My Fair Guardian

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My Fair Guardian Page 24

by Suzanne G. Rogers


  To Bethany’s surprise, Jane merely shrugged. “Felicia attends a London girl’s school. I should like to go there as well.”

  Will’s eyebrows lifted. “What about Mr. Pace?”

  “He vastly prefers working for you, Mr. Winter.” Jane’s intelligent brow furrowed. “Since you’re so busy these days, perhaps he can be your secretary.”

  Will reached for his tea. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

  Bethany cocked her head. “But we’re planning to go back to Lansings Lodge in August, Jane You won’t be in London to attend school with Felicia.”

  “I can board at the school and perhaps go home with Felicia on the weekends,” Jane said.

  “I-I don’t know.” Bethany fidgeted with her napkin. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready to send you off on your own like that.”

  “You and Mr. Winter will be married before long and you’ll have each other.”

  Bethany exchanged a glance with Will. “My sister has our lives all worked out.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “All that remains is for you to choose our wedding date.”

  Jane wiggled. “May I be a bridesmaid? If it’s in August, I want to wear pink. Or maybe violet, I’m not sure. We can have the wedding breakfast in the garden or perhaps under a canopy on the lawn.”

  Bethany spoke without thinking. “A great many of our friends might be in Scotland in August, but I’ve no objection to a small wedding, I suppose.”

  Will stiffened. “Does this mean you’ve accepted me?”

  She opened and closed her mouth again without speaking. “Well, er, what I think…what I mean to say is—”

  He placed his hands flat on the table. “Merciful heavens, woman, put me out of my misery and consent to be my wife!”

  Jane frowned. “Yes, Bethany, you’re being dreadfully inconsiderate to poor Mr. Winter.”

  Bethany’s eyes widened. “I’m outnumbered, I see.” She bit her lip as she wondered how she was to extricate herself from the trap she just laid. As she met Will’s gaze, however, she could not imagine wishing to escape. “Mr. Winter, I accept your proposal.”

  He shot to his feet. “You’re quite sure?”

  She laughed. “I’m quite sure. And if I can arrange all the details, the wedding will be late August.”

  Will pulled Bethany to her feet and planted a long, lingering kiss on her lips.

  Jane buried her face in her napkin and a muffled “Eew” emerged.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Remains to be Seen

  With a pair of shears, Bethany cut out yet another of Will’s illustrations published in the Times and put it in the scrapbook she’d purchased solely for the purpose of displaying his work. As she set the book aside to show Will later, Richmond came into the library carrying a large envelope.

  “Excuse me, Miss Christensen. This just arrived for you by messenger.”

  Bethany took the envelope, but waited until the butler left before looking at it. When she saw it was from Marston Publishing, her heart sank. Mr. Marston would not have sent back her chapters if he meant to publish her novel. Her shoulders drooped with disappointment but she reminded herself to be brave. With a resigned sigh, she opened the envelope and found Mr. Marston’s letter on top.

  Miss Christensen,

  Thank you for the opportunity to read your work. Although Wylde Eyes has promise, it is not quite right for Marston Publishing at this time. Please don’t hesitate to submit something else to us again in the future.

  Very Sincerely,

  Wayne Marston

  “As rote a rejection as I could ever have imagined.” As tears pricked the backs of her eyelids, Bethany gritted her teeth and lifted her chin. “It doesn’t matter. I still have two other publishers who’ve not yet made a decision. If they rebuff me, I’ll just submit to more publishers.”

  She tried to slide the chapters and cover letter back into the envelope, but her hands were trembling too hard to manage the task. After taking a deep breath and failing to regain her composure she carried the sheaf of papers to the writing desk and dropped it into a drawer. As she was closing it, the crumpled note from Edgar Winter caught her eye. Ten days had passed since Will had received the missive, but he’d never replied—by letter or telegram. If Edgar had retaliated by sending his poisonous information to Magenta, Bethany had heard nothing about it. Of course, she hadn’t seen Magenta since the night of Lady Calloway’s fancy dress ball. Perhaps Nick had done as Will had suggested and he’d taken the woman to Scotland to get married.

