by Judith James
“I thought so.”
“What do you know of him?” Robert’s tone was mild.
“He is sadistic, vicious, a murderer, but a dab hand at racing and cards. He cal s himself Colonel, though he was cashiered from the army a decade ago. He’s been twice charged with rape, and once with assault, though he’s scampered away unscathed from each charge.” scampered away unscathed from each charge.” I should have killed him years ago. Who else has he harmed because of my failure? “Is there some reason Charles would want to reward him?”
“Perhaps. I’m not as close to His Majesty as I once was.
Charles is rather indolent when it comes to paperwork. The devil is in the details. Literal y in this case. I doubt he knows anything about the man’s crimes or he’d never be welcomed at court. Harris is wealthy, owns several brothels and has vast properties in Lancashire and Scotland. He’s wel connected and wel protected as he’s owed significant sums of money by significant men. He has made several generous contributions to His Majesty’s cause. What’s real y curious is why he should have any interest in you.” Robert nodded. His fingers unconsciously stroked the hilt of his sword. “You’ve been very helpful, Lord Rivers. You have my thanks. Do you know where I might find him?”
“Again, I ask why?”
“I have business of a private nature with him, and it would seem he also has business with me.”
“There can be no good business with him, Nichols.” Wil iam eyed Robert’s sword pointedly. “And the king is dead set against dueling. You have your lands and you have the king’s gratitude and goodwil . And the girl…she is charming, is she not?”
Robert gave him a sharp look.
“Mmm. Yes, I thought so. I refer, of course, to her winning nature. She was far too selective and overchaste to make a convincing courtesan. You have stumbled upon a prize there, Captain. If there is something personal between you and Harris I suggest you let it go and enjoy the bounty fate has sent you, lest you anger our dear Charles and lose it al .”
Elizabeth trusts this man. “There is something very personal between us, Rivers. A debt that must be paid.
Even if I wished to let it go I cannot. I spent years tracking him only to lose him in Europe. Now he is back and a danger to me and mine. It was he who was meant to have Cressly. He asked the king for it specifical y. He can’t be sure I know it was him. He can’t be sure I know he’s back. I need to put him dow— I need to deal with him before he does.”
Wil iam smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Lizzy made me promise to act with discretion and maturity, and to try and dissuade you from impulsive acts. You are my witness that I did. But intrigue, espionage, danger… I am married, Captain, not dead.”
“You discussed my message to you with Elizabeth?”
“Of course I did. I tel her everything. There is nothing you can do at the moment. Your quarry is in Scotland.
Surrounded by armed men. He left right after you did, supposedly to raise monies for His Majesty’s ambitions abroad. By the time you reach his holdings he’l likely be on his way back to London. Go home. Be patient. I wil be your eyes and ears. Rest assured I’l keep you informed of al you need to know and help in any way I can.”
“I thank you for the offer, de Veres….” Pride, one of his staunchest al ies over the years, made a halfhearted effort to refuse, but it was no match for a sudden vision of a sooty-faced enchantress. It was his duty to take care of her, after al . A thing he could hardly do from miles away. “Your help is much appreciated. And please, give Elizabeth my best regards.”
“De rien, Captain. I always pay my debts. Besides, it should prove entertaining.”
Robert set out for home with a sense of anticipation he hadn’t felt in years. In the short time he’d known her, Hope had become so much a part of his life it seemed she’d always been there. For the first time in a long time it felt like there was something to go home to.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cressly Manor
“‘ONE FOR SORROW,
Two for mirth,
Three for a wedding,
Four for a birth.’
“Me ma taught me that one,” Lucy said proudly. “Magpies know things.”
“Everyone’s mother told them that,” Patience said with a disdainful sniff.
“Wel , I’ve never heard it before.” Hope stood, her head crooked to one side, as two of Sergeant Oakes’s rather burly footmen repositioned a painting yet again. “I wish I’d known that before my wedding.”
Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Overton, who couldn’t help but add, “The master is a good man. Magpies three was good luck for you, my lady.”
As they worked, they al vied to impress their new city mistress with hard-won country wisdom, which in turn led to stories of dastardly deeds and neighborhood ghosts and hauntings. Fortunately Sergeant Oakes stepped in before stories got started about Cressly. Hope stil heard noises that made her jump, and the cry of hunting birds at night sometimes alarmed her.
There was a thirst among the staff to bring the neglected house back to life. Underneath the humming and singing, laughter and joking, there was pride. For the past few weeks, since she’d returned from her shopping, al the staff had lent a hand working together, and it showed. Day by day, in remarkably short order, the house had taken on a new life and bril iance. Plaster wal s were whitewashed, panels and floors polished, and light streamed through windows and danced along the hal s.
Now they embarked on decorating: hanging paintings and tapestries, removing dusty sheets and laying down rugs.
She hadn’t needed to purchase as much as she’d expected after raiding the treasure trove of furniture, paintings and hangings packed in storage. She asked Mrs.
Overton, over tea, why so much had been put away.
