by Regina Scott
Would James like it?
“I thought you might be moping after that letter the earl sent,” Patsy said as she returned from the wardrobe.
Eva swiveled to let her at the fastenings on the back of her day dress. “Did you see it, then?”
“Not me, but that nice Mr. Pym was telling me about it. His lordship called you ungrateful, headstrong, and ill-disciplined.”
Eva frowned as Patsy pulled the gown off over her head. “Well, that was the pot calling the kettle black.”
“I thought so too,” Patsy said. “But then, he’s allowed to call anyone anything, isn’t he? He’s the earl.”
“Well, there’s only so much he can do now that James has agreed to help,” Eva said.
In the act of closing the back of the gown, Patsy peered around her. “James, is it? Well.”
Eva felt as if the carpet had grown hot under her feet. “It is only sensible, given that we will be working together to stop the earl’s control.”
“So you say,” Patsy murmured, returning to her task.
Eva was quite glad to escape the room.
But as she descended the stairs, she saw that James had come down before her, and he had changed as well. He was wearing a deep blue velvet coat with silver buttons and breeches buckled at each knee, as fine a looking gentleman as any in London Society.
Maudie glanced from Eva to him as Eva came to stand beside them by the long table.
“Well, don’t look at me,” she declared, tugging her shawl up on her shoulders. “All I own is black.”
“And you look very fine in it,” Eva assured her. “Black is always appropriate.”
She seemed to accept that, for she went to take her place at the table. James waited until Eva was seated beside him before sitting at the head. Pym brought a tureen of fish stew with plaice, mussels, and mushrooms. Eva could only hope they did not belong to Maudie’s fairy circle. Yeager followed with baskets of the crusty bread they’d bought in town. James said the blessing before serving them.
“Tomorrow is the Sabbath,” Maudie announced between bites. “Will you allow Eva to attend services at St. Andrew’s?”
James met Eva’s gaze. Now, there was a smile. The sight of it made her feel warm all over. “Eva and I are agreed that she is free to spend her time as she likes.”
Maudie nodded. “Good. Church tomorrow, a review of the troops on Monday, the spa on Tuesday, and the assembly on Wednesday.”
“No engagement with the mermaids?” Eva asked.
Maudie sniffed. “Certainly not. They’re entirely too busy this time of year.”
“And the trolls are unworthy of your company,” James added.
Maudie nodded. “Exactly right. Though I understand they highly esteem you, Magistrate.”
His mouth quirked, but he wisely applied himself to the meal.
Yeager brought out the iced cake for dessert. Eva took one bite of the orange-almond-flavored cake and sighed happily.
“Mr. Ellison’s bakery is one place I could visit daily,” she declared. “Alas, my pin money will only stretch so far. Have you worked out the funding yet, James?”
“His lordship neglected to provide details,” he said. “As you suggested, I intend to send the amount due to his man of affairs monthly. I expect it another month before the earl notices and argues.”
Eva’s conscience pulled at her. “You’re not concerned about spending the earl’s money when he may be in financial difficulties?”
Something flickered behind his eyes. “If he is in such a difficult place, he should have considered the costs before exiling you to my care.”
His care. A flutter started in her stomach. She ignored it.
“Join us in the music room after dinner,” she suggested.
He hesitated. “I have work I should attend to.”
“I’ll come,” Maudie said. “I can play for you.”
Eva swallowed the last of her cake. “I was hoping to play for you both.”
He set down his napkin. “In that case, I will make time.”
That flutter sprang up into her chest, until all of her tingled. She’d rarely played in company other than her father’s. She’d made it a point not to play for the earl again. He deserved nothing of her efforts. Before he’d confiscated her harp, she’d practiced when everyone was out except the servants. Playing for James felt big, important.
Vulnerable.
Yeager hurried ahead of them to light the lamps. She thought fleetingly about pleading a headache, but she raised her chin and marched for the music room. Someone had draped the harp once more in holland cloth. She pulled off the cover. Dust billowed, and she sneezed. Well, that certainly wasn’t the elegant beginning she’d had in mind.
“If you’d take a seat,” she said without looking their way. The whisper of cloth told her they had complied.
She gathered her skirts to sit on the little stool. The harp towered above her, the strings gleaming like strands of gold in the candlelight. She tucked the instrument closer, felt the weight of it on her shoulder. Positioning her fingers, she plucked a few strings. It was well tuned for being little used.
The sound of clapping surprised her, and she glanced over to the little gilt chairs to find Maudie beaming at her.
“An excellent rendition,” she claimed. “Perhaps another.”
She decided not to explain that she had merely been tuning. “Of course.”
Her father had been fond of Edward Jones, the Prince of Wales’s bard, so she launched into an old Welsh melody. In a moment, she was swept away, carried by the song of the harp like a leaf on the stream. The music swelled around her, inside her, brushing away worry, tension. The bright, pure notes filled the room and her heart, leaving her clean.
This time when she finished, both Maudie and James applauded. She met his gaze, basked in the awe, the wonder she saw there.
“I have never heard that instrument played better,” he said. “You are clearly a master at the craft.”
