“No, Harry. I can’t allow it.”
“I’m probably safer with you than when I’m alone,” she said trying another tack.
“Alone?” He gripped her arms. “Dash it, you wouldn’t wander about alone at night would you, Harry?”
“I might,” she said extracting herself from his disturbing hold. “I’m getting the hang of it. I might discover something by myself.”
He shook his head. “You’re a minx. I can see I shall have to agree, just to keep you safe.”
“It’s settled then,” Harriett said quickly, before he changed his mind.
“Tomorrow night, then? We’ll take a stroll in the gardens, if the night is clear. I’ll be armed, no need to feel frightened.”
Pleasure threaded through her at the prospect of another night in Gerard’s company. “Eleven o’clock?”
“I’ll meet you at the rose arbor, unless it rains. Wear something more sensible.”
“I intend to!” she said indignantly as her face heated.
“Unless you like me helping you to dress?”
She wished he wouldn’t tease her in that way. His gruff voice sent tingles racing down to her toes.
“I don’t see anyone about yet.” Harriett gazed up at the house. “The servants rise early.”
“Go!” He gave her a push. “I’ll watch until you’re inside.”
She turned away onto the path.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“You’re a brick.” His soft utterance came out of the gloom as he stepped back into the shadows.
Warmed by his praise, Harriett hurried up to the front door. Once inside the shadowy front hall, she locked the door. Startled by the grind of gears in the grandfather clock, she darted forward to replace the key.
Finger-like shadows reached across the marble floors, and every piece of furniture took on an alarming shape. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she climbed the stairs. Might some murderer lurk behind a pillar, waiting to strike her down?
Reaching her bedchamber, she hurried in and closed the door. Then with a deep, tired sigh, sank down onto the bed, only to jump up when she remembered the state of her dress. Stripping off the offending garment, she searched for her needlework box. She would have to repair the torn flounce as soon as it grew light, and then take a walk before her mother came down to breakfast. A stumble into a muddy puddle would be enough to hide tonight’s ravages from her mother’s sharp gaze. Her annoyance at Harriett’s carelessness would have to be born.
She poured water from the jug into a basin and performed her customary ritual as if retiring for the night, when only a few hours remained before she would have to rise again. With her nightdress half over her head, she paused. Gerard still hadn’t told her exactly where he’d gone when he’d ridden away from Foxworth the night Harrison was killed. He couldn’t have ridden to London and been back so soon. So where was he? She trusted him implicitly, but it disturbed her that he withheld so much from her. However, tomorrow night was another chance to learn more.
As she climbed into bed, a second thought occurred to her, and robbed her of any possibility of sleep. What if Leonora decided to marry Gerard? He would be her brother-in-law.
♥♥♥
Gerard rode back to Foxworth. Why had he let Harry get the better of him? Again! He’d been determined not to repeat this night’s debacle. If the murderer had come after them, she would have been a witness to violence. Going behind her parent’s back didn’t sit well with him, either. It must be the absolutely last time. For one thing, she was far too distracting. There was a good reason why a man’s brain performed better without a woman around. He yawned. Short of sleep, he was making poor decisions. He’d make a late start—snatch a few hours’ sleep. He hoped that Harry got some beauty sleep too. Although she hardly needed it. She really had no idea what a temptress she was with her long, slim legs, glorious hair and her inquisitive green eyes. He couldn’t help grinning despite himself.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, holding up her muddy skirts, Harriett met her mother on the stairs.
Her mother’s eyebrows rose. “Where on earth have you been?”
“I went for an early morning walk, Mama. The weather is so perfect, and the air so fresh! But I’m afraid I fell afoul of a puddle.”
“It hasn’t rained all week! You must have sought far and wide to find one!”
Harriett gave a rueful shrug. Her mother was quite right; it had taken her longer than she expected.
“Give that to the maid and hurry up and change or you will be late for breakfast.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Wait!” Her mother grabbed her arm as she walked past. “You only have your two best gowns. We didn’t pack for a long stay. You’ll have to borrow a morning gown from your sister, before she leaves for London.”
“But it will be too short.”
“It shall do for now,” her mother said crossly. “We’ll add a flounce later this afternoon, when we have time. I believe I might have something suitable in my sewing basket.” She glanced at the watch she wore on a gold chain around her neck. “I can’t help you this morning. I want to discuss the appalling state of the linens with the housekeeper.”
“Very well, Mama.”
Harriett found Leonora in her allotted bedchamber, organizing the maid’s packing. When she related their mother’s request, Leonora burst into tinkling laughter. “It will be scandalously short.”
“We’ll add a flounce.”
“One flounce? You’re so tall, Harriett. Two or three, I would have thought.”
With her tiny feet and hands, Leonora made Harriett feel like a clumsy giant. “We’re sending for more clothes. I will only need wear it for a day or two.”
Leonora turned to the maid. “Remove the French beige percale from the trunk, Sarah.”
“I look a fright in beige. Have a heart, Leonora. Might I have the pale yellow muslin?”
“But that’s a favorite of mine.”
