Aside from offering her an opportunity to speak to Mr. Jones, there might not be many more occasions to play billiards. She wanted to enjoy every spare moment with the countess, Susie, and Phillip Jones.
With that in mind, she allowed Susie to help her put on a simple gown. She wrapped a warm shawl overtop and laced her slippers. By the time she finished dressing, her mood had improved considerably. With Earnest by their side, she and Susie ran along the corridor and curved stairs, swallowing their laughter.
“There you are,” Lady Terrance said as they entered.
The kitchen had already been raided. The side table lay heavy with platters filled with roast meat and cheese tarts.
“Good evening, your ladyship.” Belle curtsied.
“Did you have a pleasant time with the Parkers?”
“A most delightful evening. They are very good folk.”
“Rufus was out for dinner as well,” Lady Terrance said.
Susie took her turn. She struck her cue ball. With uncanny accuracy, she potted the other two balls. She softly crowed her delight and held out a hand to collect her winnings.
While the countess took her turn, Phillip Jones came to stand beside Belle. “Dashed mean spirited of Rufus not to take me with him,” he said. “Not a sociable cousin, these days. Do you know where he took himself off to?”
Thankfully, before Belle could answer, the countess spoke. “He has kept to himself much of late. I worry he has not dealt adequately with his father’s passing. Does he speak to you about the matter, Phillip?”
“No, Aunt. Rufus rarely confides in anyone about matters close to his heart. A lonely existence, being the earl. Glad the burden is not mine.”
The game continued, and coins exchanged hands. As the night wore on, Susie showed her color as a true gamester. Each time she won, she mimicked clapping and would count her winnings, then pile the growing stack of bronze coins on the mantle.
Belle laughed at her antics. Susie seemed happier. It was due to the increased time she spent in company. Living solely among plants, although most peaceful, had dampened her lively spirit.
Then it was Belle’s turn, and as she took her place, she said, “Mrs. Parker mentioned the amusements that existed in Terrance Village once.”
“We did have some good times,” the countess said with a reminiscent smile.
“Oh, the parties we held at Clearview,” Susie said. “Of course, I was too young to join in. I strayed no further down than the first five steps. I remember peeking through the railings to see the ladies in pretty gowns, the handsome men.”
“When you come to London,” Mr. Jones said, “you shall no longer have to watch from upstairs. You will wear the prettiest dress and dance with the handsomest men.”
The countess took up the billiard cue. Since Susie was busy counting her coins, Belle had another moment alone with Mr. Jones.
“Sir,” she said in a soft voice, “while you were in the village the other day, did you hear of a murder?”
He gave her a side-glance. Although his manner was no different from his normal ennui, Belle sensed keen interest behind his bland features. He knew something of the crime.
“A most tiring affair,” he said. “How did you hear of the matter, Lady Belle?”
She shrugged. “Gossip is everywhere. Did Lord Terrance know the victim, speak with him that day?”
Though he had not moved a muscle, his tension built. Her questions upset him. How intriguing.
“He was with the man earlier that morning.”
“Ahh,” Belle said, pleased. This is why I connected Lord Terrance to the murdered man, not because he had harmed him.
“Would you enlighten me about a matter in return?” He matched her soft voice.
“I will gladly try.”
“What attracts you to the upper reaches of Clearview?”
Belle took a moment to breathe before she responded. “How is it you know I go there, sir?”
“That does not answer the question.”
She remained silent, wondering how best to respond. “Your cousin has forbidden me to speak of the matter to his family.”
“He has confided in you?” he asked, interest caught.
“On the contrary. You were there when he made the stricture. The day I arrived, he said I was not to speak to anyone about ghosts and such like while I remain under his roof.”
“Ahh, you speak of that.” His gaze returned to the game.
“If not that, what did you think he might have confided in me about?”
He shrugged. “My cousin seems distracted of late. I had noticed that he is unhappy that the villagers are frightened of him. Has he mentioned the matter to you?”
Belle cringed. So, Lord Terrance had taken his nickname to heart.
“Something else troubles him, too,” Phillip said before she could reply to his earlier question. “I wonder what it could be.”
“Why do you not ask him?” Belle said.
“If he wished to confide in me, I am sure he would. I have discovered that when people do not like to be intruded upon, they resent it if you press the matter.”
Deep despair emanated from him, sweeping past her in a blast of sorrow and evoking her vision. It flared, showing her an unfamiliar drawing room, where a woman with golden ringlets cried, a heartbreaking sound. As quickly as the image formed, it was squashed. Mr. Jones had himself back under control and turned his bland smile in her direction. “Also it is too much effort, do you not think? To care about other people’s worries?”
“True,” Belle said, but she was reeling from that last vision. The blond-haired woman had seemed so unhappy, as if she were trapped in a never-ending spell of utter despair. Belle’s body was heavy with her grief, and her curiosity about Phillip Jones and his relationship to this woman spiked. Had he played a part in that woman’s anguish? She suspected so, and, therefore, could not let the matter simply drop. “I am often concerned about those I love.”