Eva smiled. “Thank you. I hope to be able to play often while I’m here.”
“Whenever you like,” he assured her. He rose and bowed to her and Maudie. “Now, I must see to my work.”
She set the harp upright and rose. “Wait. I have one question before I release you, sir. Will you remain in the castle as well, knowing that I am truly here at the earl’s demand?”
His face tightened. “You have no need for a jailer, but I cannot forget our visitor last night. I would prefer to stay until I know you are safe.”
“Then stay,” she said. “I am free to invite you when the entire castle belongs to your family.”
She thought she heard a chuckle as he inclined his head. “I will do my best to resolve the issue quickly so as not to intrude.”
“Thank you, James,” she said. She watched him walk from the room.
Maudie stood and sidled up to her. “He’s a fine man, the magistrate.”
“And the trolls approve of him,” Eva agreed with a smile.
Maudie nodded thoughtfully. “Still, there’s something he’s hiding.”
The room felt colder. “Why do you say that?”
“They’re always hiding something,” Maudie said darkly, and she stalked from the room.
Eva hurried to follow, but she didn’t have an opportunity to question Maudie further. James had only reached the middle of the stairs. He paused to allow them to proceed him, then accompanied them to their rooms.
“Good night, Mrs. Tully,” he said with a bow.
“Keep your pistol loaded,” she advised before slipping into her room and shutting the door.
He frowned after her, then turned to Eva. “If you see anyone tonight, or sense anything amiss, call for me. I’m a light sleeper.”
Eva smiled up at him. “Why, Mr. Howland, something on your conscience?”
She thought he would deny it, but he merely bowed and headed for his own room on the other side of the landing.
Can you really tr
ust him?
The worried voice seemed to echo in his footsteps, but she knew it was no specter whispering. She shivered and entered her room.
“What do you think of James Howland?” she asked Patsy as her maid helped change her for bed.
“He seems the upright sort,” Patsy allowed. “Mr. Pym appears devoted, which is more than I could say for any of the earl’s staff. They did their jobs from fear, not admiration and respect. But he’s a Howland. None of them have ever done right by you.”
“Viscount Thorgood was kind,” Eva protested as she pulled on her lawn nightgown. “He seemed as reluctant as I was to marry at his father’s command.”
“And how long will he withstand the pressure?” Patsy asked as she took away the purple gown for pressing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up here, ring in hand, pretending to be your hero.”
Was James pretending? Eva shoved away the thought as she climbed into bed. “I can only hope the viscount finds another lady to love, one with a sizeable dowry.”
Patsy shook her head. “No one has a dowry as big as yours.”
She wasn’t sure about that, but she decided not to argue the point. Men had been drooling over her since the day she’d come out, and she had no illusions that they had coveted her talents and charms more than the money.
She lay for a while after Patsy left, listening, but she heard only the usual sounds of a house settling around her. A coal shifted in the grate. The floorboards creaked. From outside came the faint sound of the waves against the cliff. She snuggled deeper under the covers.
Light was peeking under the velvet curtains when she woke to sounds of Patsy poking up the fire.
“Church today,” she told her maid. “I’ll wear the white muslin with the embroidery along the hem and my pink wool shawl with the gold fringe. You haven’t had a day off in a while. Would you like the afternoon to yourself?”
Patsy straightened, broad face beaming. “That would be lovely, Miss Eva. Thank you. I’ve brought warm water. I’ll leave you to it while I go check on Mrs. Tully.”
Eva ventured to the fine porcelain washbasin and pitcher in the corner, but she hadn’t even wet a cloth before Patsy dashed back into the room.
“Miss Eva, she’s gone!”
Eva pulled her wrapper about her with a frown. “Gone? Did I oversleep? Has she already left for services?”
“It’s only half past eight, miss,” Patsy protested. “But her bedclothes haven’t been mussed. I don’t think she slept there. Where could she be?”
Chapter Eight
James was shaving when he became aware of a disturbance in the corridor. Even as he set down his razor in the porcelain basin, the door to his room burst open.
“Miss Faraday!” Pym protested, James’s navy coat draped over one arm. “You cannot be in here!”
“But she’s gone!” Eva cried, gaze going past him to James. “Maudie has disappeared.”
He grabbed a towel and wiped the remaining lather from his face. “Out chasing fairies, perhaps?”
Eva shook her head. She was clothed in a pink quilted dressing gown, and her hair sprang in a wild nimbus around her face and shoulders. “I had Yeager check the grounds close to the castle. Patsy says her bed hasn’t been slept in. What could have happened to her?”
James frowned. It was doubtful whoever had broken into the castle would seek to kidnap an elderly retainer, but Mrs. Tully might have wandered somewhere she would have a hard time escaping.
“Pym, fetch Miss Faraday’s coachman and groom from the stables. We’ll search the house. She may have fallen and is unconscious.”
Eva pressed her hand to her mouth as if holding back the same fear.
Pym handed him his coat and scurried out.
“We’ll find her,” James promised. “Perhaps you could ask Yeager and Patsy to help as well.”
She dropped her hand. “Of course. Thank you.” She left too. James shrugged into his coat, then set about pulling on his boots before following.