“It was first put there for safekeeping, during the war, my lady. The master was hardly ever home. It was just me and the servants. He was gone for seven years with just one visit. When he final y came home he didn’t seem to have much interest. Then Mr. Oakes said the house was going to someone else and we’d al be moving to town so we packed up more. It does my heart good, ma’am, to see it shining like it is. I never thought I’d see it this way again.” Hope had been careful to mend relations with the housekeeper. The woman’s experience and expertise were invaluable, and she had no interest in taking over her duties. “My goodness, Mrs. Overton! You managed this place by yourself for seven years? That must have been an enormous task. What would the captain have done without you?”
“I don’t know, my lady, and that’s the truth. The sergeant wasn’t here neither. I suspect it would have gone to ruin, and himself not even notice.”
“Wel , thank the lord you were able to preserve it. Between us we’l return her to her former glory and see if he notices that.”
The housekeeper grinned. “Aye, ma’am. I daresay he might. At least once he gets the bil s.” Hope’s heart leapt when a coach arrived from London two days later, but it was just her plate and silverware, not the captain returning home. She flung a note from Charles in the fire without opening it. It was a private note, not a royal missive, and she felt no obligation to treat it differently than one from any other man. She hadn’t expected to miss the captain quite so much, but the wild night he’d taken her during the storm had changed things between them, even if he’d left for London before she could understand how.
She couldn’t cal what happened between them making love. It was far too rough, too urgent, too angry, on both their parts. But there had been passion, attraction, lust and delirious pleasure. Even though he’d said it mustn’t happen again, she felt as if he’d branded her, claiming every part of her, even her thoughts.
She hadn’t known he had been so close to losing his home.
Had he been in debt? It didn’t seem so. Was it because he fought for parliament? Perhaps. In any case, it helped explain what he meant when he said he’d not married her for a title. He’d said other things, too.
&
nbsp; It’s not you who haunts my dreams.
That meant someone else did. He refused to talk of his family or past, and he rarely laughed or smiled, but even when he did there was a haunted look in his eyes. A man who looked like he did could not have spent his life alone.
She wasn’t the only woman who’d watched him hungrily in London. Was there a lost love? A broken heart? A tragedy in his past? Who did he dream of? Even if it wasn’t her, she wanted him to come home.
Despite his prohibition, she turned her attention to the garden. Not the large overgrown jungles that surrounded the house. They had been scavenged for blooms to brighten the dining room and landings, but otherwise left alone. But the hidden garden behind the magical little room seemed to cal out to her so loud she couldn’t refuse. It was beautiful in its own wild glory and she didn’t seek to tame it.
She pruned a bit and weeded, loosened packed earth and cleared away dead leaves. Sergeant Oakes came to help her with the fountain and she took the time to thank him for finding her such a lovely room.
“That wasn’t me, lass,” he replied. “The captain was very clear he wanted you to have it. He said you’d like the brightness and the view.”
“He did?” He thought of my comfort even as we were quarrelling? The fountain was hot work, and she poured the sergeant a healthy mug of wine from the jug she’d brought to the garden.
“Oh, aye, ma’am. ‘She’s a fey little thing, Oakes,’ says he.
‘She’s bound to find it gloomy here. Give her the sunny one over the river, and fil it with al the plants you can find.’”
“Wel , that was very thoughtful of him. He never said a thing.”
“He wouldn’t, ma’am.” The wine was making the sergeant loquacious and she made sure to keep his cup ful . “He’s good at taking care of people, but not much of a one for talking. Maggie claims his old nurse said he was more sociable so to speak, as a child, but ever since I’ve known him, and that’d be nigh on twenty years, he’s had a tendency to keep his thoughts mostly to himself.”
“Real y?”
“Aye. Shut tight as a clam, he is. He was made lieutenant at sixteen. I didn’t much like the thought of having a green boy as an officer, and neither did the other men. But even then he weren’t no boy. I swear we al thought he was born old.
There was something dark about him. He never laughed or smiled and he was always business. Not one to sit and have a beer with the boys. Myself, I thought the lad had demons, but if he did he kept them to himself.”
“Demons?” She had noticed something dark about him, but that was not how she’d describe it.
“Aye. Eyes like a shark he had sometimes, before battle.
You could see right through ’em like they was made of ice. I swear he could scare a man to death. He didn’t need that monster sword for that.” He gave a short laugh and spit on the ground as if warding off evil. “But don’t you worry none, lass. He’s ferocious on the battlefield, but I never seen him abuse his men or a prisoner, and certainly never a woman or child. That’s a rare thing to say about men who’ve been long to war. A gentleman he is, and a damned fine commander. Some thought it were their duty to use up men like ammunition, but the captain, he did a job and did his best to get us out alive.”
She nodded solemnly. That’s much as I imagined him the first time I saw him.
The sergeant wiped his brow and settled on a stone bench in the shade. It was hot for early June. He reached for the jug and helped himself. “Do you know, my lady? You’re the first person I can recal ever making him laugh or smile. A real smile anyway. Not one of those cold lifeless ones that freeze you to your bones.”
She was pleased to hear it. His smiles and laughter were quick and fleeting, except for the bel y laugh when she told him of Orange Mol . She’d learned more about the captain in an hour with Mr. Oakes than she had over the past month, and she pressed ahead, taking advantage of his talkative mood.