“Don’t be mean. You know Aunt Georgina will buy you more.”
Leonora went to the mirror to tie lilac bonnet ribbons beneath her chin. “Yes, I expect she shall.” She studied herself in the glass, and tweaked a curl. “Very well. You’d best have the spencer to go with it. Take out the yellow, Sarah.”
Sarah removed the gown from its silver paper and shook it. Harriett had always liked the self-striped material and the simplicity of the style. It would suit her. Leonora usually favored more ribbons and lace. More importantly, the dress would also be easier to get in and out of in the dark, with only a few hooks to worry about. At the thought of anything so outrageous, she almost gasped aloud.
A servant arrived to remove the trunk as Leonora pulled on short lilac kid gloves. “I must go. Aunt Georgina will be waiting.”
“Have a lovely time in London.”
“I may not stay long; especially if I don’t find a suitor at Almack’s. Gerard is an earl after all. He would have to change though. He doesn’t care enough about appearances to my mind.” Leonora threw her arms around her sister and hugged her. “But I shall have a very nice time, I just know it. Poor you, stuck here in the dull countryside.”
Harriett stifled a nervous laugh and went to change into the gown. Leonora had guessed correctly, an embarrassing expanse of stockinged ankle and calf showed between her shoes and the hem.
She came down to join her mother on the carriage drive. They waved Aunt Georgina and her sister goodbye.
After the carriage disappeared from view, Mama ran her gaze over Harriett. “We must alter that dress after luncheon.”
Harriett followed her mother inside. She felt she should apologize for taking after her father in height, her mother being a small dainty woman like Leonora.
“Primrose does suit your complexion, though,” Mama said. “I confess I would never have thought of it.”
They had a visitor. Gerard strode in with her father, just as the butler announced luncheo
n was served.
Harriett pulled at her skirt, but it did little good. She caught the long look and quick grin from Gerard as they walked into the dining room.
At the dining table, her father shook out his napkin. “The constable has completed his interrogation of the staff.”
“Did you learn anything, Father?” Harriett asked, relieved that she could wear a potato sack and her father wouldn’t notice.
“No. It only confirms my opinion that the murder was random. There are several new members of the staff here, but what would their motive be?” Father drank from his wine glass. “O’Hara, of course, and the overseer, Joseph Kyle. A lad in the kitchens, what’s his name again, Gerard?”
“Young Barker. Then there’s Madoc, the under gardener. He has only been here for a few months.”
“Any one of them could be a possible suspect,” Father said. “But I haven’t detected any motive. They bore no obvious antagonism toward their employer. All of them have been well treated by all accounts.”
Harriett caught Gerard’s warning glance and bit her lip. The dining room door opened and the butler entered with another carafe of wine, followed by the servants carrying the first course, steaming bowls of onion soup.
“I am most grateful to you for remaining to help me put Pendleton in order,” Gerard said, “but really, if you feel you should be in London….”
“Nonsense, my boy,” Father said with a smile. “What do you plan to do with the place? Will you live here?”
“I prefer my home, but it will depend on my bride.”
“Your bride?” Mama exclaimed. “Are we to congratulate you, Gerard?”
“I haven’t yet asked her. She may refuse me. Not every lady wishes to spend most of the year in the depths of the country.”
“What nonsense.” Mama smiled. “You are extremely eligible.”
“No right-minded young woman would decline an offer from you,” her father agreed, seizing his spoon.
Gerard was worried Leonora wouldn’t want to live in the country, Harriett thought. It appeared she was his choice. Harriett’s stomach lurched with distress and she pushed her plate away.
“You should eat, Harriett,” her mother said. “You won’t look your best if you get too thin.”
Harriett stared down at the tablecloth, her cheeks burning. In contrast, her ankles felt bare and chilly. She wanted to run up to her room and not come out again until they left for London.
They discussed matters pertaining to the estate at length over the halibut in parsley sauce, followed by an apricot fool, sweetmeats and a dish of fruit.
“You have an excellent cook here,” Mama said, stirring her coffee. “I must say I’m surprised.”
“Harrison enjoyed his food,” Gerard said, his blue eyes sad.
“I am surprised to hear it.” Her mother’s eyebrows rose. “I thought him too ill.”
After the meal, they retired to the morning room they’d adopted, the coziest and most comfortably furnished room in the big house. While her mother conversed with her father in chairs by the fireplace, Harriett drew Gerard out of earshot to the sofa at the far end of the room. She lowered her voice. “You can’t continue to keep important information from the constable or from my father. It isn’t right.”
Gerard’s eyes narrowed. “It’s imperative, Harry.”
“You’ve put me in a very awkward position. I don’t like keeping secrets from my family. You force me to choose between you.”
Her parents paused in their conversation to glance at them.
Gerard waited until their talk resumed. “We can’t discuss it here, meet me in an hour.”
“I can’t. I have to sew a flounce on this cursed skirt, it’s Leonora’s.” Harriett frowned. “You ruined mine as you know.” She tried uselessly to tuck her legs beneath her gown.
