by Olivia Drake
“I’m sorry, but surely you can see that fulfilling our agreement is no longer possible.” She walked to the window to stare out, her fingers gripping the sill. “I was wrong to leave here from the start. Wrong to travel so far from my family. Only think of what could have happened to Lila.”
Seeing Bella shudder, Miles wrestled with the need to enfold her in the safety of his arms, to offer his protection. But how could he? As her temporary employer, he did not have any real claim on her. And she herself had shunned any hope of further intimacy between them.
He stepped nearer, anyway, stopping just short of touching her. “And what of yourself?” he asked roughly. “Think of what could happen to you if I were to leave you here. What if that thief returns?”
She whirled to face him, all fire and brimstone. “What other course of action do I have? Shall I abandon my brother and sister to fend for themselves again? I won’t do it!”
Those fierce lapis lazuli eyes caught at his heart. He made a snap decision, a decision that felt absolutely right. Perfect, in fact. “You do have another choice. All three of you will pack up your belongings at once and come back to London with me.”
* * *
“I’ve never been in a palace before,” Lila said in awe as they stepped into the foyer of Aylwin House with its cream marble floor and the grand staircase soaring upward to branch off in two directions. Her head tilted back, a bandbox of belongings in her hand, she slowly twirled around to view every aspect of the massive hall.
Bella imagined the impressive sight through her sister’s eyes. Ornate pillars soared to the ceiling. The walls displayed huge murals of mythological scenes on panels framed by elaborate gilding. In the center of the room, an obelisk rose like a needle to point at the high glass-domed roof, now dark from nightfall.
“I wonder if my voice will echo.” Cyrus cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hallo!”
A faint hallo ricocheted back to him.
The twins shared a laugh.
Miles handed his riding gloves and hat to a white-wigged footman in crimson livery. Another footman took the bandbox from Lila, along with their outer wraps. Not a hint of a smile cracked the solemn faces of the servants, although Bella thought she spied a twinkle in their eyes. There would be an animated discussion of the new arrivals tonight in the servants’ hall, she surmised. Perhaps nothing so unusual had happened in this mansion since the newly minted Duke of Aylwin had returned from Egypt with many shiploads of artifacts over twenty years ago.
Yet she herself still suffered grave misgivings about bringing her siblings here. Although the duke’s offer was a godsend, Bella disliked imposing on his hospitality, for it made her feel beholden to him. She felt guilty, as well, for in return for his benevolence, she was tricking him about her true mission in finding the treasure map.
How was she to search, anyway, if she had to monitor her brother and sister? Or tend to her duty of organizing the artifacts in the blue drawing room? And what if the twins interrupted Miles? He was accustomed to working in solitude, and she doubted that he realized just how lively two adolescents could be.
If only Mrs. Norris had been able to come to London, too. But the widow had a son and grandchildren in Oxford and could not be persuaded to part from them.
Bella had given her siblings a stern lecture on the long ride back to London in the sumptuous coach, but already they seemed to have forgotten her instructions about proper behavior in a ducal residence. Now, Cyrus grabbed Lila’s hand, and against her laughing protests, he tugged her toward the marble staircase.
Bella made haste to intercept them. “There’ll be no exploring tonight,” she warned in an undertone. “Tomorrow is soon enough for a tour.”
Cyrus eyed the long balcony on either side of the stairs. “But I only want to go up there and see if my voice echoes—”
“You’ll heed your sister’s command,” Miles said firmly, stepping to Bella’s side. “In a moment, you’ll both be assigned bedchambers. And there you’ll stay until the morning. Any insubordination will be reported directly to me.”
He aimed the Ducal Stare at them, and the twins lapsed into meek silence. Bella hid a twist of amusement, for they could have no inkling of the kindness that Miles hid behind his brusque exterior. But she knew. No matter how he might scowl and scold, he was a considerate man underneath it all. He’d offered his protection to all of them, when it surely would be an inconvenience to him. He had even assisted them in packing up their meager belongings, including Papa’s papers.
