The Heiress's Convenient Husband

by Regina Scott

  “He would make our lives miserable,” he corrected her. “I’m used to it, but I will not have him harm you or my mother. I must start for London to extract her from his clutches and purchase a special license from the Archbishop, so we can marry as soon as possible. I will have to stay through the morning muster tomorrow, but I’ll leave immediately afterward.”

  She clasped her hands together, eyes shining. “An excellent plan. Take Mr. Connors and the carriage. That way you can bring back your mother and her things.”

  He nodded. “Thank you. That would help. Perhaps while I’m gone you can broach the subject with the vicar.”

  “I’ll make all the arrangements,” she said.

  “One last thing,” he said. “I cannot like you staying at the castle unprotected, particularly after Mrs. Tully’s story about a stranger there last night, one who claims to know the earl’s mind. Tongues will wag, but we’ll move you into the magistrate’s house in the village. We’ll have to find another place to live once we wed in any event. That house too belongs to the earl.”

  She sobered. “How badly can he harm us, if we pull this off?”

  “It depends,” James said. “He’ll want revenge, but he’ll also feel the need to make an example of us. Anyone who crosses him must know they will pay a price. Still, you’re right—your fortune gives us an advantage. So does my background. My father and I worked for him for years. I know any number of facts his lordship might not want made public.”

  “Ooo,” she said with a smile. “Ruthless. I like it.”