“You say he’s good at taking care of people…”
“Oh, aye,” Oakes offered before she could finish. “Scarred footmen, one-eyed stable boys and short-fingered…wel , whatever I am. Most of the men you see here served under him, ma’am. After the war ended there was little employment and too many men looking for work. Many of us never got paid our back wages, and many turned to crime or ended in debtor’s prison…or starved. Finding work is hard enough if you’re able-bodied and handsome, almost impossible for fel ows like Jemmy and me. The captain finds work for any of his men that need it. He always takes care of his own.”
“Ah! That explains a great deal. I wondered about that, Sergeant. I was beginning to think you were al a great clumsy lot.”
They both broke into laughter.
“You’re good for him, lass. You’ve sparked his interest and that’s a rare thing indeed. He’s not easy to get to know, but I warrant it’s wel worth the effort.”
“I’l keep that in mind, Sergeant, but surely he’s had other…
interests…before me.”
“Ah! Wel , there was the Walters woman. Very protective of her, he was. He served her father a space during the war.
He admired her, I think, and felt it his duty to care of her, but she never made him laugh, and he never looked at her the way he does at you.”
Hope blushed and looked at her toes. “He’s a very handsome man, though, Sergeant. Surely there have been others.”
“Ach!” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Soldiers have needs just like other men, and some of them even have more than one wife.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “The captain, wel , there’s been a widow or three, and more than a few barmaids eager to warm him at night. But he’s never been one to play at romance. Many a fine lady has tried and failed. I’ve never seen him in love, though he liked Lady Rivers. For my money, he’s been married to that cold dark bitch cal ed war. You’re the first he’s ever brought to Cressly. It was a great surprise to al of us to see you married.”
“Believe me, Sergeant, it was as great a surprise to me as it was to you.”
ROBERT WALKED THROUGH THE HOUSE in stunned amazement. The wal s were hung with botanical watercolors, beautiful landscapes and exotic paintings of Eastern cities. Vibrant colored rugs adorned wal s and tables, and some were laid on the burnished floors. A chaotic mix of Flemish and Brussels tapestries told stories from history, legend and myth. He stopped in front of one that covered a wal in the library, depicting a group of colorful y clad astrologers standing on a balcony as they trained a telescope on a black-and-silver sky. He recognized many of the scenes from his childhood. He’d forgotten he had them packed away. Her decoration had no coherence as to style or subject. She had clearly chosen for cheerfulness, warmth and what was pleasing to the eye.
It was Cressly as he had never imagined it. Relaxing, inviting, comfortable and bright. He was astonished by what she’d accomplished in just a few short weeks. She’s taken my empty house and made it her own. The thought didn’t bother him. Indeed it made him smile, until he saw the masses of flowers in the dining room. Caroline’s flowers. I asked her but one thing! His eye was caught by the gleam of silverware set on a sideboard. There were beautiful y wrought candles, an engraved plate and bowl and a stack of linen napkins, al of them marked with the initials H.M.
AFTER S ERGEANT O AKES LEFT HER, Hope stretched out with the half-emptied jug on a velvet carpet of lush green grass. The sun kissed her face and the delight ful chatter from the laughing fountain added the final enchantment to a lovely day. As white puffs of cloud drifted overhead she dared think it. Maybe, by some strange May Day magic, I have finally found my home. Maybe I have found my—
“What in God’s name are you doing out here?” She jolted upright in surprise, smacking her head on the edge of the fountain, biting her tongue and seeing stars.
Curse the man! “I am enjoying the sunshine, you bloody fool! You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. When did you get back?” Any pleasure at seeing him home was waylaid by his angry to
ne and the throbbing pain to the back of her head.
“Just now. And just in time to stop you from laying claim to the gardens. Must you meddle with everything, madam?”
“You said to do as I pleased. You said this was my home, too. While I am here I shal live like it is.” Her voice was defiant, but she was bewildered. She thought he would appreciate al the work they had done. She had thought that he’d be pleased. She’d fixed a fountain and picked a few flowers. What on earth was wrong with him?
“I gave you the house, woman. Al that I asked was you leave the gardens alone. You and your lover cannot just walk in and lay claim to al that you please!”
“My lover? You mean the king?”
“Yes, I mean the king.” He took note of her bared feet and tousled hair. Despite his annoyance his mind was flooded with images of pebbled nipples and snowy thighs and his body tightened. He flung a napkin at her feet. “Sel them, store them, or give them away, but do not use His Majesty as initials to adorn my house.”
She snatched the napkin and stuffed it in her pocket. “The initials are for Hope Mathews!” Her lips were parted in anger and her eyes flashed a chal enge.
“Wel …you are Hope Nichols now, are you not?” he responded after a moment’s awkward silence.
She detected a faint red stain on his cheeks. Could it be jealousy? Embarrassment? When some men were angry their lips paled and thinned, but his looked hard and ful .
“Your point is taken, Captain. You needn’t belabor it. I wil remove the offending napkins so they trouble you no more.” He cleared his throat. “You can always go to Nottingham and order up some new ones.”