The Heiress's Convenient Husband

by Regina Scott

  With a shake of his head, he followed Yeager. He paused at the top of the landing to listen again, but the castle kept its secrets well. He joined Yeager at Miss Faraday’s door and rapped.

  “What’s the word to pass?” That was Mrs. Tully’s voice.

  Yeager frowned as if trying to remember it.

  “I must speak to Miss Faraday,” James called through the portal.

  “Why can’t any of you get it right?” she complained a moment before Miss Faraday opened the door.

  She held the pistol in one grip. Seeing him, she uncocked and lowered it. “I heard no sign of a struggle. I take it you didn’t find anyone.”

  “No,” James admitted. “I suggest you may want to keep Mrs. Tully with you again. If you prefer, we can bring down a cot for Yeager as well.”

  Yeager’s eyes narrowed over his sharp nose.

  “No need to discomfort Yeager or Mrs. Tully,” she said. “Patsy can stay with me if she’s worried.”

  “Yes, miss.” The maid’s voice sounded relieved.

  “Mr. Pym and I will be on guard across the landing,” James promised her. “You should be perfectly safe.”

  She handed him back the pistol. “Very well, Mr. Howland. But you owe me an explanation in the morning.”

  He refused to share what he knew until he was sure of her. “I cannot explain what I cannot find, madam,” he said.

  He could not understand why what he said continued to amuse her, but her mouth quirked, and her eyes sparkled.

  “Normally, I would agree,” she said, “but you warned me of the dangers of this castle before I sighted our mysterious guest. You clearly expected something of this nature. I must know the truth if I’m to protect myself and my staff.”

  A shame he could not argue there. “In the morning, then, Miss Faraday.”

