by Sarita Leone
“Let’s go, girls.”
They complied, moving toward the door without hesitation. The lightheartedness of the morning fled the moment they saw they weren’t the only ones to visit the Folly recently.
Jane locked the door. She was about to put the key back in its spot behind the fairy’s wings but thought better of it. If there was a trespasser on the property, making the accommodation open had to be a bad idea. She put the key in her pocket.
“Let’s head back now,” she said. “We shall do our reading in the flower garden beneath the oak tree.”
“I’m not sure we were wrong about the Folly, Miss Halifax,” Diana ventured as they crossed the wooden bridge over the lake. “It does look like a hiding spot, doesn’t it?”
“I wonder who’s hiding?” Amanda gave a voice to the question inside Jane’s mind.
Who, indeed? And, why?
Chapter 8
Edward plowed a hand through his hair. Damnation, even his scalp hurt. He made a mental note never to empty a brandy decanter before opening a whiskey bottle. He wasn’t a big drinker ordinarily, but after the meeting with the irresistible Miss Halifax the night before, he had been inclined to imbibe. The hope that it might dull his ardor went unrealized. This morning he had woken with a headache to accompany the passion that shot through him every time he thought of the woman.
His attraction was entirely unsuitable. He knew that. He also knew that many a peer had brought scandal to their doorstep engaging in reproachable behavior with the staff. Perhaps an equal number dallied with the servants to no one’s knowledge, but there was no telling who would be discovered, was there? And he definitely didn’t desire scandal associated with the Montgomery name.
No, Letitia was the branch of the family tree responsible for entertaining—and scandalizing—Society. Not him, thank you very much.
If there was an accounting of hangover headaches, though, he would have set tongues wagging at present.
Edward grimaced as he swallowed tepid tea. The dregs in his cup did not look appealing, but he forced himself to empty the contents. Perhaps it would alleviate the orchestra pounding inside his temples.
He shuffled papers on his blotter. Receipts from seamstresses. Invoices for yards and yards of fabric…voile, velvet, and brocade. Several itemized receipts for men’s clothing, including expensive handmade riding boots. He didn’t have to guess whose feet wore those. Bills for buttons, bows, and haberdashery items he could not pronounce but was expected to pay for.
A mound of paper, equating more money than most families spent on household expenditures in a quarter. What a colossal waste. And so very selfish.
Letitia was gone from the manor. She left without a word before the light of day, depositing the stack of bills on his desk with a short note. In essence, it said she wished him well with his foray into parenthood—in a very sarcastic manner.
Well, he didn’t care. Not about the bills, really. They would all be taken care of, and he did not intend to pay any future expenses his sister incurred. Let her grow up, finally, and sort her life out.
And the nasty leave-taking? That was more relief than anything else. At least he did not have to engage in a new round of arguments with Letitia. What he would give for a normal, loving relationship with his sister. But that was more pipe dream than anything, and silly dreams weren’t a luxury a man with three young girls to deal with could afford.
The haberdashery? Certainly affordable. Non-productive dreams? Out of the question.
He was halfway down a sheet of paper, tallying the expenditures, when a commotion rose in the hallway outside his study door. The voices were loud. Excited. Female.
His nieces. If this was the way they entered the manor, he would need to have a serious talk with Miss Halifax. They sounded like street urchins, screeching and running in the hallway.
By God, he would put a stop to this type of behavior this very minute. Edward stood, intending to head for the hallway, but before he even made it around the massive oak desk in the center of the room, the door burst open and all three girls tumbled into his presence.
He stood still, shocked into silence by the scene. To say they were excited would have been the biggest understatement ever. The trio all spoke at once, a cacophony of high-pitched babbling that was not in the least intelligible to his pain-riddled head.
Holding up a hand, he raised his voice to be heard above the clamor.
“Girls, silence please.” When they ignored him, he spoke in a louder tone, although doing so made his head pound so hard his eyes hurt. Damn whiskey. “Silence!”
Thankfully, the chatter ceased. He stared at them. They had not only stopped talking, they stopped flapping their arms about and stood stock-still. For a long moment, no one moved. No one spoke. It was, he knew, the calm before the next storm.
Which arrived exactly as he thought it might.
Miss Halifax dashed into his study with her shawl flying out behind her. She looked like a robin, blue shawl wings flapping and eyes wide. Her mouth, hardly a beak, however. It was open, though, and her lips were the same shade as her cheeks.
“Whatever are you doing running ahead of me that way?” She stopped, met his gaze, and dipped a lightning-fast curtsey. “Your Lordship, I’m so very, very sorry. I am at a loss for words to explain…”
He allowed both of them the first luxury of his day…the time to give the woman a minute to compose herself while he let his eyes take in every nuance of her lovely dishevelment. She was even prettier slightly discombobulated. A golden curl hung near her right cheek. Another trailed along her shoulder, the pin responsible for holding it lost during her dramatic entrance. It landed on the rug near her feet, but since she hadn’t realized she had lost it, he planned to enjoy the sight of her unpinned.
