“I love my horse,” Primrose said as she stood by Smudge, her belongings neatly secured on the saddle.
“That is nice,” said Lilybet, looking at her in a way that told Primrose the woman was confused and a little bit concerned about her.
“I just do not particularly wish to ride her today. Yet she looks eager to get going.”
“As do the men,” Lilybet said as she swung up into her saddle.
“Very well.”
Primrose mounted and did her best to hide a wince. She was still rather new to lovemaking and her body was making it very clear that she had been too greedy last night. In truth, Bened had been very greedy and she had had no inclination to say no. Now even her thighs ached, she thought, and waved farewell to her uncle and Frederick.
Sleeping would have been wise as well, she thought as she clapped a hand over her mouth to hide a huge yawn. Bened had not allowed her to get much of that but he did not look as if he had suffered from not sleeping. Then again he had been a soldier and they could ride all night. She chuckled as she considered that thought and saw the humor of it. Shaking her head, she decided she was losing her mind.
By the time they stopped near midday to rest their horses and have a meal, Primrose was wondering if she could just tie herself to her horse and let someone lead Smudge along as she slept. The only thing keeping her awake at the moment was the mere thought of having something to eat. She was starving.
Bened frowned as he went to lift Primrose down from the back of Smudge. She was a little pale and looked exhausted. There had been a few times he had seen her shifting in her saddle and wincing a little. He felt guilty for keeping her awake most of the night but did not regret even one of the many hours he had spent making love to her. Once her desire burned away her shyness, Primrose was a passionate, eager, occasionally demanding lover.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she swayed against him, resting her forehead on his chest.
“Just tired.” She roused enough to straighten up and look around. “And hungry.”
“Bevan is already preparing the campsite and we will eat soon. Frederick packed us a feast.”
“Oh, lovely.” She slowly walked toward where Morris already had a fire going.
He had to nudge her awake to eat. Even though she seemed not to be tasting the food at all, she did eat with a steady speed and efficiency. What she needed was a full night of sleep, he decided, fighting the urge to take her to the inn in the village and tuck her up in bed. He scolded himself for being a rutting dog but he suspected he would just have to hear the words Primrose and bed in the same conversation and his desire for her would leap to life in hope.
The moment she set her plate down, her eyes closed, and Bened put his arm around her to keep her from falling over. He frowned and put his hand on her forehead just to make sure this was only exhaustion. It did not surprise him when Simeon rushed over to crouch in front of her but the angry look the man sent him did.
“Is she ill?” Simeon demanded.
Reminding himself yet again that the man was her brother and was well aware of the danger she was in, Bened answered pleasantly. “No, I think she is just tired. Riding about the countryside looking for you has not been easy for her,” he could not resist adding.
“No, it would not have been,” Simeon agreed softly and sighed. “I should have sent word to her about what I knew, or believed I knew, and where I was.”
“And have it fall straight into Augusta’s hands.”
“There is that. Maybe we should make it a short day of travel.”
“Or I could carry her up with me on Mercury.” He struggled to keep his expression one of pleasant blankness.
“If she does not wake up when we are all ready to leave, it might be a thought. But, I should do it.”
“If you wish, but Mercury is a bigger mount than yours, and built for some added weight. He can carry two more easily.”
Simeon looked at Mercury. “He is a big beast, like a plow horse.”
“Only half a plow horse and one of an old, honored breed. A very brave stallion about the size of your gelding romanced his mother. She let him live.” He almost laughed at the shock on Simeon’s face. “I named him Mercury for a reason as well so if anyone sets after us, my plow horse will leave them in the dust.”
“Truly?”
“No doubt in my mind. My father has begun breeding more like him although it can be a dangerous business. Mercury has a lot of admirers.”
“But you gelded him.”
“Had to but he bred a few before I took him and trained him. You do not really want a full stallion of that size for a riding mount, not with a stallion’s temperament.”