She was already in the great hall with Pym and her staff when he descended a short time later. Her eyes blazing, she marched up to him.
“Dastard! Coward! Bounder! How dare you!”
James took a step back. “What are you talking about?”
Pym put himself between them as if afraid Eva was about to do James violence. “I spoke with Mr. Connors, the coachman, sir,” his man said. “He noticed someone leaving the house last night. After everything that had happened earlier, he decided to give chase. It was Mrs. Tully. When he asked her why she was leaving, she said she’d been told to do so. He had Kip, the groom, escort her into the village.”
“You sent her away,” Eva accused.
“Why would I do that?” James asked.
“Because we just spent the night alone together,” she said, voice echoing to the high ceiling. “You know what that means to my reputation.”
Someone, likely her maid, gasped. James wasn’t about to take his eyes off Eva. Her face was florid, her body trembling.
“Eva, I…” he started.
She held up one finger to silence him. “I won’t let you get away with it. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.”
~~~
She could barely stand to look at him. Why, oh why, had she allowed herself to trust him, to begin to care for him? She wasn’t stupid. She knew how the earl schemed. Why had she thought for one minute the man he relied upon would be any different?
He gazed down at her now, face impassive, as if he’d tucked any emotion safely away.
“I had nothing to do with Mrs. Tully’s defection,” he said.
“A likely story,” Eva fumed. “She knew she was needed. Why leave without saying goodbye?”
“Perhaps the fairies suggested it,” he said.
“That,” she spat out, “isn’t funny.”
“I understand the ramifications of her actions,” he said in that maddeningly calm voice. “But at the moment, the only people who know of the matter are the ones in this room and your staff in the coach house.”
“And Mrs. Tully and her kin,” Patsy put in.
“All of whom will be understanding,” James assured her.
Eva glanced around. Yeager nodded in support. Patsy drew herself up as if with pride. Eva knew she could count on Mr. Connors and young Kip; they too had served her father and rebelled against bowing to the earl. Mr. Pym met her gaze and stepped closer to his master.
Eva narrowed her eyes at the pair of them. “And you’ll tell no one?”
“You have my solemn promise,” James said. “Would you like us to sign in blood?”
Mr. Pym looked at him askance, eyes widening.
Tempting, but Eva shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. Besides, it would only put the matter in writing, and I’d just as soon pretend it never happened.”
“Done,” he said.
She couldn’t believe him. “That easily?”
“That easily. Now, if you are determined to put your best face forward, I suggest you prepare to attend church services. I’ll leave now and come in from the direction of the magistrate’s house. That ought to keep any tongues from wagging. And perhaps we can locate Mrs. Tully and discover who exactly advised her to leave us so hastily.”
All reasonable suggestions. “Very well,” Eva said. “I’ll see you at services, sir.”
He bowed, then headed for the stairs, Mr. Pym right behind.
“That’s a rare fellow,” Yeager muttered.
“Yes,” Eva said, watching the magistrate go. “At least, so he appears.”
~~~
James remained on her mind as she finished dressing, breakfasted, and then rode in the carriage with Patsy down to St. Andrew’s in the village. It was a small church compared to those she’d attended in London, long and narrow, with a white-washed face and a silver cross high on the steeple and shining against the grey of the cloudy sky. Inside, the box pews were stained a rich, warm color that had lik
ely mellowed with age. She was standing in the shadowed narthex, contemplating where to sit, when Miss Archer, the painter, came up to her.
“Miss Faraday,” she said with a nod that set the candlelight skipping along the ginger-colored hair which peeked out from her straw bonnet. “It’s nice to see you again. Wondering where to sit?”
Eva nodded. “I know some churches have family pews. I wouldn’t want to take anyone’s place.”
She tipped her chin toward the pews on the left. “First two rows belong to the Howlands. No one ever sits there.”
“Not even the magistrate?” Eva asked with a frown.
“Not even the magistrate. But since you’re a guest of the earl, I see no reason why you can’t use them. I’ll join you, if you like. My mother wasn’t feeling well today, so I’m alone for once. And the Archers lost their family pew ages ago.”
It was not the place to pursue that comment, but Eva made a note to ask the lady why at another time.
“I’d be delighted for the company,” she said, and she led Patsy and Miss Archer up to the first row, feeling curious gazes on her back.
They settled themselves just in time, for the service opened a few moments later. The vicar was an earnest fellow who bobbed his head while speaking as if to emphasize the point he was making. She couldn’t quite agree with his sermon about being content with one’s lot. If her father had been content, she’d have grown up in the rented room off the Strand with little chance to improve herself. As it was, she could barely remember what it was like to want for anything. She bowed her head and whispered a prayer of thanks—for her father’s determination, for the opportunities that had come his way, for the blessing of a secure future he’d left her.
For James Howland coming into her life.
That last part slipped in before she’d thought better of it. She’d been so angry this morning when she’d thought he had betrayed her. She should have known better than to trust a Howland. Yet, he wasn’t a Howland by choice. And he’d been very composed throughout the entire affair. Perhaps he truly was a man she could rely on.