  When she heard Will arrive, Bethany forced a smile to her lips and went to greet him. He handed off his hat to Richmond, wrapped her in his arms, and twirled her around in a circle.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “What has made you happy?”

  He put her down long enough to scoop her up. “Seeing you is enough to make any man happy, but as it so happens, I have news.”

  Will carried her into the drawing room, sat down with her in his lap, and gave her a kiss.

  “I’ve been thinking about that all day.”

  She teased him with her lips. “And here I imagined you were off creating artistic masterpieces.”

  He chuckled. “That too.” He kissed her tenderly. “You are my inspiration.”

  “You are my inspiration as well.” Bethany planted a kiss on his cheek. “Tell me your news.”

  “Mr. Edwardes was delighted with the poster I painted for Carmen up to Data, and he wants to engage me for the next production. In addition, he has recommended my artistic services to the theater managers at The Adelphi Theatre and the Savoy.”

  “That’s simply marvelous!”

  “I will also be working on paintings and sketches to show Mr. Fitzhugh, who owns an art gallery on Bond Street. We spoke at Lady Calloway’s fancy dress ball and he expressed an interest in my work.”

  Bethany deposited heartfelt kisses on his cheeks, forehead and lips. “What does it feel like to be a successful young artist?”

  He chuckled. “It feels a great deal better than being ignored, I must say.”

  “When I ring for tea, I’ll ask Mrs. Deedle to prepare extra treats. Your achievements deserve to be celebrated.”

  She made a move to get up, but his arms tightened. “I have a feast right here.”

  They kissed with increasing passion until she felt as if she would burn to a delicious crisp.

  “Ooh, won’t you stop that?” Jane’s voice made them break apart. “I’m hungry, so I came to see if you’d ordered tea.”

  Bethany giggled as she got to her feet. “I was just on my way to do exactly that.”

  Jane flopped down into a wing chair. “But you tripped and fell into Mr. Winter’s lap instead?”

  Will gave Jane a crooked grin. “You’ll understand a little more when you are older.”

  Jane made a grotesque face. “I’ll probably starve to death before then.”

  ∞∞∞

  In the drawing room after dinner that night, Jane produced her copy of Treasure Island. “Shall we read a chapter now?”

  Will looked at it askance. “I thought you left that book at Lansings Lodge?”

  Her expression turned innocent. “I believed that I had left it behind for the longest while, but I found it in my luggage earlier today. Isn’t that fortunate?”

  “Quite fortunate.” Will exchanged an amused glance with Bethany. “We will happily listen to you read.”

  Jane shook her head. “No, I vastly prefer the way you read.”

  He grimaced. “I take twice as long to read as you.”

  “But you perform all the voices and I don’t.”

  Will covered one of his eyes with a hand and conjured his best pirate’s voice. “‘Mate, it’s because I think gold dust of you—gold dust, and you may lay to that!’”

  Jane’s peals of laughter filled the drawing room. “That’s it! It’s Long John Silver, come to life.”

  Bethany smiled. “If you can find where we lef
t off the story, Mr. Winter may begin.”

  Her sister turned the pages until she reached the right chapter. “Here we are!”

  Before she could pass him the book, however, a knock came at the door.

  Will frowned. “Who could be visiting at this hour?”

  Bethany shook her head. “Everyone I care about is in this room, safe and sound, so it can’t be bad news.”

  They fell quiet as they listened to Richmond answer the door. After a short, muffled conversation, the butler brought a salver into the drawing room.

  “A telegram for Miss Christensen or Mr. Winter.”

  Will nodded toward Bethany. “Give it to Miss Christensen.”

  Bethany frowned. “Who is it from, Richmond?”

  “Mr. Troy.”

  Will made a growling sound. “He caught another burglar, I imagine.”

  Bethany opened the telegram. Her eyes darted back and forth as she read the short message within, and she grew pale. “Oh, no.” The piece of paper fluttered from her fingers to the oriental rug.