Had he done so for her sake? Was it possible that he harbored an affection for her after their night together?
With all her heart, Bella wanted to believe that. She herself felt a decided warmth toward him, and a mad desire to see his face soften with love when he looked at her. But it wouldn’t do to dwell on impossible dreams. She must remember that her stay here was only temporary. Miles was a confirmed bachelor, a dedicated scholar, and a nobleman far beyond her reach.
If he felt anything at all for her, it could only be lust.
A quiver stirred deep within her womb. How she longed to satisfy her own hunger for him. But she must never act upon her desires again, especially not now, with her brother and sister so close at hand.
Pinkerton came hobbling from the rear of the house, Mrs. Witheridge at his side. As Miles introduced Lila to them, Bella could see the curiosity in their eyes. How surprised they must be that the master would treat the brother and sister of an employee as honored guests.
Cyrus would occupy the same chamber as the previous night, while Lila would be installed in the bedroom next to Bella’s. In short order, the housekeeper led the twins toward the grand staircase, while Pinkerton headed back down to the servants’ hall to issue the appropriate instructions to the staff.
As Bella made to follow, Miles stopped her with a brief touch to her arm. All of her senses sprang to alert as he bent his head closer. “If you’re agreeable,” he said in an undertone, “I would like to keep your father’s papers locked in the storage room next to my study. You have my word that I won’t touch them without your permission.”
Why did he wish to keep Papa’s effects locked up?
Struck by a knell of uneasiness, she searched his sober features. She thought of the missing letters, the ghostly figure that both she and Nan had glimpsed. Miles knew nothing about that intruder. Yet he too must have been disturbed by the peculiarity of the break-in at her cottage. Was it possible there was a connection?
Bella needed time alone to think about it all.
“I’d like to check the crates to see if anything is missing, perhaps sometime in the next day or two,” she said. “But you’ve forbidden me access to your study.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in an attractive half smile that turned her knees to softened butter. “Then a new rule is in order,” he said in a husky murmur meant for her ears alone. “You may enter any room in the west wing at any time … day or night.”
Just like that, a spark kindled between them, the air shimmering with heat. She felt its warmth all the way down to her toes. Was he suggesting that she slip into his bedchamber in the dark of night?
The prospect sounded so very tempting—and so very reckless. She had a duty to her siblings, a job to finish, a map to find. Yet when his gaze dipped to her mouth, Bella had the wild urge to throw her arms around him, to join their lips in an ardent kiss, no matter that a footman stood on duty across the vast hall.
On impulse, she reached out to grasp Miles’s hand. He immediately laced his fingers through hers, too, his grip firm and strong. His eyes were dark and intent on her. A powerful surge of emotion washed through her, a swell of passion and gratitude and affection, with hidden depths that she dared not explore.
Was it love? Surely she could not be so unwise as to give her heart to the almighty Duke of Aylwin.
It seemed safest to focus on appreciation. “I never had a chance to thank you, Miles. For the fruit basket … for allowing
me to stay here … for taking all of us into your home. You’ve been far, far too kind.”
Before she could disgrace herself by begging for his love, she tugged her hand free and escaped up the staircase.
Chapter 22
The following morning, Bella took her brother and sister on a tour of Aylwin House. They tramped up and down the many staircases, peeking into rooms crammed with statues and into other chambers that were unused, the furniture draped in dustcovers. She sketched them each a map to carry, too, in case they became lost. The twins were on their best behavior, having been suitably awed the previous evening by the warning from Miles.
The Ducal Stare had its good uses.
At midday, they ventured down into the kitchen and enjoyed a simple meal of shepherd’s pie at the long table, amid the bustle of the kitchen staff preparing the master’s luncheon. Bella wondered if Miles would eat alone in his study where they’d shared a cold supper, smiling and talking, on the night they’d made love.