Imagining all of that luxurious hair cascading down her back as she stood not in her ugly dress but naked before him sent the blood rushing from his head to other parts of his anatomy. The respite from his headache was welcome. The tightening of his trousers, however, was not. Especially in the presence of so many young females.
He sat down behind his desk, pulled his chair in a bit, and left them standing in the center of the room. They had barged in, hadn’t they? There was no reason to act as if this meeting was any more than an intrusion.
Yes, he could tell himself that she was intruding all he wanted; his mind insisted that was true while his body protested.
Rubbing the spot between his eyes, he searched for words to deal with four fluttering females. Oddly, none came so he looked up at the governess and raised an eyebrow.
“Miss Halifax? Is this the manner in which you teach my nieces to behave like young ladies? If it is, I assure you we need to discuss your methods of childrearing.”
She pushed the tendril off her cheek. It fell forward again so she tucked it behind her ear.
“No, of course it isn’t, Your Lordship. I don’t advocate the girls running through the corridors. And I definitely don’t encourage them to…to…”
Her back was up, but she seemed as much at a loss for words as he felt. Good. At least they were on similar ground.
“To rush my study like a trio of galloping runaway mares?”
The girls had been quiet but giggled when he compared them to horses. He turned his attention to them, raising both eyebrows and attempting to look stern.
Perhaps he needed to practice the stern expression. Amanda ran forward, placed her tiny hands on the edge of his desk and smiled.
It was a charming gesture that turned his lips upward at the edges, despite his best intentions to the contrary.
“Uncle Edward, it isn’t Miss Halifax’s fault. We ran like horses without asking permission.” She gave him a lopsided wink. “I don’t believe she would have said yes—when that’s the case it’s always best to run first and ask later.”
He could not resist challenging the youthful wisdom.
“Really? Is that so?”
“Oh yes,�
� she answered solemnly. “It is.”
The older girls came forward but Miss Halifax remained standing further back. She had discovered her hair had come undone and was trying to fix it—very surreptitiously, and much to his amusement.
But the woman was divine. He had never been attracted to a governess before—his own had looked like a grandmother—but the interest that infused him every time he gazed upon this one was real. It ricocheted through him again, making him grateful he had chosen to sit down.
Before his imagination could get the better of him, the two older girls began to speak. Simultaneously.
He held a hand up, and they stopped.
“This had better not be an everyday occurrence, this mass stampede into my study. You are young ladies, and I expect you to act as such.”
For once, Melody didn’t appear angry. Even the dressing down didn’t dim her excitement.
She shook her head. “It isn’t, Uncle. I promise.”
“All right, then. So, what is it that has you all in this uncharacteristic dither?”
“We found someone,” Diana said.
“No,” Amanda interrupted. “We didn’t find anyone.”
“Someone’s things, then. It’s nearly the same thing,” Diana insisted. She gave her younger sister a look that would have withered a lesser child but merely had Amanda pouting.
Amanda turned to face him again. She furrowed her small brow. “We found a man’s things. He wasn’t with them, but his things were there.”
“Where?” He looked at the woman, but she never got the chance to answer. Melody did it for her so he turned his attention to the child.
“The Folly. We had a picnic at the Folly.” She spoke slowly, as if explaining herself to an idiot. It was how he suddenly felt, too. It seemed everyone knew what was going on except him.
Miss Halifax nodded when he lifted his gaze. “Yes, that’s right. We ate on the marble verandah. In the shade,” she added.
As if complexions were any concern of his…
“And?”
“Afterward we went inside.” Diana, too, acted as if he was one sandwich short of a picnic lunch. God help him, however was he to survive amidst such feminine logic? “That’s when we found—” She stopped and gave Amanda a dirty look before finishing, “an intruder’s belongings.”
“Is that true?” He directed the query to Miss Halifax.
“It is, Your Lordship. There is evidence that someone—a man, I believe—has been in the building. Recently, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
There had never been any problem with trespassers on the property. All nearby estates employed groundskeepers, the same way Montgomery Manor did. Nowhere nearby existed a place that might encourage vagrants, and they were too far from London for unsavory foot traffic.
“Yes, I am sure.” Miss Halifax met his gaze and then looked away. For the first time since the female invasion, he realized she was uneasy—more so than the children’s indelicate behavior warranted.
“We found his things, Uncle Edward.” Diana slapped a palm on the desktop. “His things. No one would go away and leave his belongings behind. Besides, they weren’t there the last time we were in the Folly.”
“When was that?”
Melody answered. “About a month ago. Three weeks, give or take. We were…”
“Hiding from the last governess,” Amanda finished. She wrinkled her nose. “Miss Blightley smelled strange. Like horseradish and…and…”
“Onions,” Diana declared.
He swallowed a chuckle. They were funny, this rowdy little group.
But he focused on the issue at hand, rather than the former governess’s unsavory scent.
“Right. Well, that is too bad for Miss—ah, whatever.”
“Blightley.” Amanda held her nose between two fingers when she spoke so the word came out rather nasally.
“Yes. Miss Blightley. So, you girls were last in the Folly before Miss Halifax’s arrival, then?”
