He could see that all was not as it should be. There were signs that someone had been here, though Michael was certain that there was no one else around now. The air around him was flat and empty. It had been for awhile. It was not as though he had frightened anyone away.
He hopped down from the ledge. It was not a large room. Stacks of baskets lined the walls. Lord David had told him that the old castle rooms were used mostly for storage, except for the chapel and the old royal room. This looked to be the space designated for basket storage. But that was not all it had been used for.
There was a straw mattress on the floor, two mugs, candle stubs and what he thought were the ashes of a small fire. No one was spending time here now. The door was locked from the outside, which would explain why the squatters had come through the old window opening.
He raised the panel and left it as secured as he had found it.
Lord David was with the duke. With a nod to the footman who gave him that information, Michael went into Lord David’s office to wait. The door was ajar, and Lord David’s heated voice reached him without the slightest effort at covert listening.
“You are not going to vote for it, are you, Your Grace?” Lord David was doing his best to control his temper, but Michael could hear the tension in his voice.
“I am going to follow Liverpool’s leadership in this. I will use my influence on issues of value.” It was obvious that the duke had made his decision. Debate was pointless.
“And half-pay for naval officers is not of value to you?”
“Of interest and of value, but it is not an issue on which I am going to take a stand that will alienate the very people whose support I may need later.” He was silent for a long moment. “Habeas corpus is far more important, David.”
“But that is about to be expanded and clarified, Lyn. Long overdue, you said.”
“Yes, but there are too many who recall the suspension of 1794 and will move to suspend habeas corpus again if they think that the situation calls for it. David, our brother Gabriel suffered under such a suspension. He was in that French prison for months with no idea of the charges, much less if they were justified.”
“The French have no habeas corpus.”
“It’s the principle that matters.”
“You think that there is real danger of insurrection?” Lord David sounded skeptical.
“I’m not sure. The air I breathe is too rarified for me to know what most people are thinking. That is one of the reasons I hired Garrett. He knows what to look for. He knows how to keep us safe and I want to be prepared.”
“And the other reason you hired him?”
The duke did not answer verbally, or did not speak loud enough for Michael to hear. He would have given a month’s pay to know what passed between them. David made a sound that might have been a laugh. “I tell you what Garrett should do. Bed her, wed her and let her stay in the kitchen.”
“I think I would reverse the first two, brother.”
“You might, Lyn, but few men have your self-control.”
Michael had heard quite enough. The two were gossiping like Mary and the scullery maid did when they thought no one else was about. And like them, the duke and his brother made up stories so that the world made sense. He had self-control, damn it. He had been proving it for weeks. He was halfway to furious when Lord David came into the office through the door from the duke’s study.
“Well, good morning. Been listening, have you?”
Michael was not going to answer, not if the man bent his finger back until it broke. “I’ve discovered something that I think you should see immediately, my lord. We will need to go to the room where the baskets are stored.”
“In the old castle?”
“Yes.”
Without demanding any more of an explanation Lord David led him through the halls and downstairs, into the inner courtyard of the new castle, a space alive with flowers despite this year without a spring. There were even flowering trees and an elegant French garden.
They crossed it and faced a grand entryway.
“The old castle drawbridge.”
Michael had to admire how it had been retained as an element of design and wondered if it could still open completely.
He followed Lord David through the small guard door to the left. The old inner ward was as stark as the new castle courtyard was lush. Its only decoration was a very professional boxing ring.
“I am guessing that is a recent addition.” He gestured to the ring.
“Yes, my idea. We have matches. Lyn and I, and a couple of the stable lads are good in the ring. One of the footmen worked for a professional and is their coach.”
Michael followed Lord David across the courtyard, up a circle of stone stairs and along a corridor with doors on one side and an opening onto the inner ward on the other.
The corridor ran around the castle in a circle, providing air and light when the doors to the rooms were open.
“I told you before that most of these rooms serve as our attic. The chapel is still ready for use and so is the royal bedroom, though no king would ever choose to stay in it.
“The rooms are all locked. I have yet to spend time here unless I need something. I think I must move it up on my list. But, as you can see, each one is labeled.”
Lord David found the room designated for basket storage with unerring accuracy. Inside it was just as Michael had left it. He walked over to the window, stepped up on the sill and reached for the handholds, pulling the panel in as he stepped down. A spill of weak sunlight showed the straw pallet, candle stubs and ashes in sharper detail. “My lord, someone has been coming in through this panel to meet here.”
“And you have no idea who that someone is.” Lord David stood with his hands on his hips looking at the opening.
“No, but whoever it is has not been here for a while.”
“How did you find this, Garrett?”
“When I made my first circuit of the grounds,” Michael gestured to the panel, “I saw that this opening could be reached from the outside. I finally made time to see if I was right.”
