Mr. Troy stood nearby, an uneasy expression on his face. “The lady’s pockets had been stuffed with small items. She’d also fastened several necklaces around her neck and was wearing a great many rings on her fingers. The constable and I took everything off her and kept it for you.”
Mr. Troy unwrapped a cloth square to reveal a mound of jewelry. Will focused on a familiar-looking gold band with etching on the surface. As he picked it up, he felt a shudder go through him.
“No, it couldn’t be hers.”
Mr. Troy glanced at the ring. “The constable and I assumed that ring was Miss Bethany’s, but maybe it was the lady’s.”
Will shrugged off his thought, put the ring back on the pile, and glanced at the rest of the objects. He gasped when he noticed Frederick’s portrait.
“Why would the thieves wish to steal that?”
An expression of grief passed over Mr. Troy’s face. “They didn’t. When I realized the house might be done for, I ran inside to rescue Mr. Leopold’s painting.”
Will peered at him. “Are you insane? You could have been killed!”
A tear rolled down the groundskeeper’s face, unchecked. “Maybe I should have been. Mr. Leopold was like a father to me and I let his house burn down.”
The fellow walked off a few paces in an effort to get his emotions under control.
Will took a deep breath and let it out. “Never think that, Mr. Troy. A human life is worth more than bricks and mortar.”
Unfortunately, Will’s words had the opposite effect he’d intended. The groundskeeper let out a sob and walked off with his shoulders heaving. Feeling leaden, Will continued around the front of the wagon, looking for any additional clues as to its owner. When he spotted a black whip coiled underneath the seat, bile shot up into his mouth and he felt himself grow dizzy. He grasped the whip, which he knew would have a set of initials carved on the end of the handle. When his suspicions were confirmed, he slumped down onto the ground with his back against the wagon wheel and stared out at nothing. After a short while, laughter erupted from his lips and he could not stop. He laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face and he could not catch his breath.
The hansom driver crept over to peer at him. “Er…are you all right, sir?”
Will could not speak but he shook his head and waved the man away. Another round of laughter seized him and his mid-section began to cramp in earnest. Had anyone in the history of the world ever laughed himself to death? Will fervently, desperately, ardently prayed he would be the first.
∞∞∞
Every time Bethany tried to rouse herself from the couch, another wave of malaise sent her spinning to the depths of despair. It didn’t help that the stench of destruction was everywhere, making it difficult to breath or even to think. After all she’d been through with the loss of her parents and Mr. Leopold, she would have supposed she could handle anything. With the annihilation of Lansings Lodge, however, she felt like a mewling infant, helpless to stop crying.
Someone knocked. “Miss?”
Bethany glanced over to discover the hansom driver standing in the doorway. “Yes?”
“Sorry to disturb you at such a bad time, miss, but your young man is in some distress.”
She shot to her feet. “Where is he?”
“I’ll take you to him.”
Bethany blotted her eyes as she accompanied the driver from the carriage house, averting her gaze from the ruins of her former home. The man pointed at a wagon parked near the stables, where Will was sitting on the grass, laughing.
“He seems to be having some sort of fit.”
Bethany picked up her skirts and ran across gravel, dirt, and grass. When she reached Will, rivulets of moisture were pouring from the corners of his closed eyes and his hysterical laughter seemed to tear at her soul. For some inexplicable reason, he was gripping an old black whip in one hand.
“Will?” She pried the whip from his fingers. “Please stop laughing, Will. You’re frightening me.”
His eyes opened and his strange mirth faded. “I should frighten you. I’m dangerous. I’m not your guardian, Bethany. I’m your worst nightmare.”
She shook her head, more worried than ever. Had he lost his mind?
Will lurched to his feet and drew his sleeve across his face. “Go back to London and stay as far away from me as possible. I’m bad luck.”
He strode off toward the smoldering pile of scorched bricks and blackened, fallen rafters with his fists clenched at his sides. Bethany stared at his back, bewildered. The stress of losing Lansings Lodge was bad enough, but something else was at work here. As Will disappeared from view, she glanced down at the black whip he’d been clutching in his hands. The object looked quite old, with the leather splitting in spots, but she could still make out the letters on the end of the handle—EW. Almost instantly, she flashed back to the thin lines she’d seen on Will’s back and she knew the whip had tasted his flesh.
“Edgar Winter.”
Her mind reeled. If Edgar Winter had made good on his threats, it was little wonder Will was unable to cope. Perplexed, she beckoned to the hansom driver.
He hastened over, hat in hand. “Yes, miss?”
“Do you know anything about what happened just before Mr. Winter lost his composure?”
The man shifted his weight. “I like to mind my own business, but voices carry.” He related the entirely of the conversation he’d overheard. “Your young man was very kind to the other chap…Mr. Troy, I think he is called. But once that fellow was overcome, he went off toward the woods.” He pointed toward a grove at one side of the property. “When your fellow had a look at that whip afterward, he couldn’t stop laughing.” The driver produced a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes. “It chilled me, through and through.”