Beset by wistful longing, she reminded herself it was best to lock away the memory of that forbidden intimacy. Best, too, to stay out of his path by avoiding the ballroom where he often worked. Best not to think about him at all.
After luncheon, she intended to settle her brother and sister in the huge library. They were both avid readers and she could trust them to do their lessons there and then entertain themselves with the many books on display. But first, she escorted them to the blue drawing room so they could see how she was organizing the jumble of broken artifacts.
Cyrus exhibited a keen interest in the task. He asked scores of intelligent questions, some of which she couldn’t answer, while helping her lay out the scarabs on a table draped in the white silk that Miles had provided.
Lila wandered to a pile in the corner that Bella had not yet sorted and plucked out an item. It was a flat round implement made of dented bronze with an ornate handle. “Do you suppose this is a mirror?” she asked, bringing it to them.
“I don’t know,” Bella said in surprise. “It might be.”
“Maybe I could polish away the tarnish. Then we can see if it shows our reflection.” Lila snatched up a rag and began to rub hard on the bronze surface.
Bella smiled. She could see Papa’s influence on her brother and sister, for he had conveyed to them his love for bygone eras. Many an evening, they’d gathered around the fire in their stone hut to examine items he’d unearthed that day, or to discuss how people lived in the ancient world. A lump formed in her throat. How dearly she missed her father …
The sound of footsteps yanked her out of the memory, and she turned just as Helen and Oscar Grayson sauntered through the doorway.
The moment of nostalgia fading, Bella braced herself to deflect their snide commentary. She had felt a particular distaste for them ever since that vicious incident when Helen had trod upon Bella’s foot.
The couple looked as if they belonged at a fancy party, fair-haired Helen resplendent in an aqua gown with sea-foam-green trimmings, and Oscar the quintessential gentleman in a claret coat with gray pinstripe trousers and a rose-pink waistcoat. His muttonchop whiskers had been neatly trimmed beneath an artful mop of dark wavy hair.
Bella wasn’t fooled by their fine appearances. These two could only be up to no good.
Helen glided past the stacks of artifacts, her disdainful gaze flicking to the twins and then back to Bella. “Miss Jones!” she uttered. “My maid heard gossip that you’d moved your family into Aylwin House. I simply could not believe that you would dare to impose so greatly on the duke’s charity.”
Bella gritted her teeth behind a pleasant smile. As much as she’d like to utter a biting retort, she must not lose her temper in front of her siblings. “Mrs. Grayson, Mr. Grayson, allow me to present my sister and brother. Lila, Cyrus, Mr. Grayson is the duke’s cousin.”
“And heir, don’t forget,” Oscar added with a nasty smirk.
Oblivious to any undercurrents, Cyrus bowed in a desultory manner, then returned to his study of the scarabs. Laying down the bronze mirror, Lila dipped a graceful curtsy, all the while staring in wide-eyed innocence at Helen. “Oh, what a perfectly gorgeous gown, Mrs. Grayson. I’ve never seen anything so pretty in my life.”
Helen preened. “I employ the finest modiste in London. Though I daresay, a girl of your foreign upbringing can have little experience in matters of style.”
Lila took an earnest step closer. “I’ve studied the fashion journals, madam. And I am quite skilled in sewing my own dresses. See?” She twirled around, spinning the dark gold skirt of the gown that she had reworked from her former Persian robes.
Bella thought Lila with her golden-brown hair far more lovely than Helen who had amber feline eyes and a superior tilt to her chin. Then Bella noticed Oscar leaning on his cane and staring with an avid expression at the young girl.
Nothing could have been better designed to stir her protective instincts. She could not tolerate another moment in the company of these two miscreants.
“I’m afraid you’ve come at an inconvenient time,” she said tightly. “His Grace requested that I take my brother and sister for a tour of the statuary in the ballroom. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”
“You never told me that,” Cyrus said, glancing up from the scarabs.