“Who is our traitor?” Lord David kicked at an old basket, which produced nothing but dust. He did not seem to expect an answer, but turned and left the room, apparently heading back to the courtyard. Michael followed him, giving an answer anyway.
“As we discussed before, you have to find out who are the most recent hires.” But not as new as I am. “Who has a grudge.” Hackett or someone else in his family. “Who needs money.” Surely there were bets on the occasional boxing matches. “Who is in love with Olivia.” Besides me.
The two words exploded in his brain, made his heart jump, his stomach clench. It was not love, he insisted, even as Lord David told him to bring him the perpetrators and walked off.
Michael did not move, could not move. All his energy was focused on denial. He was not in love with her. In lust. Yes, lust he could accept.
It did not take more than one look at her to want all of that warm, lush body. One look into her eyes to want to see the world through them.
That was not love.
It was longing for a life that was as unfamiliar as it was unreachable.
32
I CANNOT COUNT how many times the courier has been here since I wrote and I have had no response from Jess. It has been at least six weeks.” Olivia was in bed and Kendall was busy tucking in the covers as though her charge was a baby in swaddling clothes.
“He is a busy man, my lady.”
“That is no excuse. It was very, very important. I expected him to come home immediately.”
Kendall straightened suddenly. Well-trained maid that she was, Kendall did not ask for details, but Olivia knew she was curious.
“I want him to tell me how Rowena is doing. I want to hear it in person, and I am sure that the duke would like to hear his opinion as well.”
It was such a good lie that Kendall nodded approval.
“You should write hi
m again. The courier leaves in the morning.”
“I’ll do that first thing, Kendall. Then to the kitchen. I have almost perfected the dry spice for the salmon. If it is cooked as slowly as possible, the spices will flavor the entire fillet.”
Her maid yawned.
Olivia pretended that was the end of the discussion. She should have asked when they could expect the material they had ordered from London. If that had been the subject, there would have been no yawn. How many times did she have to witness the fact that not everyone was interested in what they ate and how it was cooked? “Good night, Kendall.”
“Good night, my lady.”
As soon as the door was closed, Olivia drummed her feet to loosen the covers and thought about the letter to Jess. She should write it tonight. That’s what she would do, so the letter would be ready in plenty of time for the morning courier.
Olivia tossed the covers back. The sound of the wind beating against the window was a reminder to put on her robe and slippers. Holding an unlit candle in her hand she went into her boudoir.
Her writing desk was as tidy as ever. She lit the candle and reseated the globe. With a piece of paper in front of her and the nib sharpened, she opened the inkwell to find that the ink was no more than a dried lump at the bottom of the well. Oh dear. Should it not last more than six weeks?
All right, that was an easy enough problem to solve. She would run down to Lyn’s office and use his ink, or she could bring the ink up. It would only take five minutes to fetch it.
Olivia dashed out of the room and was halfway down the stairs before she realized that the castle was completely dark at this hour. She was not afraid, but it did not look or feel nearly as comfortable now as it did in the morning.
The shadows were the same, she insisted as a tingle of fear settled next to her bravado. Except for the new statue at the other end of the hall. When had that been put in place? Making a mental note to ask in the morning, she set the candle on the table outside the study.
In the second between placing it there and opening the door someone grabbed her from behind, his hand over her mouth.
Panic gave her strength and she kicked back, aiming for the place between his legs but missing it completely.
“Olivia!”
How did he know who it was? Probably the same way she knew it was Michael Garrett. The way his hand felt on her mouth, the way it made her feel warm all over, the way she wanted to fit her whole body against his.
“Oh for God’s sake, Olivia. I’m sorry. Shh. Shh.” He smoothed her hair with his hands, turning her into his chest. She was shaking and mad at herself for being so missish, but she could not stop or move away.
Her ear was pressed against his heart and she could feel it beating, steadily but hard, as though he was angry.
What right did he have to be angry? This was her house, not his. She leaned back to look him in the eye, irritation taking the place of fear.
“What are you doing here? You almost scared me to death.”
“You didn’t do my heart any good, either, my lady. What are you doing here?”
“I asked first.” Olivia took a step back, out of his arms. It didn’t make any sense to let him hold her if she was going to argue with him. “I came to find some ink so I could write to my brother Jess this evening. There is a courier to London tomorrow and I wanted to be sure that my letter went out as soon as possible.”
“What is so urgent that the letter must be written tonight?”
“Nothing,” she lied, looking away from him so he would not see it in her eyes. “I could not sleep, and it occurred to me that I should make use of the time by writing to Jess.” She was proud of that; it was the complete truth. As long as he did not ask her what she was writing to him about.
“You are one of the worst liars I have ever met.”
“Really? But I’m not lying.”
