by Cheryl Holt
They entered the office, and John stood at his desk, and for a moment, he was flummoxed. It had been tidied and polished, cleaned and straightened too. Obviously, Winnie had been busy again.
There was a chair behind the desk, but he didn’t sit in it. He thought the situation called for authority and intimidation. Bobby wasn’t the sort who could be intimidated, but pathetic Huntly was a trembling wreck.
They were side by side, the dog next to Bobby and ready to defend him from the least little threat. The animal had picked an excellent master. Bobby looked like a damned prince, and Huntly looked like a frog that no princess would ever kiss into a more viable condition.
“What is this about?” he asked them.
They shuffled their feet, then Bobby said, “Huntly was bothering my sister.”
“How was he bothering her?” John inquired.
“He grabbed her arm so hard she has bruises from his fingers. I told him to stop, and he wouldn’t, so I hit him.”
John shifted his irate gaze to Huntly. “Is this true, Huntly?”
“I grabbed her,” he sullenly admitted, “but I didn’t hurt her.”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “She specifically said, You’re hurting my arm. Which part of that didn’t you understand?”
John asked Huntly, “Why would you grab her?”
“She never obeys me.” Huntly offered the comment as if it was a perfectly logical explanation.
“Why should she?” John inquired. “Are you in charge of her?”
“Not officially,” Huntly replied, “but I tell the other children what to do. It’s always been that way, but Jane never listens to me. It’s frustrating.”
Bobby seemed to pity Huntly, and he appeared ashamed as he said, “I apologize again, Lord John. I’m older than Huntly, and I’m much more…well…I shouldn’t have punched him, but he can’t hurt Jane. She’s been hurt enough for one lifetime.”
It was a dramatic statement that made John eager to chat with Bobby for hours, to probe for details about him, Jane, and Winnie. What had their experience at Benton been like? How would he depict his relationship with the eminent Prescott family? What was it like to be the bastard son of an earl?
It couldn’t be all that grand. After all, he’d supposedly been evicted by his relatives and tossed out to fend for himself. If Winnie hadn’t helped him, what would have happened to him and Jane?
John hadn’t heard back from the query he’d sent to Benton, but he couldn’t deduce why he was dithering over it. He’d discovered quite a lot about Winnie, and there wasn’t any facet of her character to indicate she was lying.
“Here’s what I’ve decided.” John glared at Huntly. “You don’t realize this, Huntly, so let me be very clear. You can’t physically bully a girl. Ever.”
“Even if she doesn’t listen?”
“Yes, even if she doesn’t listen. You simply have to put up with it.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Huntly said.
“You have to learn how,” John sternly responded, “for if you harass her again, I’m sure Bobby will pummel you again. Is that what you want?”
Huntly glanced nervously at Bobby and asked, “Can you punish him for assaulting me, so he’ll be too afraid to pummel me?”
“No. You have to mind your own business. Bobby will watch over his sister. Not you.” John nodded, considering the matter settled. “Now shake hands, and this incident is over. There’s not to be any bickering in the future.”
“I won’t quarrel with him. I swear to you.” Bobby turned to Huntly, and he was very gracious. “I’ve apologized to Lord John, Huntly, and I apologize to you. I’m sorry I hit you.”
Huntly was surprised. “Oh. It’s all right.”
“I won’t do it again, but you must promise to leave Jane alone. I’m very protective of her.”
“I’ll try to behave,” Huntly said, “and I’m sorry too.”
They shook hands as John had commanded, and he gestured to the door. “Huntly, you will rest in your room for the remainder of the afternoon. Your bruises must be very sore, and you should take a nap.”
“What if my mother—I mean Mistress Dunn—won’t permit me to take a nap? She doesn’t like me to be idle.”
“Tell her I ordered it.”
Huntly actually smiled. “May I read a book while I’m in bed? I’m never allowed.”
“You may read ten books if you wish.”
Huntly trudged out. He was such a homely, dismal child, and John wondered if he shouldn’t send him away to school, if it might not mature him a bit, but there were many boys like Bobby at school. Huntly would likely be battered by his classmates all the time. It was probably better to keep him at Dunworthy.
Once he left, Bobby stared up at John, his expression cool and unflappable. “I’m ready for my punishment, Lord John. What will it be?”
John scoffed. “I’m not going to punish you.”
“You’re not?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care about boys fighting.”
On being apprised of John’s verdict, Bobby’s shoulders drooped, and suddenly, he didn’t appear quite so tough or brave. He looked like a twelve-year-old who’d been quietly terrified, but who’d hidden it well, and John was even more impressed by him.
“If you don’t intend to punish me,” Bobby said, “you won’t penalize Jane or Miss Watson, will you?”
“No. If I won’t punish a boy, I certainly won’t punish a girl.”
“I’m glad. Will that be all, sir?”
“I hate being dragged into petty squabbles, so don’t ever punch Huntly again.”
“I won’t, and I shouldn’t have on this occasion, but no one gets to hurt Jane or Miss Watson. The three of us have had some trying months. And Miss Watson isn’t very good at managing her own affairs. I have to watch over her especially or we’d be in constant jams.”
