by Merry Farmer
“Yes.” Peter shifted to hold his hands behind his back. “After you retired last night, Albert and Domenica convinced me that it would be a good idea for them to stay for a while.”
“So that you don’t have to put up with me alone?” Mariah fought not to let her voice crack.
“No.” Peter’s voice remained even, but she could see in his eyes that her words hurt him…which only made her ache more. “I would banish the entire world to be alone with you,” he added in a tender voice. Before she could remind him that William was part of the entire world, he went on. “Albert thinks, and I agree, that in order to foil whatever plan William has, we will need reinforcements.”
“Reinforcements?” The soft feelings his gift had left her with solidified into determination. “Why? He’s a man. A bitter, nasty, evil man. He’s not an invading army.”
“In a way, he is an army. Especially since he has help in the house.”
Mariah pressed her lips together without answering. “I still can’t believe any of the servants would help him.”
“I know.” Peter sighed. “Albert suggested inviting a mutual friend of ours, Lord Malcolm Campbell, to the house to serve as a spy.”
Mariah arched a brow. “Is he a spy?”
Peter didn’t answer.
“Oh.” The ice in Mariah’s stomach turned to snakes. She was in much further over her head than she’d imagined.
Peter glanced up at her again. “From there, the idea grew to that of hosting a house party.”
“A house party? Here? Now?”
“The more people William has around him, many of them people he doesn’t like, the greater the possibility that he will either slip up and expose himself and his accomplices or that he will leave of his own volition.”
“But with that many people in the house, how will we—” Mariah clamped her mouth shut and looked down.
Peter rested a hand on her cheek. “We’ll find a way,” he said. “It won’t be like this between us forever.”
She wanted to believe him with all her heart, but her thoughts and emotions were so jumbled up that she didn’t know what to believe.
“I thought you might want to invite your parents and Victoria,” he went on.
Mariah frowned. “William’s antics have grown so bad that you’re importing a spy to thwart him, we are on rocky ground with each other, and you want me to invite my family for a visit?”
Peter let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face. “I thought you would feel more secure with them here,” he said. “Considering that you’re thinking of going back to them.”
Mariah’s throat closed up. She was embarrassed that she’d made that threat the night before. The last thing she wanted to do was give up and run home to Mama. But she couldn't quite bring herself to say as much aloud.
“What if William lashes out at them?” she asked.
“I believe it’s me he’s after,” Peter said. “Well, he’s after what he thinks I owe him.”
Mariah shifted the flowers in her arms, which were beginning to ache as much as the rest of her. “He tried to enlist me to convince you to give him the money he wants and to make him your heir with the understanding that he would name any son of ours his heir.”
“And did you believe him?”
“No,” Mariah answered without hesitation. “He’s a liar and a rogue.”
Peter’s answering grin held no warmth. “Then you’re every bit as intelligent as I knew you to be.” He stepped closer, his hand brushing her waist and sending shivers through her. “And I hope—”
“Peter, there you are. And Mariah too.”
The moment Captain Tennant strode through the door from the garden, holding Domenica’s hand as she walked beside him, Peter took a step back. Mariah turned away to hide the blush that heated her cheeks.
“Domenica and I were wondering if the two of you wanted to go for a picnic with us,” Captain Tennant went on.
“Yes,” Domenica added. “It’s a beautiful day.”
Mariah glanced sideways at Peter, only to find him looking at her. “I need to take these to Poppy downstairs,” she said. “Perhaps tomorrow, when I’m feeling a bit better.”
“Do you need help?” Domenica asked.
Mariah hesitated. She peeked at Peter again, but his expression had clouded over. All she wanted was to figure out how to be with him, but with more people in the house, she didn’t see how that would be possible.
“I have to write a letter to my mother,” she answered Domenica. “But perhaps later I could show you through the gardens. I’ve just learned a great many things about them, and I would appreciate the chance to practice sharing that with guests.”
“Of course, my lady,” Domenica said with a friendly and open smile.
The four of them were silent. Mariah waited for Peter to ask her to stay, to go with him instead of facing her responsibilities, but he did nothing other than frown at a spot on the floor, as though his thoughts were a million miles away.
“Well, I’d best be going then,” she said at last, smiling at Captain Tennant and Domenica, sending Peter one last, wistful look, then turning to go. It would take far more than she felt capable of to fix the broken situation she’d landed in.
* * *
In the confines of his room, William tore open the letter from London. The return address was nonsense, designed to frighten him. Unfortunately, it did exactly that.
What was more frightening was the single sheet of paper the envelope contained. On it, one sentence was printed in the distinct, looping handwriting used by Theodore Shayles: “Your time is up.”
Shaking, heart pounding, William rushed to his fireplace. It was too warm to have the fire lit, but using the matches on the mantle, he ignited the letter and threw it into the empty hearth. He then stood back and watched the paper burn. Not that it would do any good.
They were coming for him. He could run, hide, even leave the country, but it wouldn’t do any good. If Shayles wanted him dead, he was dead.