“Then you are not telling me the whole truth.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You are not going to put anything about what happened in your letter, are you?”
“No, of course not. It’s only that I think he should consider coming home to give Lyn support.”
“The duke seems to have all the support he needs.” Michael folded his arms and considered her from his superior height. “You are telling me that all you will have to do is ask your brother to come home and he will leave London immediately, make the trip on miserable roads without any idea of what is so important.”
“He will if I ask him.”
“Do tell me the magic words, Lady Olivia.”
“I am his sister and he loves me. He would die if anything happened to me.”
“But you are safe now. Why do you have to tell him anything?” It was a moment before he said, with great certainty, “You think he had something to do with your abduction.”
“No.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “Absolutely not.” Olivia gave him a quick look from under her lashes. “I have no idea what worrisome story may make its way to town. I am going to reassure him and suggest that he could be of help here. That is all.”
“How thoughtful, and what a bag of nonsense.” He took her by the arm and pulled her into Lyn’s study. “Tell me what Lord Jessup has to do with this.”
“How do you know that what I said isn’t the truth?”
He shook his head.
“You can truly tell when someone is lying?”
“Yes, and do not ask me to teach you how to lie or how to tell when someone is. Your duke brother would love that. He would tie me to a cart and drag me in the dirt.”
“I was not going to ask you to teach me!”
“That is another lie.” Michael rubbed his jaw. “I will not teach you to lie, but you can keep trying and when I do not catch you in one you will know you have succeeded.”
“It might take forever.”
“I devoutly hope it does, Lady Olivia. Telling the truth is so much easier than nursing lies. After a while it is hard to tell truth from story.”
“How do you know?”
“Experience.”
She wanted to know more about his life before she met him but now he was acting like David. Answering her questions with more of his own. Questions she did not want to answer.
“I must go.” She reached around the door and picked up the candle and went to find the ink. He followed her.
She had the inkwell in hand before her annoyance faded enough to let other thoughts take shape in her head. “What are you doing here, Mr. Garrett?”
“Lord David has not found a new night porter yet, so I am making a circuit of the inside as well as the outside to be sure all is as it should be.”
He sounded like an officious butler.
“Lady Olivia, you can ask me questions until dawn. I will wait you out and go back to the one you have not answered. Why is it so urgent that you must write to your brother in London?”
Where was the man with whom she had traveled? That man had been kind and only a little autocratic.
Was it because it was just the two of them in the almost dark that his looks were an enticing mix of fascinating and forbidding? If he thought he could intimidate her he was wrong.
“It is none of your business.”
“Convince me.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Write the letter and show it to me. I will give it to the courier myself to make sure it is the only letter you send.”
“That is ridiculous. You are not my father, my brother or my guardian. Go away.”
He did not answer her, but stayed right where he was, watching her until she began to be self-conscious. She was wearing only her night robe and while it covered more of her flesh than her gowns did, she was not wearing a corset. The lack of it made her feel indecently dressed. She could feel a blush starting and hated her lack of sophistication.
“You are blushing because it has only now occurred to you how inappropriate this meeting is?”
“Not at all. It
is warm in here.”
“Tell me why you are writing to your brother.”
“Women learned all they know about nagging from men.”
“You are going to learn something else in a minute, Lady Olivia.”
She made a face at him, picked up the candle and headed for the door. Garrett reached it before she did, blocking her exit. Olivia turned and walked toward the door that led into the library. Garrett stayed where he was. Good. He would learn that he could not treat her like a child.
“Your brother may tolerate it when you act like a child, but I will not.”
She slowed a little but did not turn around.
“You are behaving like a selfish chit. It is not only your safety that is at stake here. There are at least a hundred people in and around the castle every day and God knows how many in the village. Any one of them could be at risk.”
She stopped and, still with her back to him, winced at the truth of what he was saying.
“While I am convinced that you are no longer in any physical danger, I still know nothing about the men who took you. Nothing. If someone is hurt because you will not tell me what you know, you will have to live with the guilt. Not to mention my disappointment in you.”
“I am so sorry, Garrett. So sorry.” Mortified, embarrassed and discomfited. None of those words summed up exactly how she felt. “You are right. There are others to think about. Not the need to protect my reputation or spare Jess from Lyn’s anger. I could not live with the guilt. I still feel terrible about Big Sam searching for me that night.”
Ashamed was more like it. Ashamed that she had only thought of her brother Jess and not the possibility that others could be in danger.
“Please, let me explain.” She put the candle and ink on the table nearest the door, walked toward the fireplace and stood as close to the fading warmth as she could.
SHE REALLY DID LISTEN to reason. Amazing. Michael tried to count. It was the second or third time that she had listened to what he had to say and stopped just as he thought a tantrum was brewing. “Will you be warm enough?”
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