  He could only hope their prowler showed his hand before then, and James could end this before he had to tell Eva everything.

  ~~~

  No one else disturbed Eva’s sleep, even though she lay awake for some time, listening. At one point, Patsy, sleeping beside her, started snoring, making it impossible to hear anything else beyond the room. Still, the noise was rhythmic enough that she fell asleep anyway.

  She woke to the sound of her maid stirring. Patsy’s brown hair stuck out at odd angles as she sat up in the bed and glanced around.

  “We’re still alive,” she said, as if she’d doubted that might be the case.

  Eva swung her legs off the bed. “Let’s hope we can say the same of Mrs. Tully and Mr. Howland.”

  Patsy shuddered. “I’ll just stir up the coals before I go check.”

  But when Eva ventured downstairs a short while later, gowned in pink sprigged muslin, she found James Howland and Maudie at the table in the great hall, tucking into a hearty breakfast of liver and eggs. He rose as Eva approached.

  “You look rested,” she said, eyeing his tailored black coat and breeches. His cravat was intricately tied. She would not have taken him for a dandy.

  “Pym and I spelled each other on watch,” he said as she sat.

  A likely story. He knew something more. Had he brought the stranger into the house just to frighten her? She’d seen the look on his face when Maudie had first started spinning tales. He’d thought Eva would run at the first hint of a supernatural presence. But what she’d seen had been no ghost.

  “This would be an excellent opportunity for you to explain yourself, sir,” she said as Pym brought her a loaded plate. Her companion continued eating with a happy sigh.

  He glanced at Maudie. “Perhaps after breakfast.”

  So, he didn’t want Maudie to know. There might be a good reason for that. She was good at telling stories. Perhaps others in the village believed them. But why did he need to hide the fact that they had found a stranger in the castle? Didn’t he want help identifying the culprit?

  “Very well,” Eva allowed, picking up her fork. “But you can solve one mystery for me.”

  He hesitated. “Oh?”

  “Who’s cooking?” she asked.

  He relaxed. “Pym has cooked for me for years. If you end up staying at the castle, we’ll have to make other arrangements, but, for now, he can serve our needs.”

  It seemed she wouldn’t even have to leave the castle to shop. He was proving a most efficient jailer, whether he meant to or not.

  As if he’d noticed her glance toward the windows, he nodded in that direction. “The grounds are particularly fine this time of year. You might enjoy seeing them after breakfast. And Mrs. Tully could hunt for fairy circles.”

  Maudie’s eyes lit. “Excellent suggestion.”

  Odd suggestion. She doubted he believed in fairies any more than she did. But she was willing to play along. It would get her out of the castle, and perhaps she could convince him to be more forthcoming.

  When they had finished, Yeager fetched them their cloaks, and they ventured out at last.

  It had been nearly dark when she’d arrived at the castle the other day. She’d only registered a lot of tall stone surrounded by emerald-colored lawns. Now she noticed the slender trees that encircled the hunting lodge, bark almost silver and spring green leaves swaying as if they kept a discreet distance from the castle’s grandeur. Just beyond, wildflowers bobbed their heads, pinks, purples, blues, and reds vibrant.

  “I believe you may find mushrooms in that direction,” James told Maudie with a nod toward the trees. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  Without a glance at Eva, she trotted off.

  “That was badly done,” Eva said as she followed at a slower pace. “What if she eats one?”

  “And destroy the fairy circle? Never.”

  Eva kept her eye on Maudie’s black-clad figure just in case. “What did you want to tell me that she cannot hear?”

  She thought he might prevaricate anew, but he clasped his hands behind his back as if he had made up his mind.

  “Someone has been placing a light in the castle window on occasion,” he told her. “I have been checking the castle more often since it started. I was coming to look the night you arrived.”

  Eva frowned. “But there was no one in the castle when we reached it. The door was locked.”

  “The door is generally locked,” he said darkly. “It was locked before you retired last night.”

  The air felt colder, and she wrapped her cloak closer. “So, we might have come upon this intruder at any time.”

  “Perhaps not,” he hedged, as if he could tell he had rattled her. “We originally suspected smugglers, but the gang in the area was recently captured.”

  “And yet I saw someone last night,” Eva insisted.

  “Which begs the question—who is using the castle and why?”

  Ahead, Maudie bent over the grass as if to study a spatter of white-capped mushrooms shaped like parasols. She straightened with a shake of her head and moved on.

  “You said we suspected smugglers,” Eva murmured as they followed. “Who else knows about the incidents?”

  Again, he answered readily enough. “Captain St. Claire, a friend of mine. Mr. Denby, the Riding Surveyor for the area. Mr. Chance, the Riding Officer for Grace-by-the-Sea, and Miss Chance, the spa hostess.”

  “She’s Mrs. Tully’s niece,” Eva remembered. “So surely Maudie knows too.”

  “I am never entirely certain what Mrs. Tully knows,” he said, looking to where Maudie was now hopping through a patch of wildflowers, arms flapping.

  Eva shook her head. “If you are this cautious about word getting out, you must suspect someone in the village.”

  “I dislike suspecting any of my neighbors,” he said, gaze hardening. “But it’s unlikely anyone would travel a great distance to sneak into the castle, and there has been no sign of a break in.”

  “So someone else has a key,” Eva surmised.

  “Indeed. I thought them all accounted for. I have one. Our employment agency owner has another, which he uses to open the door for th
ose who come to clean.”

  “Obviously the earl sent me with one,” Eva added. “I’m assuming he kept one as well.”

  “So you say.”

  Eva frowned at him. “Oh, come now. Surely you don’t still think I made that all up. If I had been a thief determined to steal from you, I could have cleaned out the silver and run while you were fetching Maudie. And I would hardly have screamed at my own man last night.”

  “Agreed,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “But I wish I knew what drove our visitor to take a chance on entering an occupied building.”

  “Aha!” Maudie positively vibrated as she beckoned them closer. “Come see what I found.”