“Yes.” Melody placed her hands on his desk and leaned closer. “There weren’t any man’s boots there then. So whomever is hiding in the Folly—spying on us, probably!—has just arrived.”
“With his knife,” added Diana.
“A knife?” Edward looked at the governess. She nodded.
“Yes. A big one.” Amanda stretched her two hands wide.
“Do you girls have any idea who would be trespassing in the Folly? Any idea at all why some man with boots and a knife would want to watch the manor? Come clean, please. I will not be angry if you are honest.”
He looked at them in turn. Each girl unflinchingly met his gaze. They assured him they did not know who might be on the grounds.
Edward gazed at Miss Halifax. “Miss Halifax? Do you have any idea who might be watching what goes on here? Any idea at all why a man would come to Montgomery Manor and spy on us?”
She placed a hand on her chest. Clutched the ends of her blue shawl tight between her fingers. Staring at the rug, she shook her head.
It wasn’t enough.
“Miss Halifax? Do you know anything about this?”
“No, Your Lordship. I don’t.” The governess raised her head, but she did not meet his gaze. She looked at the children when she answered, and he knew instinctively she was not being entirely truthful. The enchanting Miss Halifax was hiding something. But what? And, more importantly, why?
Chapter 9
“I want the grounds searched. Every shrub kicked. Each hedgerow examined. I want no stone left unturned, as the Americans are so fond of saying.”
The head gardener looked ready to bolt from the room. Edward got the feeling the man thought he was going to be sacked when he had been summoned. George’s complexion was somewhat gray, and he twirled his cap in his hands so aggressively it would be a wonder if the cap survived the meeting.
“Yes, Your Lordship. Of course, I will assemble a party and ride the perimeter. Then make our way back toward the buildings. Is that all right?”
“No, it isn’t.” Edward hated to make the man any more nervous than he obviously was, but his first duty lay with those in his care. “I want the area around the manor searched first. Then, the buildings closest to the manor. After that, ride out to the ends of my land. If nothing suspicious is found, ride back but search a second time as you return. Then, search the grounds closest to the manor again. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Lordship. I understand.” George cleared his throat, a raspy sound that reminded Edward of tumblers inside a lock creaking free. “May I ask…do you know who we are searching for?”
“An intruder. We will discover his identity as well as the reason for his trespass when we catch him.” He paused, knocking a knuckle against his desktop. “And we will catch the scoundrel.”
“Of course, Your Lordship. This morning, perhaps.” He hesitated. “Shall I begin assembling the men?”
“Yes. The sooner we start, the sooner we get to the bottom of this.”
George dipped his head as he turned. He practically ran from the room, squashing the ill-used hat on his head before he reached the door.
It must be nice to have one place that pulled a man as strongly as the outdoors did George. Edward wasn’t that comfortable anywhere, really. The Manor had been home when he was very young, but that was eons ago, long before he had been packed off to boarding school. He spent most of his time at the London home now, that is when he wasn’t abroad, but that place felt more like a temporary perch rather than a real nest. Truthfully, he wasn’t completely at ease anywhere, but he was most content on a horse. Traveling between places, having a destination as well as a departure point…now that made sense to him.
He wished he didn’t have an appointment with the solicitor in an hour. He hated having to wait to join the search, but business details pressed. Besides, staying in with the women added a layer of protection which wasn’t a bad thing. He would see they were settled and secure before joining the riding party.
<
br /> Securing women, especially young women, wasn’t a skill he had cultivated. Squiring them about at house parties? Strolling the rooms at Almack’s? Waltzing without damaging dainty toes? Yes, yes and yes. They were areas of excellence, but making women feel safe under siege? Not a strong point.
To that end, he glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel. Plenty of time to reassure the females before the legal meeting. Then, he would be free to ride as soon as the last cheque was signed.
****
Jane rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. Sleep had been an elusive bedfellow. She had spent most of the night staring out the window at the stars, something she ordinarily enjoyed, but last night between Orion’s belt and sword she had seen only danger. None of the soothing images she typically imagined when she gazed toward the heavens came to mind. All thoughts were of pursuit and peril.
She was worn out.
But the girls seemed to thrive on the excitement. They had talked of little else since rising. It made getting them to do their lessons a breeze. She simply said that there would be no further discussion of the interloper until every mathematical equation was solved, all French verbs were conjugated properly, and they each knew where India’s capital was located. School time went better than it had any other morning.
That was, at least, one good thing to come of being tracked.
Jane had no illusion the man surveying the house from the Folly was watching her. She knew it would happen, eventually. She could not hide forever, but really, she thought she would have been able to conceal herself for more than this short time.
She looked at the girls engaged in their needlework. Embroidery wasn’t a strength for any of them, but judging by the tiny blood spots on the edges of their linen they were determined to master the skill. It was a wonder that they had as much knowledge as they did, considering the bouncing about from governess to governess they had endured.
Unfortunately they were about to be bounced again. Jane had gone from fearing she would be dismissed to laboring over how to leave in a matter of hours. She didn’t know where she was going, but she couldn’t stay at Montgomery Manor.