“What do you do in those circumstances?”
This was a heartfelt question, so she took her time to give a proper answer. “Offering to help, sir, is sometimes worth the risk of rejection and the pain that follows.”
“If help is refused, or unwanted?”
“Then one must wait until it is.”
He nodded. “For one so young, Lady Belle, you are wise.”
“It is easier to give advice,” she said with a jovial smile, “than to take it.”
“And what advice have you not taken?”
“That might have to wait for another night. Speaking of troubles, however, I wondered what troubled the late Lord Terrance before he was killed in that accident in London?”
This time Mr. Jones did not respond. He closed and tucked his emotions inside him as tightly as a baby is bundled on a cold winter day.
“I am sorry if my question upset you, sir,” she said. “I did not mean to offend.”
He shook a careless hand. “No offense taken. But it does make me curious as to why you asked it.”
She could not speak about the ghost or her suspicions about his murder. So, how to explain her interest? “Oft times, after a sudden death, matters are left unfinished.”
“Yes, but why do you worry about such things?”
“You said that you were interested in what troubled your cousin. It could be his father’s unfinished business.”
“Yes, I see your point. You would make an excellent Bow Street Runner, Lady Belle. They, too, have an uncanny ability for uncovering hidden motivations.”
“I shall take that as a compliment. But you have not answered my question.”
“No, I have not.”
Susie left her coins on the mantle and came to stand beside them. “What do you two whisper about? Mothe
r said not to bother you, but I feel left out.”
“Nothing of particular note,” Mr. Jones said. “We merely passed the time while we waited for you to finish calculating your vast fortune. So, Suz, are you excited about the trip to London? Do you intend to fleece your friends in Town, as you have fleeced us tonight?”
She laughed at his teasing. “Actually, I am a little nervous about the entire sojourn,” she said in a quiet voice. “What if I say the wrong thing or step on someone’s toes? I am glad you will be with me, Belle. I would not have the courage to attend otherwise.”
Susie’s comments startled her. All this while Belle had been concerned about how to deal with Lord Terrance’s proximity if she went. Not once had she considered how Susie might need her in London.
“It is merely a matter of practice,” Mr. Jones said. “Once you have attended one or two events, it all becomes a bore.” He yawned behind his hand.
“You say that because you have been to hundreds,” Susie said in a resentful tone.
“Now, see here, young lady,” he said in mock affront. “I am not that aged.”
“Phillip is right.” Lady Terrance rested the cue on the table and faced them. “What you need is confidence, Susie, and that comes from experience. And what better place to obtain such an experience than right here at Clearview? We should hold a ball here, a Christmas Ball.”
“But Mother, we are still in mourning.”
“Your father, bless his soul, passed away over six months ago,” her mother said. “I must stay in half colors, but you are permitted to wear something cheerful and bright.”
“A ball at Clearview?” Mr. Jones said. “Whom would we invite?”
“There are plenty of gentry nearby,” Susie said. “Since father’s death, we have received cards aplenty from well-wishers in the area.”
“It is too bad we cannot involve the locals,” Belle said. “When I visited Mrs. Parker tonight, she did not even intend to decorate her home. She said the villagers are low in spirit.”
The moment the words left her lips, she regretted them, for the countess looked sad. Even Susie seemed despondent.
“I am sorry,” Belle said. “I did not mean to upset anyone. I am sure the villagers celebrate in their own fashion.”
“They mourn the passing of Mr. Darby.” The countess walked away to stare out the balcony doors into the dark night.
That was the man whom Mrs. Parker said had died in London. About the same time as the late Lord Terrance. Belle did not believe in coincidences. Oft times, her talent worked in mysterious ways, connecting dots that at first glance did not line up.
“I had heard that Mr. Darby was your particular friend, Aunt,” Mr. Jones said. “My condolences. I thought it most curious that both he and uncle died within a day of each other.”
Belle approached the countess. “That must have been difficult, losing both your husband and a friend.”
“I am all right now,” the older woman said. “I have mourned both. It is time we all moved past these sad events.” She turned back to the room, and her shoulders stiffened. “I have made a decision.”
They all waited expectantly.
“It is time to look to the future,” she announced. “The best way to do that is to celebrate the life we still possess. We will indeed hold our Christmas Ball, and, along with the local gentry, we shall invite the villagers.”
Susie’s mouth formed an ‘O.’
Mr. Jones’s smile spread across his face in a slow wave. “Aunt, you are a genius.”
“Convincing your son to hold a ball may not be easy,” Belle said. She knew instinctively that somehow Lord Terrance would find a way to blame her for this expanded ball. “He is adamant that you not be disturbed so soon after your husband’s death.”
“Oh, Mama, will Rufus put a spoke in it?”
“He seems to have softened of late.” Her mother’s gaze rested with unsettling intensity on Belle. “Put to him in the right manner, I do not see why he should object.”
“Pray, what do you suggest is the right manner?” Belle was at a complete loss on how they could convince his lordship to go along with this mad plan.