  She was standing in the center of a ten-foot circle of white-capped mushrooms. Easy to imagine rainbow-winged fairies sitting on each to have a chat.

  Eva smiled. “How delightful. Don’t you agree, Mr. Howland?”

  When he didn’t answer, she glanced up to find him staring out through the trees.

  She could see why. Just beyond the circle, the wildflowers had been trampled, their stems broken, as if a large beast like a horse had been pastured among them.

  And Eva doubted it had belonged to the fairies.

  Chapter Five

  James stared at the battered flowers. This had to have been where his quarry had tied his horse last night before making his escape. Had he come from a long distance after all? Why?

  “Looks like our visitor left a trail,” Miss Faraday said beside him. “Let’s follow it.”

  She was so eager, but she couldn’t understand the danger. If this fellow was part of a new smuggling gang moving into the area, he would fight to hide his identity, to the death if need be. Yet, surely they’d captured all the smugglers. Who had come to sneak into his castle now?

  “Stay close,” he advised, and she and Mrs. Tully gathered around him as he began walking through the trees.

  “We must speak to my coachman,” Miss Faraday said, scurrying to keep up. “Perhaps the horses reacted last night to a strange beast so near.”

  “Especially if it was ridden by fairies,” Mrs. Tully put in helpfully.

  “No fairies,” James assured her. “But I doubt your coachman heard anything, Miss Faraday. You’d be surprised the number of ways thieves have found to move silently.”

  “You have extensive experience with such matters as magistrate, I imagine,” she mused, pink-sprigged skirts swishing across the grass below the hem of her cloak.

  “Less than other magistrates along the coast,” he allowed, focusing on the tracks. The grove of trees was denser here, the wildflowers fewer. With the sunlight slanting through the leaves, he was hard-pressed to spot a sign of a horse’s passing, much less determine the exact direction.

  They moved back into the sunlight as they reached the edge of the headland nearest the sea, and he put out his arms to prevent them from stepping onto unstable ground. “Easy. The cliff erodes a little more after each storm.”

  Mrs. Tully shaded her eyes with her hand, gaze going out over the blue-green waves of the Channel. “No sign of mermaids.”

  “Or our thief,” James agreed.

  Miss Faraday frowned. “What’s that noise?”

  Funny. He’d heard the roar of the waves so often he no longer noticed. One of the reasons the area below the castle was called the Dragon’s Maw was the sound the waves made when they pummeled the cliff at high tide, as they were now. The other was the boulders sticking up like teeth and guarding the entrance to the caves.

  “The roar of the dragon,” Mrs. Tully said, as if she remembered as well. “No one’s getting into the caves right now.”

  “Getting in?” Miss Faraday looked around him at their chaperone. “You mean the cave entrance your niece sailed into is right below us?”

  “No,” James started even as Mrs. Tully nodded.

  “That’s how the smugglers reach the caves too,” she said.

  Of course she would know about the caves. He’d heard that some of the young men had taken to attempting to enter by sea as proof they had reached adulthood. As far as he knew, all had come back to boast of their achievements, and they’d left the caves relatively undisturbed.

  “As Mrs. Tully has mentioned, there are caves under the headland,” he admitted to Eva. “They were used for storage once, but they’ve been empty for years.”

  “Pft,” Mrs. Tully spat. “They’ve been used by smugglers, you mean. And the French send their spies that way.”

  James speared her with a look. “That, madam, is a lie.”

  Both Mrs. Tully and Miss Faraday stiffened, but at his condemning statement or his vehemence, he wasn’t sure.

  Mrs. Tully narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen them.”

  Along with fairies, trolls, and mermaids. “When?” James asked. “If you know the enemy is traveling through the area, it is your duty to inform me as your magistrate.”

  “Why?” she asked. “The mermaids don’t.”

  “Mr. Howland is correct,” Miss Faraday put in gently. “If you are aware of the enemy so close, we must alert the Home Office.”

  She scowled. “I’ve been speaking out for years, and no one pays me the least attention. Why, I’ve seen Napoleon on this very headland. For all we know, he’s the one who snuck in last night.”

  James blew out a breath. “Mrs. Tully, forgive me for not paying sufficient attention in the past, but you must admit that finding the French emperor on English soil is unlikely.”

  She stood taller. “Unlikely, but not impossible.”

  “Not impossible,” Miss Faraday said with a look to James. “But let’s focus on more recent events. Someone was in the castle last night. Was that person a smuggler or a French agent?”

  James turned from the view. “That, Miss Faraday, is what I want to know.”

  She turned as well, then froze, eyes widening. He jerked to a stop. What had she discovered now?

  “The village is right there!” she declared.

  James glanced over Grace-by-the-Sea, where Miss Chance was leading a group of Newcomers through the village. Mr. Carroll was already out in front of his curiosity shop in anticipation, sunlight sparkling on his spectacles.

  “Did you expect it to have moved?” he asked Miss Faraday.

  Her reddening cheeks clashed with the pink of her cloak. “No. But it wasn’t visible when we came in the other night, and my room faces the courtyard. The earl made it sound as if I would be completely isolated. The village is an easy walk.”

  “A quarter hour at a brisk pace,” Mrs. Tully agreed. “Less if you’re a troll.”

  Miss Faraday regarded him as if he’d somehow hidden the village from her. “I demand we visit.”

  He ought to refuse. He still had little knowledge as to why the earl had sent her here or if he even knew she existed. She could be a cunning thief or in league with those using the castle for their own ends.

  But if his cousin had truly exiled her here, James would not add to her misery. And having her and Mrs. Tully out of the house would give him an opportunity to visit the caves, see if he could find any evidence of unauthorized entry. He might even find time for a word with Quill. At the least, his friend should be alerted to the visitor last night.

  “Certainly you should go, Miss Faraday,” he said. “Mrs. Tully knows the area well. She will make an exceptional guide. Take Yeager with you as escort. I look forward to hearing what you think of the place.”