  Will guided Bethany to the sofa and helped her to sit. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  She gulped. “There’s been a fire at Lansings Lodge and Mr. Troy begs our return as soon as possible.”

  Jane’s mouth was open. “A fire? What sort of fire?”

  Bethany shook her head. “He didn’t elaborate.”

  Richmond’s eyebrows drew together. “Will there be any reply?”

  “Yes.” Will glanced at him. “Say that Miss Christensen and I will be on the eight o’clock train tomorrow morning.” He paused. “And keep this confidential, will you? I don’t want any of the staff to worry until we see what’s happened.”

  “Yes, sir.” The butler bowed and returned to the entryway to speak with the messenger.

  Jane bent to retrieve the telegram, staring at it in disbelief. “So is the entire household leaving London tomorrow?”

  Will had a protective arm around Bethany. “No, only your sister and I. Until we see what sort of repairs are necessary, it’s best if everyone else remains where it’s safe.”

  Jane bit her lip. “Perhaps it’s selfish, but I hope my room is undamaged.”

  Will sought to calm her fears. “Mr. Troy only mentioned a fire, but was not more specific. It might have been a grass fire, or a lightning strike on one of the outbuildings. We needn’t automatically assume the worst.”

  “No, that’s true.” Bethany brightened. “The house might not be involved whatsoever.”

  Will forced a smile to his lips. “I daresay the residence itself is perfectly fine. All the staff was here, so it’s not as if any errant embers from the stove or a fireplace could have caused a problem.”

  Bethany drew a deep breath and let her shoulders relax. “You are right, of course. We’ll be there mid-morning tomorrow and assess the situation then.”

  “Perhaps you should cancel all our engagements for the next few days, just to be sure.”

  “Yes, I will.” Bethany gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for being so level-headed.”

  “I wouldn’t be much of a guardian if I weren’t.” Will reached for Treasure Island. “Now, shall we hear a bit about Long John Silver and Jim Hawkins?”

  As Bethany and Jane settled in to listen, however, his mind was racing. Whatever Will said to the contrary, Mr. Troy would not have sent for them unless the fire had been terribly bad. He would not sleep a wink until he could see for himself that Lansings Lodge was perfectly sound.

  ∞∞∞

  Bethany bought a novel in the railway station the following morning, but it lay in her lap, unopened on the journey. Similarly, although Will had purchased a Dick Turpin penny dreadful, he stared at the same page for an hour. In contrast to the bravado he’d displayed the night before, as the train drew closer to Andover, the more wooden his expression became and his knuckles shone white as they clenched in his lap. Although her impulse was to offer words of comfort, she could think of none. The train ride passed in near silence.

  After they reached the Andover Railway Station, Will engaged a hansom and they began the last leg of their journey. By then, Bethany was nearly sick with fear. Despite the warm summer temperature, she was cold and numb. Unable to withstand the pressure, she finally reached for Will’s hand. As he took it, he gave her a worried glance.

  “You’re trembling. Forgive me, Bethany. I’ve been thinking only of myself this entire time. Are you all right?”

  “No. I don’t know what I’m going to say to Jane if Lansings Lodge is gone. She’s had such little permanence in her life and I don’t want our home taken from her.”

  “I understand a little how you are feeling. I never really had a home before Lansings Lodge—or a family, for that matter.”

  Bethany squeezed his hand. “You will always have Jane and me. As to Lansings Lodge, that remains to be seen.”

  The progress of their cab seemed so slow, she wondered if she could run faster than the horse’s plodding pace. Will must have felt the same way because he opened the trap door overhead to address the driver seated on the sprung seat.

  “It’ll be an extra five shillings for you if we get there in short order.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The driver clucked his tongue and his horse finally began to move as if it had a destination. Bethany fixed her gaze up ahead, yearning to get a glimpse of the house through the trees. When she finally spied the brick wall of the south wing, a blessed sense of relief made her collapse back in her seat.

  “It’s there! Lansings Lodge is still standing.”