Unless he played his cards right. He was clever enough to get out of the noose around his neck, he was sure. All he had to do was wait for the assassins, then make them an offer better than whatever Shayles had promised them.
And in the meantime, he could still get what he was owed from his uncle. The game wasn’t over yet.
Chapter 15
The invitations went out the next day. Mariah wrote to her parents, filled with doubt about whether more people at Starcross Castle was truly the solution to the problem of William. If he did have someone in the castle working for his interests, she was convinced it would be smarter to isolate him so that he couldn’t communicate with that person.
“You’d be surprised, my lady,” Ginny said when Mariah expressed those concerns to her as Ginny styled her hair for the day. “There’s no limit to what a bad man will do when he feels cornered.”
“But surely if William was confined to a few rooms, he wouldn’t be able to order his mole to do things like poison my soup or…or whatever other dastardly things he has planned.” She shuddered to think what they could be. Locked doors could be the least of her problems.
Ginny hummed around the hairpins she’d put in her mouth as she worked. As soon as they were all in place, she said, “He could make even more trouble if he believed he was imprisoned.”
Mariah sighed. “There is that. And in truth, I hate the idea of being anyone’s jailor.”
“Anyone’s?” Ginny asked with one brow raised.
Mariah met her eyes in the mirror and gave her a guilty look. “I don’t suppose I’d mind it if someone else took responsibility.”
The two of them shared a laugh. But there really didn’t seem to be good way to keep William under close supervision.
The situation was frustratingly impossible, and every day that passed saw Mariah’s mood sour even more. The worst bit was that a large part of her knew that if she could just let go of her anger and steal through the dressing roo
m doors at night to slip into Peter’s bed, even if just to sleep in his arms, she would feel better. But the stubborn part of her was waiting for him to come to her first.
The first guest to arrive at the castle was Lord Malcolm Campbell, a mere two days after his invitation was sent.
“I came as soon as I could,” he said without greeting as Mr. Snyder showed him into the front parlor.
It was a grey, wet day, and Mariah, Peter, Captain Tennant, and Domenica were passing the time in the only room in the house that didn’t seem to have a damp chill in the air. Each of them was absorbed reading their own book in silence, and they all glanced up when Lord Malcolm strode into the room.
“Malcolm.” Peter jumped to his feet from the other side of the sofa he’d been sharing with Mariah. He tossed his book aside without marking the page, as if he hadn’t been reading at all, and crossed to shake his friend’s hand. “I’m so glad you could come.”
“Your letter sounded serious.” Lord Malcolm frowned as he shook Peter’s hand, then walked on to greet Captain Tennant. He nodded to Domenica, then turned his scrutinizing gaze to Mariah as she stood. “So this is the new countess,” he said.
“Mariah,” Peter confirmed, moving to stand by Mariah’s side. His smile was full of hope.
“My lady.” Lord Malcolm snapped his heels together and bowed with military precision. “You look just like your mother. I always liked her. It’s a pleasure to meet a woman who makes my old friend as happy as his letters indicate.”
A burst of emotion swelled in Mariah’s chest. Had she spent the last week being too hard on Peter by waiting for an apology before mending fences?
“The pleasure is all mine, Lord Malcolm,” she replied with a polite nod of her head. “Peter has told me so much about you.” If hinting that Lord Malcolm was some sort of spy was telling her about him.
“Don’t listen to a word he says.” Lord Malcolm grinned. He was average height and build, with more grey in his hair than brown, but he had a wicked flash of mischief in his brown eyes, and energy rippled off him. Mariah couldn’t help but like him instantly, and be glad that he’d come. He clapped his hands together. “So, where is that reprehensible nephew of yours? I’ve been dreaming up ways to set him in his place since I left London.”
“Heaven knows,” Peter answered with a roll of his eyes. “He’s been unreliable this past week. He spends half his time taunting my guests—” He glanced warily to Domenica. “—and half the time off in town or some such.”
“And has he tried to harm your bride again since the soup incident?”
Mariah’s brow flew up. So Peter had explained everything after all. “Not that I know of,” she answered. “But I will admit, I haven’t felt quite right since learning how William resents me.”
“Of course not.” Malcolm shrugged. “Half of London wants William’s head on a platter for the pile of unpaid bills he left there, and if he thinks he can extort money and more from Peter here by making you miserable, well, I’d feel as though I were walking on eggshells too.”
Mariah blinked. She glanced to Peter, wondering if his friend was always so blunt. The look Peter sent her in return—half apologetic, half relieved that someone else would back what he’d been saying all along—confirmed her suspicions.
“We just need to keep him from turning the place upside down until he gives up his schemes as a hopeless cause,” Peter said.
“Easy enough.” Malcolm nodded. “And you suspect there’s someone in the house doing his bidding?”
“Possibly,” Peter answered.
Malcolm shrugged. “It’s usually a servant with a lower position in situations like this. And money is usually the motivator. All you have to do is figure out which of your staff has new acquisitions or trinkets that they couldn’t afford on what you pay them and you’ll have your mole.”