“Oh no, of course not. Fine then. If she is really exhausted, she will not even wake when you pick her up so then you take her up with you. If she does wake, she can ride on her own.”
An hour later, Bened mounted his horse and Bevan handed a limp Primrose up to him. He set her in front of her, almost grinning when she snuggled up against him and he got a hard glare from Simeon. It was not kind to pinch at the man who had to know what was between Bened and his sister, but Bened could not resist and the badly smothered laughter from his brother who rode at his side revealed that that sort of humor was clearly a family trait.
They rode as fast as they could without wearing down the horses. Bened understood the need to cover as much ground as possible while the weather favored them. Augusta was still out there and they all suspected that she was riding back to Willow Hill. The less time they gave her to destroy something or set up a trap the better. They also had to try to stop her efforts to be rid of anyone or anything that could be used against her. For a woman who had to be insane she was proving to be a formidable opponent.
Jenson watched his brother and his family, along with his child, ride away to stay with his wife’s brother and sighed. Now he had to warn the other servants and find a place to hide himself. But first, he thought, he was going to try to find something to help the Wootten siblings bring the woman down. He owed it to Sir Bened and Miss Primrose, who had not punished him for being with Augusta, but kindly set him free of the woman.
To his dismay his idiot employer, Rufford, found him before he could begin the search. “Jenson! Where the bloody hell have you been? I have been struggling with one of the pages here and it has been a dismal fortnight.”
Jenson winced as he looked at what the man was wearing. “Your wife demanded my services.”
“What use would that cow have for a valet?”
Jenson shrugged. “To tend her wardrobe.”
Rufford swore viciously and got himself a large snifter full of brandy, gulping some of it down as if it was cheap ale. “She too often forgets who is the man in this family. I will have a word or two about that when she returns.”
“She is returning?”
“Just got a letter from her saying she should be here in a day or two. She could not find my nephew. No idea why she went haring off to find him as she never much liked the lad. Hated that girl.”
“Miss Primrose?”
“What other girl lived here, fool? Yes, Miss Primrose. Looks like her mother.” He gulped some more brandy and gave a drunken sigh. “Lovely woman. Sweet and kind. My brother was a lucky man. My good friend Sir Edgar is heartbroken about how the girl ran away rather than wed him.”
The thought of the kind, sweet Primrose in the hands of Sir Edgar Benton made Jenson feel ill. The man might have good blood, been to all the right schools, and have a lot of money but he was scum. He shook aside that distaste and started to plot a way to get free of this man so that he could be far away when Augusta returned.
“I need something to wear to Edgar’s for tonight, Jenson. See to it.”
Gritting his teeth, Jenson set about preparing to send the fool off to his friend’s house. He worked as fast as he could, cajoling the man into his bath and ignoring his suggestions of what he thought would look best. By the time Rufford staggered
off to lose more money he did not have, Jenson was in a cold sweat but decided to hold to his plan to at least look for something the Wootten siblings could use to bring the woman down.
Jenson was pulled out of his intense study of the family ledgers when he heard a voice that made his blood run cold.
“Where is my husband?” Augusta’s sharp voice cut through the air.
As he heard some mumbled reply made by a terrified servant Jenson hurried over where he knew there was a small room behind a door hidden by the bookshelves. His heart pounded with fear as he waited for the door to slowly open but then he ducked inside and it closed behind him. Collapsing in a chair some past resident had put in so he could steal a smoke, Jenson fought to calm himself, to find that spine the girl said he needed. To his dismay the woman came into the ledger room.
“Has someone been in here?”
“Not that I am aware of, m’lady.”
Jenson recognized the voice of the housekeeper, Mrs. Jakes, and sighed when he heard the fear in the woman’s voice. Augusta terrified all of them. He held his breath to see if he could hear what answer Augusta accepted, Mrs. Jakes, or one of her own.