  James chuckled despite himself. “I hope you will not regret your proposal, Eva, but I will marry you. Now, let’s see what can be done to put our plan in place.”

  ~~~

  What followed was a flurry of preparations. It was rather impressive, actually. Eva had been largely kept out of her father’s business affairs, but she’d learned a few things since his death as a way to safeguard her fortune. She’d also listened to any number of gentlemen discuss their financial ambitions with him and heard how quickly and accurately he’d identified the problems and prescribed solutions.

  Her father would have admired James Howland.

  “List your wishes regarding your inheritance,” he said as they rode back to Castle How together. “Your needs, your hopes. I’ll take the list with me to London and find a solicitor willing to craft the agreement, but I’ll bring it back for your review before signing. Did you leave anything in the earl’s care?”

  “My harp and my winter clothes,” she told him. “But there are boxes of books and my father’s things in the house he purchased in London, along with all its furnishings.”

  “Who cares for the house while you’re away?” he asked.

  “A small staff loyal to my father. Their pay is stipulated in his will along with that of Patsy, Yeager, Mr. Connors, and Kip, until I secure my inheritance. I will note their pay on my list of financial obligations I intend to continue.”

  “Good,” he said. “We’ll have to determine how to deal with the house itself at some point. I would prefer to stay in Grace-by-the-Sea. London puts us too easily in the earl’s reach.”

  She knew he was right. She’d lived in so many houses in London that the last one didn’t feel particularly like home, especially with her father gone. But she’d enjoyed the excitement of the city, the opera, the theatre. Was she willing to settle for a village on the seashore?

  “We can stay here, for now,” she agreed. “We could go anywhere we want, once Napoleon is done with his murderous threats.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t make any promises. “Then we’ll move you into the village today. I’ll have Pym help you pack. Take nothing from the castle that isn’t yours. I have no right to any of it, with the exception of my mother’s harp, which I intend to remove today.”

  By the sound of it, he and his father had worked their entire lives to protect the earl’s interests in Dorset. Whatever they had been given—houses, position, income—might be taken away at the earl’s whim.

  “Oh!” Eva pressed a hand to his arm. “I just realized. Will you lose your position as magistrate?”

  “Quite possibly,” he said, voice grim. “The magistrate is appointed by the landowners in the area. The earl, Lord Peverell, and a few yeoman farmers own most of the property, and the farmers may be persuaded to take the earl’s side.”

  “Who would they appoint instead, then?” she worried.

  “In truth, I don’t know. Captain St. Claire or Mr. Denby would be the next logical choices, though neither is versed in the law and may not wish to serve given the position is voluntary. But, whatever happens, the results will be far less than what the earl does any time I question him. I will be my own man at last. That is priceless.”

  His voice was warm with conviction. She could not doubt him. She would not doubt their plan. It was the best, the only way, to save both them and the fortune her father had worked so hard to build.

  When they reached the castle, he asked Mr. Connors to see to the horses, then join them in the great hall. The coachman returned with Kip a short time later. Yeager and Pym came in as well. James nodded to each.

  “Gentlemen. You should know that Miss Faraday and I have agreed to wed.”

  Pym reared back, and Yeager looked as if he was about to fall off his feet. Only Mr. Connors looked smug, and she wondered how much he’d overheard from his place on the bench.

  Yeager recovered first. “May I wish you happy, sir, miss.”

  “Thank you, Yeager,” she said as the others joined in to congratulate her. “Thank you all.”

  “You should also know that our marriage is in direct opposition to the wishes of the Earl of Howland,” James continued. “He will not be pleased when he hears of it, so it is in our best interest that he hear nothing until it’s accomplished.”

  They all nodded. Even Pym, it seemed, had had cause to learn about the earl’s vindictiveness.

  “Eva and I are united in our commitment to continue with your services,” James added, “but if anyone fears what the earl might do, he is welcome to leave, and no questions asked.”

  Mr. Connors drew himself up. Kip’s eyes widened.

  “I’m not afraid of the earl,” Yeager said.

  “You should be,” Pym put in. “But I see no reason to allow fear to rule me. We’re all with you, Mr. Howland, Miss Faraday.”

  Eva’s heart swelled.

  James organized them in repacking so she could spend time making the list of her financial requirements. They also checked the ground-floor rooms again, but neither spotted anything out of place to show someone else had been there last night.

  “Bit of fuss and bother,” Patsy complained when she returned around the dinner hour, but she finished packing Eva’s things in short order.

  After dinner, Eva, Patsy, Yeager, and Pym rode in the carriage with most of the boxes and trunks down into the village. Kip drove a wagon that belonged to the castle with James to bring down the harp and the rest of their things.

