I pushed off of the door and headed toward the old wing, a silly smile refusing to leave my lips.
"Princess?" Edmund's voice called from behind me.
My smile faded as I turned to see Edmund standing just outside the drawing room doors. "Yes, Lord Rockwell?"
He shifted, struggling for words. "I really feel that I must warn you in the most vehement way..."
"Warn me of what?" I prompted, though I knew precisely to what he referred.
"You are vulnerable right now." His eyes skimmed my body as if expecting to find injury or fragility. I cringed back a step. "And I would hate to see someone taking advantage of you."
"You're right. I am vulnerable, and no one realizes that more than I. Thus, I am also on my guard. The moment I actually see James doing anything that concerns me, I will take note. I assure you, I am in no way inclined to ignore selfish and manipulative behavior when I see it." I looked him up and down, hoping to convey that those were traits I had seen in him on occasion.
He drew his shoulders back. "It would be a shame if you didn't see those things until it was too late. James Sutton is a—"
"I don't care about your opinion of James. You've made your feelings clear, and I've told you I will be on my guard. Good day, Edmund." I departed without waiting for him to offer the appropriate bow.
I was halfway down the corridor when I heard the hauntingly familiar sound of the front door being thrown open with a tremendous amount of force. I whirled as an angry voice bellowed, "ROCKWELL!"
I shrank, my feet moving backwards, taking me to the nearest wall. My fingers connected with a tapestry and I fisted my hands in it, trying to disappear into the mural of thread. I didn't recognize the voice, and the anger wasn't directed at me, but the tone and volume and timbre rang in my head just like every time Damian had lost control of his temper. The few times that he had become violent had been preceded by just such a bellowing.
Sinking to the floor behind a table, I watched Edmund's back as he strode to meet the intruder head on, having forgotten me. My heart pulsed in my neck and pounded in my chest as I fought against the irrational fear. I had guards. I had servants whose loyalty lay with me alone.
I jumped a little as I saw a man in my periphery, but it was only Leo. He stepped in front of me, taking up position on the other end of the table without a word. My heart slowed a little.
Just as Edmund neared the end of the corridor, James strode around the corner. My heart flipped in relief for a moment until I recognized the look of outrage on his face. He had been the one to yell with such fury. As soon as he saw Edmund, his eyes narrowed and he pointed a finger at his face. "You." The word held a quiet fury. "You would stoop so low?"
Falstone rounded the corner, his eyes wary, his stance on guard.
Edmund gave a mocking bow. "Welcome, James. It's a pleasure to see you as well."
"Don't patronize me. You sent a boy, a mere child, to spy on me."
"That's a ludicrous suggestion," Edmund sneered.
I gripped the table top and pulled myself to my feet, pushing down the fear. Fighting the need to run, to hide, to cower. I took one step forward before James's eyes fell on me.
"Marilee." He strode toward me, but despite my efforts to hold my ground, I fell back a step.
Falstone cut him off, holding out a hand to indicate that James should stop.
James halted. "Falstone?" His face was perplexed and impatient.
"You really expect me to let you pass when she is terrified of you?" Falstone wasn't being rude or accusatory. He just...said it.
James fell back. "Marilee?" There was so much uncertainty in his voice.
I fought to clear my throat and speak without my voice quavering. "You were here to speak with Edmund. Do not let me interrupt."
"Yes," Edmund jumped in, sounding nearly gleeful. "Do continue with your wild accusations."
It took James a moment, but he managed to pull his eyes away from me and focus on Edmund. "Why are you employing children to spy on me?"
"I haven't the least idea what you're speaking of."
"Boy." James's voice was brisk and commanding. "Come here."
A tiny figure separated himself from the shadows and shuffled forward, shoulders hunched and eyes on the ground. His name was Johnny, and he was the son of one of my new cooks. He ran messages and fetched things for anyone who asked. No doubt Edmund had won him over with a simple offer of coin. He was terrified.
"Falstone, bring Johnny to me," I insisted without thought. I only knew that I wanted that child to be within my reach and out of the reach of either Edmund or James.
Falstone crossed to Johnny and picked him up. The boy knew and trusted Falstone, so he came willingly.
James was stunned. "I was not going to harm him." He was insulted and hurt by my actions. "I'm trying to get to the truth."
"By intimidating a child?" I hadn't meant for my words to be so harsh, but the way that Johnny latched on and clung to my leg brought on a wave of anger.
James pulled a hand down his face, forcing a deep breath and blowing it out. "I only wanted him to confirm that Lord Rockwell was the one who asked him to follow me about."
"I would be happy to speak with him myself," I suggested. "But I won't allow either of you to badger him."
"It's a simple question, Princess."
My chest seized up at James's cold tone and use of my formal title. "He's a child!" I shouted before grabbing Johnny's hand and pulling him toward the kitchens.
It was eerily silent behind me until James shouted, "You blackguard!"
I spun just in time to see James's fist plowing into Edmund's face. Recoiling in shock, I stared as they grappled for a few moments before the guards pulled them apart.
"Get him out of here!" Edmund spat as he pulled out a cloth to press against his bleeding nose.