Mariah was impressed, and for the first time since arriving at Starcross Castle, she had hope that something could be done.
It kept her spirits lifted enough through the next three days to prepare a truly grand welcome for her parents. She was eager for them to see that she was a success as a countess after all, even if everything in the more intimate parts of her life was a mess.
So it was with an excited knot in her stomach that she stood on the front steps of Starcross Castle, Peter by her side, the staff lined up like a regiment waiting to be inspected, on a sunny June afternoon, watching a hired carriage roll up the drive.
“I think this will help,” Peter said, stepping closer to her.
Mariah peeked up at him. “Do you think?”
He sent her a tender smile. “I want you to be happy, Mariah. And even though no new groom in their right mind would want their in-laws hovering around while he’s trying to pitch woo to his new wife, if it makes you feel more secure, I’ll make the sacrifice.”
Mariah laughed in spite of herself. “You’ve been trying to pitch woo to me?”
He turned fully toward her, no longer pretending to be watching the carriage approach. “Am I that bad at it?”
Her stubborn heart melted a little at his genuine wince. “When did you try to woo me?”
“I read that book you recommended the other day when we were stuck inside,” he said.
Mariah’s lips twitched.
“And I let you have the last of the clotted cream at tea yesterday,” he went on.
“That’s pitching woo?”
“I gave you that hairpin.”
Mariah’s hand flew instantly to the precious gift, nestled carefully in her hairstyle. “You don’t have to buy me things to woo me.”
He let out a sigh, but his face was more relaxed than it had been. “I told you, I’m not very good at it. I never had to court a woman before.”
“You don’t have to court me now,” Mariah said as the carriage rounded the top of the drive and pulled to a stop. Davy jumped forward to open the door.
“Oh, but I do,” Peter said with mock seriousness, straightening and clasping his hands behind his back in preparation to meet her parents. “I’ve made a terrible mess of things between us, and the only way for me to set things right is to start over and court you properly.”
A flutter passed through Mariah’s heart, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it, or any of the lovely things Peter had just said. If he truly was trying to start over with her, there had to be a way she could help.
“I do love the hairpin,” she whispered, her cheeks pinking.
He had no time to reply. Victoria hopped down from the carriage a moment later. “Heavens above, Mariah,” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest and looking up at the castle. “I take back everything I said about the horror of marrying your fossil. This is so magnificent that even I would marry him.”
Heat stained Mariah’s cheeks, and she glanced to Peter, hoping he wouldn’t be too offended. But paradoxically, Peter looked happier than he had all week. He looked as though he were about to laugh.
“Victoria.” Mariah stepped forward, arms outstretched to greet her sister. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“And I’m thrilled to see you.” She leapt forward, throwing herself into Mariah’s arms so hard that the two of them almost spilled to the ground. “You look magnificent,” Victoria said with a squeal. “Very countess-like. Mama and Papa are going to be so sad to have missed this.”
Mariah blinked. “What?” She glanced past Victoria to the carriage, but Davy was already shutting the door as the other footmen took two trunks down from the back. “Where are they?”
“Mama and Papa?” Victoria glanced to the carriage, then back to Mariah. “They decided to stay home. Mama was curious about the castle, of course, but then Papa reminded her that they hadn’t had the house to themselves, just the two of them, in decades.” She made a disgusted sound. “You would have been sick if you’d heard the two of them talking about it and cooing at each other over tea.”
“Oh?” Mariah was beginning to feel sick at the thought of Vic
toria being at Starcross Castle alone. Without supervision. With William on the loose.
“What a large staff you have,” Victoria said, rushing past Mariah to inspect the line of Starcross servants. “And they’re all so fetching.” Her gaze lingered on the footmen as they carried her trunks inside. Davy had the audacity to grin back at her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mariah caught a half snort from Ginny as she clapped a hand over her mouth. That was enough to send giggles bubbling up in her throat. She just hoped Ginny would be willing to help babysit her sister.
The strained, wary looks on Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Snyder’s face made Mariah lose her smile, though. “Victoria, you remember Peter, don’t you?” She did her best to steer her sister away from ogling the footmen and on to proper things.
“Of course I do,” Victoria said, stepping over to Peter with a suspicious look. “You look younger than the last time I saw you.”
“It’s probably the castle,” Peter said. Mariah stifled a giggle with her hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Victoria. Please come inside.”
Whether it was the sunshine or Victoria’s vivacity, for a moment, Mariah felt as though everything would be all right after all. She needed the infusion of light that her sister would provide, and she couldn’t wait for Victoria to meet Domenica. The three of them might actually have fun together.
But not more than three steps into the castle, her hopes were dashed.
“Well, well. Is this the sister I’ve heard so much about?” William asked as he descended the grand staircase in the front hall.
“Oh my,” Victoria said, pressing a hand to her stomach. Her eyes shone as she glanced up at William, as though she were seeing an apparition.
“Uncle, why don’t you introduce me to your new guest?” William picked up his pace, marching toward them with a wolfish smile.