  “Only unpack what is necessary for the next week,” Eva instructed her staff. “We intend to move to a different house shortly.”

  Patsy’s sigh was audible.

  Mr. Pym directed them once they reached the house. “The master’s things in his suite, chamber story to the right. There are two guest rooms to the left. Save the front-facing one for Mrs. Howland. Use the rear-facing one for Miss Eva. Pile everything else in the storeroom off the kitchen for now.”

  James came in as Yeager went out to see about the harp. “If you are comfortable here, I will make a few other arrangements in the village.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Eva assured him. With another nod, he set out.

  She was directing Yeager and Pym on where to put Mrs. Howland’s harp when she heard a rap at the door. Turning, she saw a woman standing in the open doorway. She had that color of hair called Titian, after the painter who had favored it in his work. It sprang out in curls around the inside of her si
lk-lined bonnet.

  “Have I come at a bad time?” she asked, gloved hands clasped over her pearly muslin gown.

  Pym stepped forward helpfully. “Miss Faraday, allow me to present Mrs. Kirby, the village leasing agent.”

  “The magistrate asked me to contact you regarding a new house,” the older lady said with a smile. “I gather it was rather urgent, so I thought I’d see about setting up an appointment for tomorrow. If you give me your requirements, I can have appropriate properties ready for you to review.”

  Eva thought fast. “At least four bedchambers, a study for Mr. Howland to conduct business, a room to hold a harp or two, quarters for seven to ten staff—nice quarters, mind you, with plenty of light and heat—and a dining room and withdrawing room large enough to entertain.”

  Mrs. Kirby nodded. “Excellent. I’ll see what I can do. Will half past ten be too early?”

  Eva glanced at Pym.

  He drew himself up. “Actually, Madam has an appointment in the morning. Half past one would be more appropriate.”

  “Then I’ll stop by at that time,” the leasing agent said. She turned to go. Pym shut the door behind her.

  “What appointment do I have in the morning, Mr. Pym?” Eva asked as he returned to Yeager’s side.

  “I thought you would want to review the troops, miss,” he said. “I expect the spectacle will be rather stirring.”

  She and her father had once gone to see a parade of the Life Guards, who protected the royal family. She struggled to think of the militia of Grace-by-the-Sea as so impressive, but perhaps she would be pleasantly surprised. “Very well.”

  “And that was very kind of you, Miss Eva, to ask for good rooms for us,” Yeager put in.

  “It will be your home too,” Eva said. “Now, what else must we do to help everyone settle in here?”

  They had unpacked what must be unpacked in the right rooms, and Pym was cooking dinner when James returned.

  “Join me in my study, Eva,” he said, moving toward a room at one side of the entry. His tone was so subdued she was almost afraid to follow, but she went inside, and he closed the door. It was a formal room, bookcases taking up much of the walls, the tomes lined up like little soldiers. A map between two of the cases showed properties around the area that must belong to the Howland family. A large desk, with papers neatly stacked, took up the back third of the room, with a chair behind and in front.

  He nodded toward the closest chair. “Have a seat.”

  Eva sank onto the chair. “You changed your mind.”

  His brows rose as he sat behind the desk. “No. But you may change your mind about wanting to live in this village when you see this.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.

  Eva took it gingerly, unfolded it, and then peered closer. “What is this? There is nothing but random letters and numbers.”

  She glanced up to find him nodding. “That’s Mrs. Tully’s fairy language.”

  She frowned down at it. “Surely not.”

  “Neither Mr. Denby nor I can make sense of it, but he’s concerned it may be a cipher of some sort, the kind used by agents passing secrets.”

  She dropped the parchment on his desk, feeling as if it had burned her fingers. “Surely you don’t think Maudie is colluding with the French.”

  “Not in the slightest. Nor do I think that came from her friends the fairies or the mermaids. Someone had been in their cottage while they were at services today; they found things moved about, misplaced. Fortunately, the miscreant didn’t locate the note. I can only wonder where Mrs. Tully had it stored. Regardless, I’m very much afraid a French agent has found his way into our midst and is using the castle to leave messages for his colleagues.”

  “Truly?” Eva asked. “Maudie said the man who told her to leave talked about knowing the earl. What connection does the Earl of Howland have with French agents?”

  “That,” he said, “is a very good question. I intend to do my best to see it answered.”

  Chapter Ten

  How could his cousin take the side of the French? James kept asking himself the question as he and Eva ate dinner and talked more about the financial arrangements. He made sure everything in the house was to her satisfaction, then went up to the Swan to sleep. The innkeeper, Mr. Truant, looked at him askance, but James kept his face neutral. He knew how to keep a secret.