“Aylwin sent me a message earlier,” she fibbed. “And we dare not disobey his command.” Taking Lila and Cyrus each by the hand, she stepped toward the couple. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Oscar and Helen retreated in a huff, though not without bending their heads together to mutter back and forth about uppity servants and their deplorable manners. As the pair went out the door, and Bella towed her siblings in the other direction, she distinctly heard Oscar’s voice echo down the vast corridor.
“Miss Jones looks much older than those two,” he said with a snigger. “Can we be certain they’re not her whelps?”
Bella very nearly turned around and marched back to give him a well-deserved tongue-lashing. Instead, she pulled her brother and sister onward down the passageway with the tall white pillars along the walls.
Perhaps she was old enough to be their mother. There was nothing wrong with that. She had raised them from the time of Mama’s death, shortly after their birth, when Bella had been fourteen. She had cooked for them, bandaged their scrapes, taught them their lessons, nursed them through childhood illnesses.
But being nearly thirty years of age didn’t make her a withered crone. Miles certainly hadn’t found her too old to arouse his lusts. He had been more than happy to …
“Ouch, must you squeeze so hard?” Cyrus said.
“And pray don’t walk quite so fast,” Lila added rather breathlessly.
Bella released their hands and slowed her pace to a stroll. “Sorry, darlings, I must have been lost in thought.”
Lila cast an astute glance back over her shoulder. “Those two made you angry, didn’t they? I didn’t like them very much, either, to be honest. They were rather snobbish.” She paused, her face growing wistful. “Though I do covet Mrs. Grayson’s gown.”
Bella laughed, her wrath easing along with the tension in her limbs. “Perhaps one morning we’ll go out to the shops,” she said impulsively. “Even if we haven’t the means to purchase anything, there’s no harm in looking at fabric and trimmings.”
Her face alight, Lila clapped her hands. “Oh, yes, please! Can it be tomorrow?”
“At the end of the week. And then only if your schoolwork is properly completed.”
“I’m staying right here,” Cyrus declared. “I need a new pair of boots, but what’s the point if I haven’t any funds to buy them?”
Lila disagreed, and the twins launched into a spirited squabble about the merits of browsing versus buying.
They’d arrived at the arched doorway to the ballroom, and Bella tried to shush them, fearing their voices would carry to Miles. “That’s quite enough, both of you,” she murmured. “It’s time to go to the library f
or your lessons.”
When she took hold of their arms to steer them in the opposite direction, Cyrus balked. The massive doors to the ballroom stood open, and he craned his neck to peer at the rows of Egyptian sculptures. “Wait! You told the Graysons that the duke is expecting us. You said he wanted to show us those statues—and I do want to see them.”
Bella had taught her siblings never to lie, so she sought a tactful way to explain that she’d invented the appointment. “I’m sorry, but you see, I was too busy to chat with them today, and I needed an excuse…”
The words died in her throat as Miles stepped into the doorway.
He looked as he always did on a workday, the white shirt stretched over his muscular shoulders, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, the black trousers defining his long legs. Yet every part of her body heated up with tingly awareness. She could have stood there for hours, drinking in his appearance. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d run his fingers through it multiple times while trying to solve a difficult hieroglyph. The slight, very attractive smile on his lips caused a hitch in her heartbeat.
He withdrew a gold watch from his pocket and flicked it open to check the time. “I presume you’ve come for our appointment. May I commend you on your promptness … especially if you were delayed by my cousin and his wife.”
The twinkle of humor in his dark eyes made her dizzy with relief. He had overheard her awkward explanation and he had covered for her. And blessing of blessings, he didn’t appear to mind the interruption.
“Thank you for inviting us here, Your Grace,” Cyrus said, peering past Miles. “I say, is that a coffin?”
Her brother loped eagerly into the ballroom. Though most of the room was filled with a maze of statues, he went straight to a long, rectangular structure fashioned from granite, the sides chiseled with the images of Egyptian gods and goddesses.
Miles strolled to one end of the massive box. “It’s called a sarcophagus. It would have been placed inside the burial tomb and the pharaoh laid to rest in here.”