  Will said nothing, but merely leaned forward in his seat. The wind shifted and she suddenly smelled the acrid odor of burning wood. As the odor became increasingly noxious, Will muttered a curse. Filled with a sense of foreboding, Bethany sat up once more. When she could see the wall of Lansings Lodge was unattached to anything else, her view filled with little black dots and she swooned.

  ∞∞∞

  Will patted Bethany’s cheek to bring her back to consciousness. “I haven’t got any smelling salts, so you’re just going to have to bear up.”

  “I’m all right,” she murmured, but in the next moment, she burst into tears.

  Will held her tight against him as the hansom turned into the open, newly installed wrought-iron gates. The hansom rolled up the slight incline toward the circular drive, and the devastation was laid bare. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to waken himself from the nightmare, to no avail. The residence he’d come to treasure as his home was completely gone and only rubble remained in its place. A broad swath of grass around the property had been blackened, and the pristine, manicured shrubs were now only shriveled stumps.

  As the carriage came to a stop, Will glanced at a sobbing Bethany. “Stay in the cab for now. There may be smoldering embers underfoot.”

  Will removed his hat and stepped down onto the gravel drive, but movement of the carriage made him nearly lose his footing.

  The driver called out, “Sorry, sir, but the horse is skittish from the smell of smoke. I’ll park the carriage down by the gate if you don’t mind.”

  Will pointed toward the stables, which seemed undamaged. “If you park the rig over there, you can avail yourself of water and feed for the horse. We may be here a while, but I’ll pay you for your time.”

  The driver touched his hat and did as he was bid. As Will walked toward the ruins, Mr. Troy emerged from the carriage house and hastened to join him. Will grimaced when he noticed the bandages wrapped around the man’s left arm.

  “You’re injured!”

  Mr. Troy’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. “Say nothing of that, Mr. Winter.”

  “Have you been seen by a physician?”

  He nodded. “Aye.”

  “Miss Christensen must lay down in the carriage house. She’s had quite a shock.”

  “Of course.”

  After Will made sure that Bethany was resting comfortably on a couch, he accompanied Mr
. Troy back to the ruins to survey the carnage. Remnants of fireplaces and chimneys stuck up here and there, but most of the walls had fallen over. The stench of burnt wood hung in the air and made Will’s eyes water.

  He glanced at the groundskeeper and shook his head. “How did this happen?”

  “The day before yesterday, at about half past four in the morning, I woke up to the sound of a woman screaming.”

  Will peered at him. “A woman?”

  “Aye. I thought it was a fox at first…until I saw flickering light. When I realized a fire had broken out in the house, I pulled on my clothes and sounded the alarm.” He gulped. “By the time I reached the house, the woman who had been screaming was crumpled on the ground with a broken neck. Near as I could figure, she jumped out of a window upstairs, before the flames could reach her.”

  “Did you recognize the lady?”

  As a muscle worked in his jaw, Mr. Troy shook his head. “She’s at the undertaker if you want to see her but I’m not certain she can be properly identified.” He cleared his throat several times before he could continue. “She fell on her face, you see, and…” his voice trailed off.

  Will shuddered. “So you think a random lady broke into the house, set it on fire, and was unable to escape except by way of the upper story window?”

  Mr. Troy shook his head and his shoulders moved up and down in a helpless shrug. “The constable and I found a wagon around back, full of items from the house.”

  “You think the lady must have been a burglar?”

  Mr. Troy nodded. “Aye. She may have had an accomplice, but we haven’t found him yet.”

  “Show me the wagon.”

  The groundskeeper stuck a thumb toward the stables. “We unhitched the horse and brought the wagon over there with the items inside. It’s all that’s left of Lansings Lodge, unless we can find something else in the rubble.”

  Will strode across the grounds, past the hansom and its driver, until he reached a sturdy wagon. Underneath a sheltering tarp were pillow sacks full of silver serving pieces, candlestick holders and the like. He was sickened to realize the thief or thieves had burned down a priceless residence for the sake of treasure worth perhaps a few hundred pounds.

 

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