  So did the earl. James could make no sense of the situation based on the information they had. Mrs. Tully seemed certain that his lordship hired smugglers. James doubted he’d go so far, but he wouldn’t be the first aristocrat to purchase liquor, silk, and lace that hadn’t come through legally. With the war on, it was hard to get those commodities, and the smugglers’ goods were usually less expensive than those on which the tariff had been paid. How ironic that those who could most afford to pay the price refused.

  But if Miss Chance’s betrothed, Larkin Denby, was right, and that note was code from a French agent, the earl was dabbling in treason. Was the family in so dire a need of funds, as Eva had suggested? Surely the earl wouldn’t sell his country’s secrets to the enemy just to line his own pocket. As earl, he might be privy to some of the king’s plans, but even he would stop short of jeopardizing England’s security. Wouldn’t he?

  All the more reason for James to get to London quickly.

  Of course, he must settle things here first. When he’d met with Lark to collect the note, they’d agreed that the Riding Surveyor and his officer, Miss Chance’s younger brother, Alex, would keep an eye on the castle. The two of them would not be enough to watch all the entrances, but James didn’t dare allow Lark beyond the front door to survey the interior. He had come to value the exciseman for his daring and insights. Lark had been part of the group that had ousted the smugglers from Grace-by-the-Sea two weeks ago. But even he didn’t know about Quill’s nighttime activities.

  So, someone else must watch the caves. That’s why James had stopped to speak to Quill earlier that day before returning home to Eva.

  He and Quill had known each other in school before Quill had enlisted in the navy. Now his old friend was supposedly recuperating from a war injury in Dove Cottage, a fine stone house on the way out of the village. Only Quill’s manservant and James knew the injury had been healed for some time. Quill had a more important reason for remaining in Grace-by-the-Sea.

  “So, you’ve finally been ordered to marry,” Quill said after the two of them were nestled in leather armchairs near the stone hearth of his sitting room. The cottage had been sparsely furnished when Quill had leased it. He hadn’t seen fit to change the fact, for the room boasted only a sea chest against one paneled wall and a triangular wooden table between the two chairs. James couldn’t help noticing a new painting over the hearth, however: a view of a calm blue sea, the sun anointing the waves with gold, no doubt painted by Miss Archer.

  “No one’s ordered me,” James said. “You’ll be pleased to know Miss Faraday and I are marrying in direct defiance of his lordship’s wishes.”

  Quill’s brows rose into his thatch of coal-black hair. “You fell that hard.”

  James shifted on the chair. “I have the utmost respect and admiration for Miss Faraday.”

  “So much so that you continue to call her by her surname,” Quill pointed out, relaxing.

  “I call her by her first name in private,” James explained.

  Quill pressed a hand to his blue waistcoat. “Such daring! At this rate, you might kiss her by your fifth wedding anniversary.”

  “I didn’t come here to discuss my relationship with my betrothed,” James informed him. “There have been some developments at the castle. I thought you should know.”

  Quill stretched his legs toward the fire as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Don’t get your back up, old man. You may deal with your bride as you like. Now, what’s happening at the castle?”

  James explained about the intruder Eva had spotted and Mrs. Tully’s claim of talking with another stranger last night.<
br />
  “This is what she intercepted,” James said, pulling out the paper with the strange writing and handing it to Quill. “Someone had hidden it, though I’ve yet to determine where.”

  Quill frowned as he gazed down at the paper, then he stiffened. “It’s code. I’m sure of it. Both the French and the English are using something like it, so I can’t be sure whether it’s one of ours or one of theirs.”

  “If my castle is being used by English intelligence agents, I am honored,” James said. “Though I would have thought I might have been notified first.”

  “Trumpets at dawn?” Quill asked, setting down the cipher on his brown breeches. “Or a nice bowshot from a cannon?”

  James shook his head. “I know they can’t be so obvious. But how’d they get into the castle to begin with?”

  Quill gazed up at the ceiling as if consulting the dark beams that crossed it. “You’ve mentioned nothing of a break in, so they must have a key. And both Miss Faraday and Mrs. Tully saw the miscreant in the great hall, which isn’t too far from the front door as I recall.”

  “A far enough walk if one was trying to sneak in and out of a house unseen,” James allowed.

  “An empty house,” Quill reminded him. “At least, until recently.”

  James leaned back in the chair. “And you know nothing more about this.”

  Quill raised his hands. “Nothing. I swear.” He dropped his hands. “But it does make me wonder where else they’re visiting while in your castle.”

  James wondered as well. “You’re thinking of the caves. I checked, but I didn’t see anything but young Alex’s fire circle.”

  Quill nodded thoughtfully. “We’ve left little mark. They’d do the same.” He made a face. “I don’t like it. We know too little. I’ve heard nothing of an English intelligence agent working in the area. And if the French have discovered us…”

  The room grew darker. “I thought you might want to station a man in the caves. Lark and Alex will be watching the front of the castle.”