  ~~~

  He’d given in entirely too easily. Maybe it was penance for the way he’d spoken to Mrs. Tully. He certainly didn’t like the idea that the enemy might be near. Still, Eva wasn’t ready to trust him.

  She wasn’t willing to refuse the chance to escape, either, if only for the afternoon. She led Maudie back to the castle to leave their cloaks and collect Yeager, their shawls, and their reticules, then set out for the village.

  She wasn’t sure how to get down from the headland, but Maudie showed them a switchback path that brought the
m out on a pleasant lane.

  “Castle Walk,” she explained as they passed white-washed cottages with thatched roofs. “Directly ahead is High Street. Left takes you down to the shops and the shore. Right takes you up to the spa and assembly rooms. Directly across is Church Street, which leads to the magistrate’s house and St. Andrew’s.”

  “So, Mr. Howland doesn’t live on the castle grounds,” Eva said as they reached the cross street.

  Maudie snorted. “Not his family. The earl barely considers them relations, for all they share a common lineage.” She leaned closer. “I suspect he was a changeling, switched at birth with a troll. That’s why they obey him.”

  That would explain a great deal, if she believed in trolls.

  “Which way, Miss Eva?” Yeager asked, glancing right and left.

  She’d wanted to meet Miss Chance, see the spa, even do some shopping, but another idea held more interest at the moment. “Show me Mr. Howland’s house.”

  If her choice surprised her chaperone, Maudie didn’t show it. She obligingly led them across the wide High Street toward the steeple rising against the opposite hillside.

  The houses were grander here—two or three stories, with brick or stone sides and window boxes or gardens bursting with blooms.

  “That one’s his,” Maudie said with a nod toward one of the largest. “It was his father’s before him. His grandfather built it. He was the second son of the earl’s grandfather.”

  Eva calculated the connection in her head. “So, Mr. Howland is Viscount Thorgood’s second cousin.”

  “And the earl’s cousin once removed,” Maudie agreed as they stopped in front of the wrought-iron fence.

  Eva eyed the house. It was certainly worthy of the local magistrate, but it was a far cry from the earl’s other properties in London and Somerset. How hard did James Howland have to work to keep it? How much had he had to compromise?