There was something about the atmosphere in the kitchen that changed into something indefinably awkward. She thought over the conversation and felt her blood run cold. Did they consider her to be one of the master’s ‘ladies’? There to serve a purpose before being returned to wherever she came from? She glanced at Potter who had returned to polishing his boot with too much careful consideration, to Sophie who was industriously chopping vegetables that had already been chopped.
She took a breath to correct their presumption when a small bell above the doorway jingled alarmingly. Potter glanced up and sighed.
“I’ll go,” Doreen muttered, disappearing out of the kitchen as quickly as her feet could carry her. Cecily glanced backward, unsure if she should go after Doreen or remain in the kitchens to correct them this misinterpretation as to what kind of ‘guest’ she really was.
“I’ll go and take a walk outside, I think,” Cecily sighed miserably. She wasn’t going to be in the house long enough for their opinion of her to matter but, for some reason, it did matter what these people thought of her, only she didn’t know why.
She wasn’t sure how to address their misapprehension other than to raise it with Jamie and request that he set them straight at the earliest opportunity. But, would that only make matters worse?
Her thoughts turned to Jamie. While he had undoubtedly kept her out of the French guards’ clutches, he had ostensibly abandoned her to her own devices, clearly suffering her presence rather than being willing to engage in it. While a part of her was pleased that there had been no awkward advances, she grew increasingly uneasy about the real reasons he had so surprisingly offered for her hand all those weeks ago. She had no doubt now that he had other reasons for wanting access to her home, or rather her father’s study, and it had more to do with the French spies, and the Star Elite than her, but it just didn’t make sense that he would make an offer for her and run the risk of it being accepted. Unless he had no intention of ever going through with the offer in the first place and that could only leave her with one conclusion to make.
She had been used as a pawn.
But that didn’t explain why he had chosen to bring her here, to Melvedere, his home.
A small part of her couldn’t help but feel cheated a little at his half-hearted proposal, and she was grateful for her father for being bullish enough to throw him out on his ear. It had been about the only decent thing her sire had ever done for her.
But that led her to another question. What had her father been involved in that had caused the Star Elite to consider him worthy of investigating? Was she under suspicion? Is that why Jamie had brought her to this house in the middle of nowhere? Was she being kept under a sort of unofficial house arrest?
Her thoughts whirled in a kaleidoscope of confusion, to the point that she wasn’t sure what to think of anything anymore. She bent down and brushed her hands along Basil’s back as he padded toward her, and smiled at him as he turned to follow her.
“Coming with me?” She murmured, patting his head as she headed toward the corner of the house that had held a conservatory. It was closest to the rolling lawns, and the only room she could really recognise from the outside. Although they hadn’t used it last night, it had a long row of glass doors that led out into the gardens; perfect to use as a temporary escape.
Outside the air was crisp and inviting. The gentle waft of roses assailed her nostrils as she meandered through the scattered flowers toward the vast expanse of lawn that stretched to the edge of the large woods.
Half way across the lawn, Cecily felt a prickling sensation between her shoulder blades and paused, staring down at her feet in consideration. Should she turn around and see if anyone was watching? If she was being placed under house arrest, it was inevitable that someone would watch her. What would she do if she saw someone, wave unconcernedly or ignore them? Deciding she didn’t really care, her thoughts turned toward the events in the kitchen. Clearly the staff didn’t have any idea of Jamie’s chosen career path, or maybe they did. Maybe Jamie always brought a lady home while he ‘rested’.
She glanced up at the trees now lying several feet away and froze when the memory of her conversation with Doreen, and Jamie, this morning came back to her. Mrs Nantwich was supposed to be going into town for a change of clothing for her, yet there had been no mention of the new items. Sighing she glanced down at her smudged and slightly smelly clothing, and wondered if she was going to be confined to her room now too. After all, she could hardly sit at the dining table looking like a vagabond, fresh from a farmyard. She could hardly pressure Jamie into purchasing her clothing and as she hadn’t any money to buy anything, nor was likely to be able to get hold of any soon to pay him back. There was little she could do. It wasn’t lost on her that right at that moment she was completely reliant upon Jamie’s generosity for food and a roof over her head and, as a result, she was indeed a prisoner, albeit one of her own making.
Her thoughts turned briefly to the small pouch of meagre belongings Jamie had taken from her when she had parted company with Portia, and she made a mental note to ask him about them later.
As she ambled across the grass, her thoughts turned to her current predicament. She could of course, return home to her father, but that would mean she would have to report what had happened to both herself and Portia, while admitting that Portia was still in the presence of an unnamed gentleman, going heaven knew where, being chased by French spies. She couldn’t write a book about it, the story was too fantastic. Even if her father did believe her, she was effectively ruined. Both of them were. Her father would make her life a misery.