Her ladyship squeezed Belle’s shoulder. “I am sure you will think of something, dear.”
Belle was not as confident. Every encounter with Lord Terrance seemed to end with the tables turned on her, so she was doubtful she could ensure a successful outcome for this latest gambit. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. At least this time, there was unlikely to be any kissing involved. Belle was not entirely pleased about that, for a tiny traitorous part of her wished he would turn the tables on her once more and steal another passionate kiss.
Chapter Eleven
Although she had a late billiards night, Belle woke early the next morning. While a housemaid cleaned the cage, with Lady Sefton perched on Belle’s gloved arm, she fed the bird.
The owlet’s bandages should be ready to come off within the next week, and then the owl would need a larger area to practice flight. With a gentle touch, Belle stroked the owl’s good wing. She would miss Lady Sefton when the time came to set her free.
With mysterious round eyes, the owl gazed at her as if in complete agreement with that sentiment. However, all contact between tame and wild things could only be fleeting.
Once the cage looked and smelled fresh, Belle sent Earnest down to the kitchen with the housemaid for his breakfast and settled Lady Sefton onto a clean perch and shut the cage door.
She then washed her hands in the basin her maid held out, but Belle’s thoughts were on the task Lady Terrance had given her. She would need reinforcement, so she requested the morning dress made in a military style. It had a rich green braid across the front that was a shade darker than the dress and sported an embroidered epaulet and wristband. Over it she wore a smart white jacket and was ready to do battle.
On her trip downstairs, something else nagged. Mr. Jones had not answered her questions about how he knew she had been in the upper reaches of Clearview or what had troubled the late Lord Terrance. Speaking with Mr. Jones was as fruitful as conversing with the ghost, though more entertaining.
She liked Phillip Jones and instinctively wanted to trust him. Still, much about the man remained a mystery.
Earnest bounded over to her after his meal, and she gave him his homemade ball—tightly rolled piece of cloth tied with bright fluttering ribbons. The hound held his toy between his strong jaws as proudly as if he carried a standard into war. Appropriate, since it was time for them to face Lord Terrance and put her plan to talk him into a Christmas ball into effect.
IN THE BREAKFAST parlor, Rufus glanced up as the door opened. Finally, someone else to keep him company besides his dour aunt. To his deep pleasure, Belle strode in with Earnest at her heels. The hound carried a fanciful ball and looked as pleased as his mistress, who looked enchanting in a dress that reminded him of the cavalry.
Rufus stood. She glanced at him, then at his aunt, and back to him. A cheerful smile flashed across her face, and he wished he had the right to greet the sight with a kiss. One day soon, he promised himself, as soon as I have caught my father’s murderer.
“Good morning, my lord.” She curtsied. “Mrs. Jones.”
“Come, have a seat.” He held out a chair beside his.
Before Belle could accede, his aunt said, “I believe she should sit by me, Terrance. It would be unseemly to have her so close to yourself.” She snapped her fingers at a footman to indicate he should pull out a chair beside her.
The servant’s gaze skittered between Mrs. Jones and his master while Lady Belle had paused as if to consider the two offers.
“Sit where you please.” Rufus released the chair and returned to his seat. What did he care where she sat? Let her bow to convention. He had eaten alone for years. He could not ima
gine why he thought that state of affairs would change just because he was now in love.
From the corner of his eye, he caught the footman sending Lady Belle a pleading glance. Fool. He should know that a woman could never solve a man’s problems.
She walked to the side table, and the footman and the dog followed. She pointed to delicacies, and the servant dutifully filled her plate. Once finished, she made a direct line to the table’s center and sat in the chair the footman drew out.
Rufus had to admire her Solomon’s choice. The lady had a mind of her own. He liked that. If she had chosen to sit beside him, he might not have held her in as high esteem.
“Lovely morning,” she said to both him and his aunt.
His aunt greeted Belle’s comment with a muffled, “Hmph.” Obviously, Henrietta Jones did not care for independence. Her loss.
“I had a restless night, last night,” Mrs. Jones said. “I heard all manner of odd noises coming from upstairs. On waking, I spoke to a maid but she said none of them go up there anymore because they are afraid.”
Rufus frowned. Could Ellison have spread rumors of ghosts after he had expressively forbidden him to talk of such things? He glanced warily at Belle, but she kept her gaze trained on her plate. His shoulders dropped their tense stand, for it showed she kept to her word about not speaking about such matters.
“Have you ever heard such twiddle twaddle?” his aunt said, with a raised neck and eyebrow. “The servants are probably too lazy to go up there to clean and have made up stories of strange goings-on. No wonder Constance is upset. She is not made of my steady constitution. The maid even said she had heard furniture moving about up there despite no one being assigned to work on the third floor. You should have a word with them, Terrance.”
“I will, Aunt,” he said, with grim determination.
“I had a lovely evening with the Parkers yesterday,” Belle said, in a jovial voice. “They are a local family.”
“Are they of our society?” Mrs. Jones asked.
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