“Thank you,” she managed. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Opportune Moments
Bethany felt as if she were wading through water as she headed off to find where Will had gone. She forced herself to look at the remnants of Lansings Lodge as she walked alongside, holding back tears when poignant memories intruded into the present. Very little of the surrounding property had been burned in the conflagration, fortunately, and when she reached the garden in back, she was happy to discover it was intact.
Will sat on a marble bench on one of the paths, slumped over with his head in his hands. The gravel crunched underneath her shoes as she approached, but he made no sign he heard. Bethany sat on the bench, put her arm around him, and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry to learn about Agnes’s untimely end. You thought of her as a mother for many years and I’m certain her loss is a blow.” Will made no response, so Bethany pressed on. “Do you suppose Edgar ran off when he realized she was dead?”
“No.” Will sat up slowly and gestured toward what was left of the house. “He’s in there somewhere. He probably thought Agnes was safe in the wagon when he set the fire, and ran in to save her when he realized she was trapped.”
Bethany swallowed. “He had one decent impulse in his life, at least.”
Will sighed…a long, slow sound of agony. “This is all my fault, but apologizing doesn’t begin to address the magnitude of your loss.”
“My loss? It’s your loss as well.”
“If I hadn’t accidentally found that codicil, Lansings Lodge would be entirely yours. I’ve never faced something like this before and I simply don’t know what to do.”
She gave him a puzzled glance. “This isn’t your fault whatsoever.”
“If you had never met me, you would still have Lansings Lodge.”
“Yes, that’s true. I would also be living a passionless, colorless life, flailing about, looking for a purpose that would never become clear to me.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “If the fault lies with anyone, let it be with Mr. Leopold.”
“What did my father have to do with this disaster?”
“Far more t
han you did. He should never have conceived a child with a woman who was not his wife. Once the child was born, he should never have given the care and upbringing of that child over to a couple who were unable to care for him.”
“Frederick thought he was doing the right thing by hiding me from Captain Aldersgate.”
“Undoubtedly, but he should have shouldered that responsibility himself.” She paused. “None of us are without fault, but above everything else, that failure lessens my opinion of him.”
Will shook his head. “I have nothing to give you any longer, Bethany. The residual estate is inadequate to rebuild, even if I walked away from it all and let you have everything.”
She took his hand. “We cannot rebuild Lansings Lodge as it was, but then it was rather too large and unwieldy. Instead, we’ll build a more modest country home suitable to our needs. We can even build the perfect art studio, exactly to your specifications.”
“We haven’t enough cash.”
“We have more than enough surrounding land to either sell outright or lease to farmers. Mr. Leopold should have done it long ago and not let things lay fallow, but he never had a head for business.”
Will peered at her. “Can you be truly content with a man who has cost you everything?”
“We’re already established the opposite. Besides which, Jane once told me I should remove everything that was Mr. Leopold’s and start over or I would always feel like a guest at Lansings Lodge.” She gave the ruins a rueful glance. “It seems I have no choice now.”
“You have a choice.” Will rose and walked off a few paces. “Tell me it’s over between us and I will continue on as your guardian in a disinterested manner until you are wed to a man of means.”
She joined him. “You may continue as my guardian until I am wed—to you.”
A spark of hope lit his features. “You’ll still have me then?”
“Oh, I’ll have you.” She slid her arms around his waist. “The only challenge will be to behave myself until we exchange our vows.”
Will kissed her like a thirsty man who has roamed the desert without sustenance. As he claimed her lips, he made every nerve in her body waken and yearn for more. His kisses found the tender skin on her neck, wrenching a moan from deep within her throat. When he finally released her, his eyes smoldered with a fire of a different sort than had claimed her former home.
“Oh, you’ll behave yourself, Miss Christensen, and I’ll hold you to it. I want your wedding night to be something you’ll never forget as long as you live.”
Her lips curved in a smile and she traced the curve of his jaw with a fingertip. “I daresay neither of us will forget a single, glorious moment.”
∞∞∞
It was not yet nine o’clock at night when Bethany and Will arrived at Summerland. As servants unloaded several crates from the cab, Will brought Frederick Leopold’s portrait and his framed sketch of Jane into the house and put them down in the drawing room. Bethany had a bundled blanket cradled in her arms.
“I’m glad you remembered to pick up Jane’s sketch from Mr. Astley,” she said. “It will help soften the bad news.”
“Only a trifle.” Will nodded toward the bundle. “I think that will soften it the most.”
Jane came tearing down the stairs and dashed into the drawing room with her pigtails flying. “I wasn’t sure if you would return tonight so I’ve already eaten dinner. How is Lansings Lodge?”
Bethany smiled. “We can talk about all that in the morning. You’ll be happy to know Mr. Winter and I spoke with Mr. Southerly and he’s to read the banns. Therefore, you may now write to Liza as much as you wish.”
Jane smiled. “I’m very glad. I have so much to tell her, but I don’t think it can all fit in one letter.”
Bethany’s gaze flickered toward Will. “Mr. Winter and I brought you presents.”
“Really?” Jane’s eyes widened. “What?”
He gestured toward the sketch. “My portrait of you, for one.”
