you that your leaving is totally unnecessary. Why, surely you must see that there's nothing remotely loverlike between them. One only has to observe them together to realize it."
Jennifer colored and pulled slightly away so that Flora was obliged to drop her hand. "You have it completely wrong," she cried in a scoffing manner, averting her face so that her companion would not see her confusion. "You make it appear that I am resentful of their association, when I am not. I merely state the obvious, that Edward has enough concerns at the moment without the added burden of invasion."
For a moment Flora allowed her impatience to show, but to her relief, she saw Sinclair a short distance away, heading for the stables, and she hailed him. "Edward, do come here. I have need of your support in convincing Jenny that she should stay. 'Tis her wish to return to London, but I will not have it so. I need her to bear me company."
The earl came obediently to his sister's bidding, both ladies aware of the frown that creased his brow.
"What? You would desert us, Jen?" he asked earnestly, all but ignoring his sister's presence.
Seeing the situation, Flora, thinking it prudent, slipped away unnoticed, leaving the two to make what they would of the chance for conversation.
Sinclair reached out and took Jenny's hand. "I cannot order you to stay, but may I ask it of you?" he said quietly. "No, don't draw your hand away, Jen. This is how friends should greet each other, and you have avowed that we are friends."
"Yes, yes, we are friends," she replied, attempting to smile, but further words failed her.
"Was it our conversation of last evening that drives you away?" Sinclair asked solicitously, attempting to read her countenance. "For I swear to you, I would not wish it so. I cannot bear the thought that any words of mine should wound you"
"Then you must have no fears. What words could you say that would wound me?"
He held back, and it seemed he searched for words. Eventually he said, keeping close watch for her reaction, "Flora tells me that Rutledge has returned to Buxton."
"Yes," was her only reply.
"And you do not miss his going?"
"Not at all."
A long silence ensued, and once more it appeared that Sinclair had words that remained unsaid. He retained her hand in his firm clasp until, suddenly becoming aware of it, Jennifer pulled away.
"I will accompany you to the stables," she said, more for something to say to break the moment than any desire to continue her walk.
Turning, Sinclair offered his arm, and they started along the path. "I ride out to visit one of the farms," he said lightly, taking her lead and turning the conversation toward the noncommittal. "If you would like to accompany me, I will wait while you change so there will be no need for you to chase after me as you did at Ravensby."
"I did not chase after you!" she said emphatically.
A teasing light came into his eyes. "You admitted you sought me out. Now be honest, Jen-you did, did you not?"
"Edward Thurston ..
Sinclair threw back his head and laughed. "That's more like it. That's the Jen I know."
Jennifer joined in his laughter. "Yes, I'll ride out with you, Ned," she said once the laughter had died down. "It will seem quite like old times."
As she would have turned to return to Fly, he detained her. "I have a great fondness for those old times, Jenny," he said with a deal of sincerity in his voice.
"So do I," she replied before hastening away.
If it had not been for the uncertainty hovering over Perry's future, the next few days at Fly would have been idyllic, but always in the back of everyone's mind was the thought of the accusations, preventing a true enjoyment of the gathering. Carlton was often ensconced with the earl in the library, while the ladies of the party talked and walked and generally enjoyed one another's company. Perry and Freddie took the opportunity for sport and were rarely seen about the house during the day; even Caesar deserted the comforts of the hearth to bear his master company on his daily expeditions.
Perry, with the fortitude of youth, had regained some of his former spirits, Oxford and its accusations appearing a million miles away. It was then with a great jolt that he was brought back to earth when a missive arrived for the earl requesting him to accompany his brother on a visit to the Dean as soon as it was possible.
Arriving with the letter from the college was a note from Randall. He asked that his employer speak to him before his meeting with the Dean, informing him that he was to be found residing at an inn called The Star on the north road out of Oxford. He gave no indication as to what to expect, not the merest hint of his findings, and Perry thought it boded ill for his case. Surely he would have been all eagerness to put his mind at rest, if all was well.
Sinclair took a different view of the matter and assured Perry that Randall could not commit his findings to paper lest they fall before an inappropriate source. Carlton volunteered to go with them should they have need of a third party to go between Fly and Oxford at any stage. Freddie, much to his disgust, was ordered to remain at Fly to keep the ladies company and ensure that Caesar, in his eagerness, did not attempt to follow his young master.
The chaise bowled away from Fly, Sinclair and Carlton attempting to allay Perry's fears. At the house, the ladies took up their various occupations in the small salon, but their attempts at needlepoint, sketching, and reading were soon forsaken as they sat dejectedly discussing the projected meeting, not knowing when to expect the travelers to return.
The chaise with the earl's crest upon the door halted before The Star, and Sinclair stepped down. Intent on speaking to Randall alone, he had left Perry and Carlton still at breakfast at The Badger, a large inn on the outskirts of Oxford.
He eyed the building before him, looking up at its swinging sign that held a silver star, but there was nothing starlike about the inn before him. Indeed, one could scarcely qualify it by the name of inn pothouse, more like-he thought, bending his head to enter the long, squat building. Inside, the grimy ceiling appeared low, not much above head-height, and he wondered at Randall's motives for staying at such a place.
The landlady, a scrawny individual in a greasy smock, came forward at his entrance, wiping her hands on her equally dirty apron.
"I believe you've a man named Randall staying here?" said the earl, noticing with some distaste the way she scrutinized his person.
"Aye, I 'ave m'lord," she replied, continuing her bold examination. "Y'll find him at his meal in the taproom" And she pointed to a door at the side of the hallway.
Sinclair entered and immediately spied Randall sitting over the remnants of his breakfast, which he quickly pushed away as he saw his employer approach and, rising, made toward him.
"I hope I don't disturb your meal," said the earl. "Though I can't help but wonder at your motives at staying at such a place as this. Did I not p
rovide you with sufficient funds?"
"All will be explained," Randall assured him in a confiding manner. "However, I think we would be better speaking away from here. Would you be averse to taking a stroll with me, sir?"
"Not in the least," replied Sinclair, relieved to be leaving the repugnant odor that permeated the inn.
Once outside in the lane, Randall fell in beside the earl, attempting to match his stride with the length of his companion's but finding it no easy feat.
Seeing his discomfiture, Sinclair moderated his step so that his agent appeared at ease. "What is it you found so difficult to say at the inn?" he asked. "I take it from your note that you've achieved an outcome?"
"I have, my lord," Randall assured him, appearing much pleased, "and it is a most favorable one. Master Perry is quite exonerated"
The tension appeared to seep from Sinclair's frame. "I knew as much," he declared triumphantly. "Now you must explain all to me. Though I never doubted the outcome, the boy will be vastly relived to have his name cleared."
The lane led them between high hedgerows, and they appeared most secluded, the earl suggesting that they rest for a moment against a stile to make conversing easier.
"You may wonder at my sojourn at The Star," began Randall, assured of his employer's full attention, "but I assure you, sir, it was necessary, for it's within its portals that the resolution of my inquiry lies. Indeed, the information was easy enough to come by, once I became aware of the situation. As you've no doubt noticed, it's far enough away from the college to be thought not to pose a threat to the school's inhabitants. However, in this, the school authorities are sadly mistaken. Each Friday night a certain group of students leave their rooms to steal away to The Star to engage in illicit gambling...."
"Perry gambles?" interrupted the earl incredulously.
"No, sir, not Master Perry, but Compton and Jameson do"
"Then what has this to do with the disappearance of the saber?"
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