"This is not your home anymore, Ed," James replied with equal venom.
The guards looked to me, and I could only nod, indicating that they should escort James away. Whatever his reasons, I could not abide violence in my home.
He tried to shake them off when they tugged on his arms.
"James," I called.
He turned to me.
"Please go."
His face was stricken and pained as he stopped fighting and allowed the guards to pull him away.
My heart ached with fear and shame. Fear that James might be something other than what he claimed. Shame that I was considering such a thing.
Edmund wandered closer, dabbing at his face, which held residual disgust. "I did warn you, Princess."
"Stay away from me!" I hissed. "You're no better than he is." I walked away, feeling utterly alone, despite Johnny's small hand in mine. I left him in the kitchens and returned to my room, locking everyone out. If Edmund came knocking on my door, he would receive a large dose of my wrath. I almost hoped he would do just that.
I changed from my slightly damp riding habit to a day dress and paced my room. No one disturbed me. I was left in solitude and the longer that I stayed penned in my room, the more anxious I became. Where had my perfect day gone? What happened to my contented sigh?
I knew that James had reason to be angry. I had no doubt that Edmund had convinced Johnny to play spy, but it was more than just anger that James had shown. It felt very akin to wrath, and had resulted in violence. What could have possibly driven him to attack Edmund in such a way? Edmund had been arrogant, certainly, but that was nothing new.
Why such a violent reaction to a young boy observing his comings and goings? Was he really so worried about his actions being known? Did he have something he wished to keep hidden?
The knot of anxiety tightened further. I crossed to my door and threw it open, effectively startling Marcus, who waited across the hall. I stalked to the kitchens and found Johnny, forcing myself into calm reassurance as I approached him.
"Johnny?"
He looked up and grinned, then seemed to remember his manners, and jumped
to his feet to execute a sloppy but adorable bow. "Evening, Princess."
"Good evening, young sir. Can you tell me what it was that Lord Rockwell asked you to do for him?"
"He was training me," he answered without hesitation.
"Training you?"
"To become a guard when I'm older! I'd get to work for Lord Rockwell, and I'd get to keep you safe 'n' all." He blushed a little.
"I see. And what did you have to do for this training?"
"I was supposed to keep track o' Mister Sutton. So I did. Or I tried, that is. It was hard the first couple days. Course, I didn't do so well. Mr. Sutton...see, he was always on that horse of his, and I only had my own feet." He gave the floor a morose stare, as if cursing his lack of horseflesh. Then his head popped up and his eyes were suddenly bright. "But I did find something!"
"And what was that?"
"A shortcut 'tween this house and his. I could get there and back a lot faster after I found it." He grinned and I did my best to return the smile.
"That was very clever of you."
His eyes filled with glee. "You think so?"
"I'm certain you did just as you were told."
The bustle of the kitchen continued, but all chatter had ceased, and each servant did their best to listen in. I glanced up, and everyone turned intent eyes back to their work.
"Oh, I did! I tried to find out interesting things about Mr. Sutton. I watched him at his house. He talked lots with his servants." He rubbed his nose with the palm of his hand. "It was a little strange, 'cause gentle folk don't usually get to yakkin' with their hired help."
I felt a smile soften my eyes. This bit of information didn't surprise me in the least. Though I wondered if I should stop Johnny from reporting James's movement, I couldn't bring myself to interrupt him.
"There was one maid that he talked to for a long time behind the house. She was crying and he was being real nice, but then he got pretty mad, and that made the maid cry more."
What maid? And why was she crying, and why was he being 'real nice'? And what did Johnny mean by 'real nice' anyway?
"But I think he must have said sorry, cause she seemed all right after awhile. And all them horses he has. I never seen anyone ride like that mister can. And he ran that horse a lot. He always seemed like he was in a hurry to get back here. And he was always coming back. He only came in the house twice, but he was always sitting off in the trees or at the end of the lane. Sometimes I couldn't find him 'cause he'd be behind the stables or off by the stream or something. That's why he found me today. He had seen me a couple times when he rode down the lane, but today he caught me hiding behind a rock." His feet wrapped around the legs of his chair as his fingers curled under the seat.
My heart sank, seeing his cowed reaction. "Was he very angry with you?" Please say no.
His shoulders lifted up by his ears for a moment. "Not at first. First he was just curious. But then when I told him I was training to become a guard for Lord Rockwell, he got real angry."
"I see." Perhaps his anger had nothing at all to do with being watched, but being watched on Edmund's orders. However, that still failed to explain his violence. I also wanted to ask him more about the maid that James had spoken with at length, but I didn't. I might not have stopped Johnny from telling me what he'd seen, but that didn't mean I had to dig for more information. James deserved his privacy. "Thank you, Johnny. And will you do something for me?"
"Anything! I like being able to say I serve a princess."
I held in a laugh at his enthusiasm. "Will you let me know if Lord Rockwell asks you to perform any other secret tasks?"
His nod was so vigorous, I feared he would make his head ache.
"You're a good lad." I ruffled his hair and returned to my room, only slightly less anxious.
Chapter Twenty
IT HAD BEEN eight days since our ride around the property, since James had burst into my home and fought with Edmund.