She darted over and picked up the framed sketch. “How absolutely splendid! I shall hang this in my room.” Jane leaned the sketch against the wall. “What else did you bring?”
Will chuckled. “Have a seat and close your eyes.”
Jane plopped down on the couch and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m ready!”
Bethany put the bundle on her sister’s lap. “You may open your eyes now.”
As Jane stared down at the blanket, it moved. She gasped, “What’s inside?”
Will bit back a smile. “Not a pony.”
Jane peeled away the edges of the blanket to reveal a sleepy, sable-colored spaniel. “Oh, my!” She enfolded the wiggling creature in her arms. “He’s beautiful! I shall name him Harold Pumpleshook.”
Will looked at her askance. “The puppy is a female.”
“Oh, all right. Henrietta Pumpleshook, then.”
“Take your puppy down to the kitchen so the cook can find her something to eat.” Bethany sniffed the blanket and grimaced. “I daresay Henrietta needs to go for a walk, too.”
Will produced a leash and a tiny collar from his pocket. “These go with the spaniel.”
Jane took the gifts and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.” When she kissed Bethany on the cheek, she gave her elder sister a piercing glance. “Lansings Lodge is very bad, isn’t it?”
Bethany cocked her head. “Why would you think that?”
“Both you and Mr. Winter smell like an ash scuttle.” Jane nuzzled Henrietta. “And you wouldn’t have brought me a puppy otherwise.”
Bethany bit her lip. “It’s very bad, but say nothing to any of the servants for now.”
Jane nodded, even as her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t be sad, dearest. There’s an opportunity for us to start anew. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”
Jane eyes were watering and she gulped back tears as she headed off with the little pup wrapped in her arms.
Will lowered his voice. “Your sister is awfully bright.”
“I know.” Bethany sighed. “It’s nearly impossible to fool her on anything.”
Richmond entered the drawing room. “Pardon me, but will either of you care for dinner?”
Will nodded. “I would like something light, if it can be managed. Perhaps a bowl of soup and toasted bread with cheese?”
“That sounds heavenly,” Bethany said.
Will cleared his throat. “Richmond, after Miss Christensen and I have had a bite to eat, will you gather together the servants? We would like to address them.”
The butler bowed. “It will be arranged.” He disappeared down the hall.
Bethany removed the jacket of her traveling suit and unpinned her hat. “I’m not looking forward to breaking the bad news to the staff. I daresay most of them will have lost personal treasures to the blaze.”
Will pulled her into his arms and gave her a gentle kiss. “I lost myself for a short while, but you helped me find my way back. We’ll help them, too.”
∞∞∞
As Bethany and Will sat down to eat, she noticed his furrowed brow. “You seem pensive.”
“I confess I am a trifle pensive, but I’m more preoccupied than anything else. I’m trying to decide whether or not I should return to Lansings Lodge tomorrow to supervise the recovery efforts or whether I should meet with the attorney first. I wish there were two of me.”
“Recovery efforts?”
“The wreckage must be dismantled as carefully as possible to discover Edgar’s body, for one, and to preserve any valuables that might have escaped the blaze. I also wish to reclaim anything we can incorporate in the new residence, such as bricks and marble mantelpieces.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Our home won’t be Lansings Lodge any longer, but we’ll have preserved a bit of its history.”
Richmond brought in a salver laden with envelopes. “You left before the morning post arrived, Miss Christensen.”
She put down her spoon to glance th
rough the post—stiffening when she discovered one from Gerard & Company Publishing.
Will swallowed a bite of bread with melted cheese. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Bethany forced herself to laugh. “The Second Ghost of Rejection, I fear.” She shrugged. “I met the First Ghost of Rejection the other day and I can’t say I enjoyed his visit.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Who rejected you?”
“Marston Publishing, in a terse letter.”
Will scowled. “I’m glad you needn’t deal with the chap any longer. I didn’t care for him anyway.”
She steeled herself as she slit the envelope open and read the missive inside. Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes widened.
Will peered at her. “Good tidings or bad?”
Her lips trembled as she met his gaze. “It seems I’m to have a book published.”
Will whooped so loudly that Richmond came rushing in. “Is anything amiss, Mr. Winter?”
Will shook his head and laughed. “Not at all, old boy. Miss Christensen is to be a published author.”
Richmond put a triumphant fist in the air. “Yes!” He recovered his composure quickly and put his hand down. “I’m very happy for you, miss.” The butler bowed his way from the dining room.
Bethany beamed. “That’s not all, Will. Mr. Gerard wants your illustrations as well. We’re to be published together.”
Will took her hand and kissed it. “Better and better. I could not be more proud of you, Bethany. Let this be the first of many novels you will publish.”
“Let this be the beginning of a beautiful partnership between us.”
“Hear, hear.” His smile became tender. “In more ways than one.”
∞∞∞
After Will entered his room, he removed his jacket and glanced toward the lavatory. He couldn’t wait to wash the odor of smoke from his body, yet tomorrow he would have to endure the experience again. Mr. Troy was still too demoralized to do the job of clearing the wreckage effectively and indeed had offered to resign several times already.
My Fair Guardian Page 25