John was humored by Bobby’s view of her. “Miss Watson isn’t competent? I’d describe her as proficient at every task.”
“She grew up in a very different world, sir. She was rich, and her father spoiled her. It’s hard for her to be out on her own. She never had to learn any difficult lessons, and she makes mistakes because she doesn’t see hazards approaching. I see them for her, and I shove her out of the way.”
John chuckled, and they shared a very male conspiratorial grin.
“Is Jane my niece?” he asked. “Is Miss Watson telling me the truth about her?”
At his disparaging Winnie’s veracity, Bobby was incensed. “Of course Miss Watson is telling the truth. She couldn’t lie if her life depended on it.”
Bobby’s indignation was genuine. John was sure of it, and with his burgeoning infatuation for Winnie, it was a dangerous discovery. Winnie had no ulterior motive, and Jane was his niece. It guaranteed he should allow them to stay, but after his escapade with Winnie in the grotto, he didn’t think she was safe around him.
“How long have you been acquainted with Miss Watson?”
“She’s been our governess for three years. She lived with us in our cottage at Benton.”
“Why were the three of you kicked out? What changed?”
“My father passed away, and his wife, Barbara Prescott, never liked us. She’d never been happy that my father had us residing at the estate. After he died, there was no one to protect us.”
“Ah…I get it now.”
“I don’t have any kin, so I had nowhere to go, but Jane had you, so we pinned our hopes on you. Miss Watson wrote you. Why didn’t you answer?”
“I believe I’ve mentioned before that I didn’t receive any letters.”
“So you claimed.”
There was a tone of accusation in his voice, and John cautioned, “Don’t impugn my integrity, Bobby.”
“Have you investigated as to why you didn’t receive them? Who might hide the fact that we were begging to come?”
“I haven’t invest
igated, but I probably should.”
John hadn’t pondered the letters. Who would have conveniently neglected to notify him? Melvina? But why would she conceal the information? His sister’s fall from grace was a juicy story. Wouldn’t Melvina have been fascinated and have spread the gossip far and wide?
He definitely had to have a long talk with her.
“I regret that I upset you with my juvenile conduct,” Bobby said, “so I’d like to make it up to you. I was wondering if there’s a job or service I could perform for you so I could begin earning my keep. I’ve been behaving as if I’m too grand to pitch in, but it’s recently occurred to me that I can’t act so haughty and superior anymore.”
John scrutinized Bobby, thinking how extraordinary he was, how he could be trained, taught, and trusted with secrets. In light of John’s smuggling, he was always on the lookout for capable helpers, but it was risky to search outside the family.
He could never be certain of a fellow’s loyalty, but he thought Bobby—if he was treated with the respect he deserved—might be steadfast forever.
“I might have a job for you,” he said.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I pray it’s not fishing.”
John laughed. “No, it’s not fishing, but I have to consider before I ask you. You’d have to pledge yourself to me. You’d have to swear fealty—in the Dunn manner.”
“I would have to consider too, sir. I’m not positive I could pledge myself. You’d need me to prove I’m worth it, but I’d need you to prove the same. I haven’t decided what sort of man you’ll turn out to be.”
“That’s a very wise assessment, young Bobby, and it encourages me to suppose you’re precisely who I require.” He waved to the door. “We’ll speak about this later, after I’ve had more opportunity to reflect.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to punish me? Even a little? It would tamp down Mistress Dunn’s harping.”
“If anyone inquires, you have my permission to fib and complain that I took a switch to you and whacked you three times.”
“I shall stand through supper and pretend that I can’t sit down because my bottom aches.”
“I like your style, Bobby. I like it very much. You can go. We’re finished.”
They shared another conspiratorial grin, then Bobby started out, his dog trailing after him like an alert sentinel.
“Bobby?”
Bobby glanced back. “Yes?”
“What’s your dog’s name?”
“Rex.”
“Is it true about him? He travelled from Benton?”
“Yes, we had to leave him behind, but he was so determined to accompany us that we locked him in a shed so he wouldn’t follow. Apparently, when he was freed, he chased after us.”
“It sounds as if he’s a good dog.”
“He’s a very, very good dog.”
Rex peered over at John and seemed to say, And Bobby is a very, very good boy!
Bobby left, Rex too, and John plopped down in his chair.
It appeared that John had a niece, so Winnie, Bobby, and Jane were staying. How could he toss any of them out? With how enamored he was of Winnie, why would he want to?
For months, he’d been bored out of his mind, hating Dunworthy and ruing his fate. Then Winnie had shown up and forced herself into his world. He was glad she had, just as he was glad to have Bobby and Jane on the premises. Who wouldn’t enjoy having such marvelous, striking children in residence?
But where would all of it lead? Where would it end for him?
Nowhere he should be; he was convinced of it. At the moment, he didn’t care. He was simply eager to figure out how soon he could conspire to have Winnie all to himself again. How difficult would it be to arrange a rendezvous?
CHAPTER EIGHT
John looked both directions down the dark hall, then he slipped into Winnie’s bedchamber without knocking. He’d committed many stupid acts in his life, but this was probably the stupidest yet.