She watched Basil sniff around in the undergrowth as he followed the meandering path through the woods, and followed him along the well trodden path. A few minutes later she heard the faint trickling of flowing water and sighed with delight when she caught sight of a small stream haphazardly jostling through a row of tumbled stones. It wasn’t very big, but the water was clear and crisp. Perching precariously upon a rock at the very edge of the water, she dropped her chin onto her knees and thought back to the events of the afternoon when she had last sat beside such a stream with Portia. She wasn’t sure if she would ever make sense of what had happened to them, or why. In order to make sense of it, she had to ask Jamie and Jonathan, but they were sequestered in the study with strict instructions that they weren’t to be disturbed. What would happen when they came out heaven only knew, but Cecily realised that she had to make a few decisions of her own.
At some point they would decide it was going to be safe to leave. What would happen then? Where could she go? She had no real relations she could call upon who would willingly provide a home. Their aunt, although kindly in nature, hated their father and was relatively unknown to them. Given the dangers of the past few days, it wasn’t fair to bring such troubles to her aunt’s doorstep. By turning up unannounced and uninvited, with such trouble lurking behind her, she would inevitably find herself cast out into the cold again.
There was really only one option open to her. The possibility of returning home was immediately dismissed and ignored as improbable. Even if her father had been up to nothing and had been investigated merely because he was a businessman in Tissington, she had no intention of ever being forced into marriage to an old man twice her age, or resuming her life of servitude for her father. Portia was heaven knew where and, if Archie’s dedication was as determined as it appeared, her sister’s future had already been decided upon. She couldn’t prevail upon Portia and Archie as newlyweds.
Feeling more alone than ever, Cecily sat staring morosely down into the stream, watching the water tumble gently past her booted feet. Basil flopped down beside her panting heavily, but seemingly content to simply go to sleep again.
“I have been looking for you.”
The deep, husky baritone coming from somewhere behind her made Cecily jump, and she whirled around with a squeak of surprise.
Jamie was standing nonchalantly leaning agains
t the tree directly behind her.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“You were lost in thought,” Jamie murmured, glancing down at Basil in disgust. “Not much of a guard dog, is he?”
“He is lovely,” Cecily defended, sitting back on the rock in an attempt to ignore him. She was dirty, unkempt and miserable, while he was clean-shaven, freshly bathed and dressed to perfection. Jamie was clearly a man who was very much in control of his life and his estate, and knew it. His boots alone probably cost more than her father made in an entire year. The difference between them was so markedly profound that Cecily wished she was somewhere else, with anyone else, and knew then what she had to do.
Tipping her chin upright, she turned to look at him when he came to sit on another stone a few feet away.
“How long am I going to be confined here?”
“Confined?” Jamie scoffed, glancing at her in shock. “You are not under house arrest.”
“Am I not?” One elegant brow arched in silent query. “Why does it feel as though I am?”
“I am sorry if the staff have not looked after you very well. I will have a word with them.”
“They think I am your mistress of the week.”
Stilted silence settled around them. Cecily immediately regretted her outburst. The physical differences between them were enough to discredit her last statement, even if she could ignore the shocked look on his face.
“Who said that to you?”
“Does it matter? You and I both know it is ridiculous, but the staff seemed to think I am here as more than a guest.”
Jamie lapsed into thoughtful silence. In reality, she was there as more than a guest, but he had no idea how the staff had picked up on his intentions given he had never discussed them with anyone. Did they really think he had brought her here to be his mistress? For the week, was it? Turning toward her in consternation, he studied the discomfort on her face and immediately regretted spending most of the day locked in the study, making plans with Jonathan. He should have spent a bit of time with her, or even shown her around the house himself. But his work with the Star Elite was at a critical stage, and he couldn’t ignore the possible criminal activities of her father. The sooner everything was brought to a conclusion, the quicker everyone could get on with their lives, and England would be one step closer to becoming a safer place.
Still, it appeared he had gotten off on the wrong foot with Cecily, and he was at a loss to know how to put it right.
“You haven’t answered me,” Cecily chided him after several moments of silence. “How long am I going to be here?”
“For as long as you need to be, Cecily,” Jamie replied. “Why, do you need to be somewhere important?”
“I just cannot remain here relying on your hospitality. Portia is out there being subjected to heaven knows what, and I need to give some thought as to what I am going to do. I cannot make plans for my future if I do not know how long I am being held here.”