“Then it was probably my fool husband who does not have the sense to even hide his intrusion here. Get me some tea and a few cakes.”
“As you wish, ma’am.”
“M’lady. I will be called m’lady. Remember that.”
Jenson held back the snort of disgust he felt ready to give. That woman was not entitled to the honors of the barony but clearly planned to usurp them. The only way to do that would be to wipe out the whole family. It was diabolical but he was not truly surprised. The woman had been talking as if that was her plan for as long as he had been trapped with her.
“Oh, and Mrs. Jakes, fetch my man of business.”
Jenson sat down near the door so he could be sure to hear as much of what was about to be said as possible. Augusta was evidently so certain of victory that she was already taking over the entire household. He did not think that fool Rufford knew the extent of his wife’s thefts or her intention to grab that title for him. That meant he did not know how near he was to being killed. Augusta would not allow him to throw away the money she saw as hers. The wait was long, however, and he began to feel very tired.
The sound of a door shutting and Augusta’s sharp voice jerked Jenson out of a nap. He rubbed his eyes and settled in to see if she meant to pull poor Mister Sutton into her plots through guile or threat. Could even be through bribery, he thought, although the man would have to be a fool to think he would ever see any of the money promised.
“Mister Sutton, I have some business that needs tending to.”
“Such as what, ma’am? Do you wish some advice on investments?”
“No, I need to deal with some of the business of Willow Hill.”
“That business is the sole province of the new baron, or in a few cases, Miss Primrose. You have no authority.”
“Here is my authority. You can see right there that both Simeon and Primrose have signed allowing me to deal with matters while they are gone.”
“But, they have not even heard the will read. This is most unusual.”
“They are not certain when they can return and do not wish to leave things untended. Can you think of anything in the will that would prohibit any normal sort of business?”
It was quiet for a few minutes and Jenson decided Mister Sutton was pulling the will out of his bag and quickly reading it through. “Ah, here is one thing that severely changes how business is done here. Courtyard Manor. It goes to Master Geoffrey and thus there will be no more payments.”
“Peter gave it to Geoffrey?”
“Every inch of it. All that is asked is that he agree to continue to be one of the regular suppliers to Willow Hill. I suppose that is because the baron saw the quality of the man’s goods.”
“That loss could cost Willow Hill dearly.”
“There is still ample income, ma’am.”
“Ample, perhaps, but that is still a large bite out of the purse. Do you think Geoffrey will sell it to us?”
“No, he is quite happy there and had done well enough that he never failed or even struggled to pay the lease. There is also a list of things to be done with Miss Primrose’s dowry, the lands and the money. It is not too long now before she is five and twenty, which would be when she would be handed it all to do with as she pleases.”
“What does she get?”
Jenson listened as Sutton listed several nice little properties and an enviable purse. That was not going to please Augusta at all.
“That is ridiculous. She is the daughter of a baron, not some princess. Willow Hill cannot afford to lose so much property or such a heavy purse.”
“This is what the baron wanted for her and he was well able to afford it. So is Willow Hill.”
“This kind of thing could bankrupt the estate.”
“Nonsense. I researched it carefully and he could see that, although when it is first handed out money will be a little less for a year or two, Willow Hill will fully recover.”
“And these things cannot be argued.”
“No, ma’am, and I see no reason for it to be. There is no case for what you claim, that it will bankrupt this estate.”
“I must think on this, Mister Sutton, but we will be sure to discuss it again. Now I need some funds to deal with the cottages.”
“What is wrong with the cottages?”
“They need new paint and roofs.”
“I just rode past them and their roofs looked fine.”
“I believe the word of the people living in them should count for more than the opinion of a man who just rode by and looked at one or two.”
Jenson could almost feel Augusta’s fury and he was certain Sutton could. It did not surprise him to hear her thank him in only a few minutes and then send him on his way, asking him to tell Mrs. Jakes to send in Jim Petty. He was just wondering what he should do when she left when he heard the door open again. This time he could actually hear a booted tread cross the floor and he knew it was another of Augusta’s hirelings. He had never met a Jim Petty, though.