He’d been determined to chat with her all day, but in the castle, privacy was nearly impossible. She’d been housed at the end of a deserted wing that was rarely opened. Bobby and Jane had been moved to their own rooms, so she had the place to herself. It was late, and she’d be alone.
The space was small and sparsely furnished, the kind of spot where a governess or unimportant guest might reside, and it occurred to him that she deserved better. The children too. He ought to talk to Melvina about providing nicer quarters to them, but it would stir a hornet’s nest he wasn’t eager to foment.
Winnie was seated on a stool, ready for bed and wearing just a nightgown and robe. Her beautiful hair was down, and she was brushing it.
On hearing the door open, she scowled and glanced around, and when she saw him, she blanched with surprise—or maybe alarm. She tossed down her brush, her exasperation clear.
“John Dunn!” she scolded. “Why are you sneaking in?”
“I want to talk to you without the whole castle listening to my every word.”
“Well, you can’t talk to me in here. My behavior last night may have led you to believe I’m a tad debauched, but I can assure you I’m not.”
“I know.”
“You have to leave.”
“I don’t think I will.”
He made himself at home—it was his castle after all—by snooping in her possessions. There were hooks on the wall, gowns and other items draped over them. He riffled through them, assessing color and fabric. The shades were dull, the styles conservative and designed to cover every bit of skin.
If she’d belonged to him, he’d have purchased a new wardrobe for her. He’d have insisted on shortened sleeves, scooped necklines, and varying hues of blue that would bring out the blond of her hair and the sapphire of her eyes.
He went to her dresser and started examining her stockings and undergarments. His pawing in her more personal attire irked her to her limit.
She leapt up and yanked him away.
“Stop it,” she said as she slammed the drawer shut. “You’re being a nuisance.”
“I can’t help myself. I’m fascinated by you.”
“You’re not fascinated, and even if you were, it doesn’t give you the right to inspect my clothes.”
“This room is tiny and drab. Would you like to have a different one?”
“No, this one is fine. It’s quiet and out of the way. I’m happy where I am.”
“But I am not happy to have you wallowing in shoddy accommodations, and my wishes are paramount.”
He lay down on her bed and stretched out. It was narrow and firm as a torturer’s rack, and he thought—if he did naught else for her—he’d have the mattress re-stuffed so it was more comfortable.
“You can’t be in my bed!” she complained.
“Since I already am, I must declare your comment to be extremely silly.”
“I’m not playing games with you. Get out of here.”
She grabbed his wrist, supposing she could drag him to his feet, but he turned the tables on her. With a quick jerk, he tugged her down next to him. In an instant, she was stretched out too, their bodies pressed together.
She was so astonished that, for once, he’d rendered her speechless, so he had the perfect opportunity to roll on top of her and kiss her senseless. She hesitated, then joined in with an incredible amount of relish. Her heightened fondness verified that she liked him much more than she should, and his male vanity flared.
Of course she should like him. What woman didn’t? But she didn’t realize she should be wary of him. While he could be decent and honorable when he chose, for the moment, he was focused on his finances and restoring his property to a stable condition. Every other thing was irrelevant to that difficult goal.
“What a terrible day,” he said as he drew away.
“I agree.”
“I was anxious to spend some time with you, but I couldn’t figure out how w
ithout causing an enormous ruckus.”
“This castle is a monstrosity. You’re out of the army and home for good, but will you continue to support your relatives? How can you afford to have it go on like this?”
“It’s tradition and custom. Those are hard to break. My plan is to simply generate more income. Then it’s not such a fiscal burden.”
“How will you earn money?” she asked. “There doesn’t seem to be much commerce here except fishing.”
“That’s a lucrative trade,” he claimed, “and I have some other ideas in the works.”
“What ideas?”
He wasn’t about to mention smuggling or other illegal ventures, for he was sure she’d disapprove, and he couldn’t imagine how she’d react.
He waved away her query. “I have some irons in the fire. They wouldn’t interest you.”
“Did you really take a switch to Bobby?”
“He admitted it at supper, didn’t he?”
She studied him, then scoffed. “Should I believe you or not?”
“He’s quite a boy. Were you acquainted with his father, the exalted Lord Benton?”
“Oh, yes.”
“What was your opinion of him?”
“He was a frivolous, pompous ass.”
“You’ve described ninety-nine percent of the aristocrats in England.”
“You’re correct, I have.” She chuckled. “Now I can’t loaf with you like this. Will you let me up?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“I will if you call me John.”
“All right, John, will you let me up?”
“No.”
“You beast! I should have known not to trust you.”
He shifted off her, and the minute he moved away, she tried to slither off the mattress. He draped an arm over her waist and a leg over her thigh to keep her where she was.
“I’ve reached a verdict about Jane,” he said. “It’s obvious she’s my niece.”
“What happened to persuade you? Have you received a reply from Benton?”
“No. Bobby merely told me you couldn’t lie if your life depended on it.”
“So a twelve-year-old child could convince you of my veracity, but I couldn’t?”