“I did? You pulled away from me,” Gerard whispered, his gaze drifting down to her legs. “I approve of the style. Perhaps you will set a new fashion.”
“You’re teasing.” Harriett smoothed the gown over her knees, annoyed and embarrassed. “You are a most disgraceful flirt.”
“You should know that I never say anything I don’t mean.” His dark brows rose over blue, blue eyes, their expression clear and warm. A tingle swept down to her toes.
“You never think before you speak, I most certainly know that,” Harriett snapped, desperately trying for a defensive position against his overwhelming charm.
“And sometimes, even before I act.” His words and lazy grin were devastatingly attractive. Her poor, misguided heart beat harder in response.
“I won’t argue with that.”
“Come to the stables. I’ll wait for you.”
“What are you two young people talking about?” Father abandoned his position by the fireplace and walked over to them. “I must say it’s a delight to see youth and beauty, flourish amid such terrible trials.”
Mama shook out her skirts. “Come Harriett. It’s a good thing only your relative has called today. We must attend to that gown.”
It was late in the afternoon before Harriett could escape her mother. She grabbed her bonnet and walked swiftly to the stables. When she rounded the corner of the stable block, she stopped. Working with two farmhands, Gerard stood on the back of a cart, bare chested, forking hay bales onto the ground. She stood and watched the play of muscles across his tanned back and strong arms, as he bent his dark head over his work. He was so beautiful her insides melted and an almost painful yearning filled her. She turned to leave.
“Harry!” He jumped down and came after her, wiping his brow with a red handkerchief. “Where were you going?”
Harriett didn’t know where to look. She studied the sky intently as if a storm approached. Finally, forced to meet his gaze, she said, “You … you are not dressed, sir.”
He stood with legs braced and grinned. “Have you not seen a man’s chest before?”
Mute, she shook her head. She had seen her father’s naked chest and the neighbor’s young son when he played in the garden in the rain, but they didn’t count. Never before had she felt so…. It was all she could do not to reach out and trace her fingers across his broad chest.
“I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to.” He took her arm and drew her away from the gaze of the working men.
He eyed her skirt. “I see you’ve added a frill or two. I can’t say you’ve improved it. I liked it better the way it was.”
She firmed her lips. “If you behaved like a gentleman, Gerard, you wouldn’t mention it.”
His blue eyes filled with mischief. “A sweetly shaped ankle and calf, if ever I saw one. And your skin, how privileged am I to have touched your skin, Harry. It is very soft.”
Harriett sucked in her breath. “If you don’t tell me where you were the night we stayed at Foxworth, I am going straight to my father and reveal all that I know.”
Gerard’s brows snapped together. He glanced back at the men, who had almost emptied the cart. “I went to see Harrison.”
Harriett widened her eyes. “You came to Pendleton?”
“I had to take the dispatch I found in the satchel to him. I hadn’t had a chance earlier, with your arrival. I knew he’d be waiting for me.”
“Did you go inside the house?”
Gerard nodded. “There’s a secret tunnel that leads to the library, used for nefarious purposes years ago.”
“But where is the entrance?”
“You know that small copse on the east side of the house?”
“Where the temple of Venus is, on that grassy mound?”
He nodded. “There’s a tunnel under it that leads to the house.”
“That small cave? I’ve never been inside it.”
“That small cave was designed to represent Venus’s … well, never mind.”
Harriett’s cheeks warmed and she fell silent.
He gave a wry smile. “Apparently, your ancestors were into a spot of smuggling. Port and Brandy most likely.”
>
“Never mind my ancestors. Tell me what happened.”
“Harrison was to meet me in the library. When he didn’t appear, I went to his bedchamber. I found him in a chair by the fire. He was fully dressed, but dead, I’m afraid.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“Not a soul.”
She gasped. “What did you do then?”
“I undressed him. Put him in his nightshirt. Fortunately, there was very little blood.”
She put her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, don’t!”
Gerard cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want to know or not?”
“Oh, but why move poor Harrison?”
“It would have cast suspicion on Harrison to find he had dressed again in the middle of the night.”
Harriett accepted the wisdom of this. “What then did you do?”
“I made a rent in his nightshirt over the wound and tucked him into bed. And then I left.”
“But the documents, do you still have them?”
“A new contact approached me on the day of the funeral. I went to meet him before the reading of the will, and passed the information onto him. They are working from their end to trace the spy.”
“This is so extraordinary, it’s hard to believe.”
Gerard seized her shoulders and shook her gently. “We are at war. Believe it, Harry. And please remain quiet about it.”
“You don’t have to manhandle me,” she said crossly. Every time he touched her with those big capable hands of his, her nerves leapt in response. It made her want to yield to him, to melt into him. Vexed by the erratic and unpredictable emotions he produced in her; she smoothed her gown and fiddled with her bonnet strings.
“Promise?” His hand stilled hers, making her breath catch in her throat. Was he aware of how powerfully seductive he was? Did he use it to keep her on side?
“You can trust my father to be discreet.”
An Improper Earl Page 6