“I need you to take this to a man named Geoffrey and tell him he must sign it or he and his family will pay very dearly. If he still objects, come find me. I will probably be in here struggling to find a way to keep that little bitch from taking such a big bite out of Willow Hill.”
“You want that threat vague or very, very clear?”
“I want it to make him shake in his muck-covered boots.”
The moment the door shut, she cursed, fluently and profanely. “This cannot be allowed. That fool Peter wrote a will that was going to beggar me,” she complained as she paced. I cannot and will not allow it, she decided. Geoffrey would be crushed and when that was done, she would see to making Sutton pay for standing in her way with all his papers and laws. She knew he disliked her, did not respect her, and looked down his long nose at her all the time. When she ran Willow Hill, he would have to find himself a new position, or, even more to her liking, a grave.
Jenson waited and waited. Even had another little nap. Then, just as he gained the courage to see if she was gone and get himself out of the smoking room, out of Willow Hill, and even out of the parish, a soft rap came at the door. He hesitated, terrified she had figured out where he was.
“Jenson, I know you are in there. You probably have about a half hour to get away from here so you better move.”
He quickly stepped out and stared at Mrs. Jakes. “I need to warn Sutton that he is stirring up the wrong woman.”
“He knows. That boy needs to get here and take his place. He is the only one with the power and right to get the magistrate after her.”
“That boy has been running for his life as has Miss Primrose. If Augusta gets her, she will either kill the poor girl or marry her off to Sir Edgar Benton.” Jenson nodded when Mrs. Jakes looked at him in horror. “Payment for gambling debts. Augusta has blood o
n her hands. Lady Wootten and her babe and the baron. She killed them both.”
Mrs. Jakes sat down heavily in a small chair near the desk. “Are you certain?”
“I am and so are Miss Primrose and Lord Simeon. There’s just no hard proof to get her to the hangman. She has been chasing them all over the countryside and kills anyone who knows what she is up to when she has no more need of them. I only got free of her with my life because of Miss Primrose and some man helping her, a Sir Bened Vaughn. Now, before I run and hide as I was strongly advised to, I am trying to find something, just one little thing that will help them in their fight against her.”
“Not her husband, I suppose.”
“If he is not the complete ass he acts, then he is in this with her, so no. Not him. I cannot take the ledgers away for that would be noticed.” He looked over what little there was strewn on the desk. “And she did not leave behind the papers she claimed Miss Primrose and Lord Simeon signed giving her the power to do Willow Hill business. And, no, they did not sign anything. That was a lie.”
“I have no idea what to do, Jenson.”
“Do not make her angry. Want to know why I was with her? Because she threatened the lives of my brother and his family and my daughter. She has just sent a man off to do the same to Master Geoffrey because the baron left Courtyard Manor to him and she will lose the lease money. That is how she works. And she has done something somewhere that makes them believe it, or her hirelings do for they are all violent men.”
“I might have something they can use,” Mrs. Jakes said as she stood up and started out of the room.
Jenson hurried after her. She went down into the wine cellar and he frowned. As far as he knew neither Augusta nor her useless husband had ever been down here for they expected, always, to be served. Then Mrs. Jakes tugged a little book out from between two bottles, the reddish-brown leather cover elaborately carved with a butterfly.
“It is Lady Wootten’s journal. She wrote in it all the time. I had just learned to read when she died and thought it would be lovely to read her words, that it might help me deal with the grief I was struggling with. She suspected Augusta of crimes, small ones at first but then larger and increasingly evil. It began slowly, with a few writings about hurt and disappointment concerning a woman she considered a sister to her. Near the end there was fear and on the last page she had decided to tell the baron.”
If He's Noble (Wherlocke Book 7) (Paranormal Historical Romance) Page 21