I had asked him to leave, so I shouldn't have been surprised when he did not come to visit me, or send an invitation to dine with him and his mother. So I had sent my own invitation a few days ago, but it had gone unanswered. The silence was unnerving. I couldn't think of any reason that he would be so aloof, especially when he had seemed so reluctant to depart. I had missed him. In fact I was fairly certain that I was falling in love with him, and I had thought—no, I had been quite sure—that he returned my feelings.
The uncertainty was eating at me. Not only my uncertainty about his feelings for me, but my uncertainty about him, about what he might be hiding, about the maid.
I finally decided to take Angel and go to Sutton manor myself. I donned my riding habit, the same one that had been drenched in the stream, and left my room. I made it to the entry hall and was nearly at the door when Edmund's jovial voice found me.
"Your Highness!"
I rolled my eyes. He had been overly talkative and upbeat the past week, and I was finding it difficult to take him seriously. He acted as if the scene between him and James had never happened. He never spoke to me of Johnny's assignment, simply went on as if everything were the same. Except that he was oddly happy.
I turned to face him, a smile stretched taught on my unwilling mouth. "Lord Rockwell. Good day to you."
"Going for a ride?"
"Yes, I thought I would ride over to Sutton manor to see if Mrs. Sutton wanted any company."
I thought he would object to the idea, but he only said, "Ah." I was immediately suspicious. "While I am glad that you have found a female acquaintance, I'm afraid that neither Mr. Sutton nor his mother are in residence at the moment."
"Have you tried to visit them?" That seemed unlikely, considering his ill feelings toward James.
"No. He stopped by. Wanted me to know that he'd be gone, and asked that I lend a hand if any of his staff got into a bind."
"He asked a favor of you?" I made no attempt to hide my skepticism.
He nodded.
That didn't make sense. Edmund was the last person that James would ask for help. "Will they be returning soon?"
"I doubt it. He said he didn't know how long he'd be gone, but that a very close acquaintance needed his assistance. Naturally he went to her aid as quickly as he could."
"Thank you for letting me know." I turned to the door, unwilling to take Edmund's word for it, especially when he seemed so happy to give me the news.
"Yes, he's always been more than willing to help a damsel in distress," he called after me.
I walked out, refusing to respond. I reached the stables and mounted in agitation, barely waiting for Marcus to sit his own horse before trotting Angel out of the stables and onto the drive. I kept up a steady pace, without pushing my limits. As I trotted down the tree-lined lane leading to Sutton manor, I already knew. Edmund had been right. James had left. Still I didn't stop until I had reached the house. A groom came out and caught the reins of my horse.
"Can I help ye, my lady?"
"Is your master at home?"
He shook his head, "Hasn' been for more'n a week, my lady."
"When do you expect his return?"
He shrugged. "Don't rightly know. I could ask the steward."
"Please do."
He bowed and hurried around the side of the house, no doubt to find the kitchen entry.
I looked to Marcus, wondering if he thought I was being ridiculous, but his face was appropriately passive, his eyes scanning the horizon.
The groom jogged around the corner. "All the steward knows is that Mr. Sutton was called away 'bout something urgent. He can't say when he'll be comin' back."
"Thank you."
"Sorry I couldn't be more help." He bowed again and I pulled Angel around.
James really had been called away on urgent business. No one knew when he would return, and he hadn't thought to tell me about it. I didn't know how Edmund knew of James's departure, but I was certain that he hadn't heard it from James. But why had James not told me? Was I not wo
rth even a hasty note of farewell?
I didn't bother coaxing Angel into a trot, instead letting her walk, not caring about the time it would take to return home. All that waited for me there was an overzealous brother-in-law who either didn't realize he was unwelcome, or didn't care.
***
Dinner with Edmund was usually a polite affair. We would speak of trivial things or even sit in a mutual silence. This evening was different. Edmund glanced at his plate only long enough to get a bite or two between his questions. Question after question about my family, my upbringing, my hobbies, talents, likes and dislikes. His focus was such that I was barely able to eat my meal for all the answers I had to give. There was a boyish intensity about the way he asked, an eagerness that left me wary.
For the most part, our interactions of late had been stilted and tense. And now, with James gone off somewhere, my confidence and bravery were wavering. Each day felt a little more as if Edmund were the master of the house and I was becoming a guest. It wasn't that he had taken to commanding the staff, just that he had inserted himself so fully into the space that Damian had occupied and dominated.
My argument with James kept running through my head, demanding that I make a choice. I wanted Edmund to leave, but his feeling comfortable in the house where he had spent his summers was hardly justification for throwing him out of it. It was my own misgivings and insecurity that made me uncomfortable.
So the inquisition continued, and I did my best to answer politely without letting him overwhelm me.
"I wish I had known you before." He settled back in his chair with a glass of wine cradled in his fingers. His dark eyes were heavy and his gaze unwavering.
The room felt overly warm. "And why is that?"
He gave a shrug. "The way you describe yourself is difficult for me to imagine. I think I would have enjoyed watching you at a ball or a feast."
"You don't strike me as the sort of gentleman who would have fallen for my silliness." I tossed the comment out without thinking.
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