“Let me set you straight. You are being ‘held’ here, as you put it, purely for your own safety. You saw those French guards. You heard them firing at us. They weren’t doing that for the fun of it. They were deadly serious, and had followed us for miles for the opportunity. These are determined people, Cecily, and we cannot underestimate their determination. Melvedere is about the safest place I could think of where you are guaranteed total isolation. I need to be here to regroup and decide what to do next.”
“Is that why you followed me here?” She waved one arm around the woods. She had no doubt he had come after her by the careful look he gave her.
“I have to protect you,” he muttered, turning his back toward her to stare down at the stream. “It is my job.”
Cecily stared at him feeling crestfallen, and knew then that everything he had done in her life had been purely because to his job. Of course there had been no affection, she chided herself. There was no earthly reason why someone like him would offer for someone like her unless driven by alternative purposes. The only reason she could come up with for his proposal was that he had needed to get into her father’s house, and had used her as an excuse to do it.
A part of her hated him for his callous disregard of her feelings. For approaching her at the ball, and using his smooth and debonair ways to verbally seduce her into thinking he was something he wasn’t.
But that was the cool arrogance of someone like him, Cecily reminded herself sternly. After all, he had a job to do, and there was clearly no room for sentiment in carrying out the work of the Star Elite.
“So what does my father have to do with it?” Cecily’s voice was cool and smooth yet held a steely hint of determination that wasn’t lost on Jamie.
He sighed and turned toward her. “I cannot go into too much detail.”
Cecily rolled her eyes and snorted in disgust. “You have dragged me half way across the country to –” she glanced around the wooded glade askance, “where the hell are we?”
“On the Cumbrian border,” Jamie replied with a wary smile.
“I get shot at, threatened by French assassins, dressed up, scared witless and now held in a house in the middle of nowhere, miles away from everything I hold dear, and you tell me that you cannot tell me why?”
“Look, I am not saying that I cannot tell you what you want to know, but I cannot tell you all of it,” Jamie reasoned, pushing to his feet.
It wasn’t lost on him that she looked stunning. Despite her masculine attire, her long legs were encased lovingly in the smooth material that outlined her feminine curves to perfection. The afternoon sunshine had brought a delicate glow to her features that made him want to touch her, just to see if she was real. He sighed, and tried to think of what he could actually tell her without raising her ire.
“I think we need to go somewhere where we can talk without the risk of people overhearing us,” Jamie murmured, moving toward the pathway that ran back to the house. “There is a change of clothing on the bed in your room. When you have changed, and had something to eat, come down to the study and I will answer your questions.” He paused, clearly waiting for Cecily to precede him along the path.
“Fine,” Cecily snapped, knowing she was being rude and churlish. She stomped down the path like a general leading an army, marching resolutely toward the house with the determination of an avenging angel. Jamie mentally shook his head as his eyes scanned the lawns around them. Although he was fairly certain they had gotten away from the house without being seen, he had learnt through his work with the Star Elite that it was never good to take too many things for granted. He couldn’t lose sight of the fact that there was only him and Jonathan to protect her. That thought didn’t sit very well with him but, for the time being at least, there was nothing he could do about it.
As they walked to the house, Cecily caught sight of a shadowy figure standing in the window of one of the rooms. The shadows within the room made it impossible to identify who it was, but Cecily lifted her hand in greeting anyway only to mentally shrug when the person merely turned away from the window.
“Don’t worry, Miss Emstridge is a little odd, but you will get used to her.”
“I don’t plan to be here that long,” she replied pointedly, branching off the lawn toward the kitchen door. “I won’t be long.”
She didn’t wait to see if Jamie was following her. She was determined that she would get the answers she needed before deciding for herself what her future was going to be like. But, despite her best efforts, she couldn’t ignore the tiny voice deep inside her that warned her that her pathway was going to be completely different, and far more difficult, than her sisters.
CHAPTER SIX
Cecily walked into the study an hour later feeling significantly more like herself. It felt strangely familiar being back in a dress and she revelled in feeling the silken material of the pretty day dress swirling around her legs while she walked. Although the breeches had been comfortable, there was nothing like the freedom of having loose fittin
g clothing that allowed her to be a true female.
She was also glad of the opportunity to get rid of the dusty and smelly clothes but had carefully folded them to wash out later rather than throw them away. For now though, she had questions to ask, and she wasn’t going to leave the study until she had answers.
Standing at the doorway to the study, she heard the quiet click of a door further along the corridor and turned, expecting to see someone beside her. The presence of someone else in the wide hallway was profound and she was slightly shaken to find herself alone. Shaking her head at the strange feelings the house seemed to invoke, she pushed open the door without bothering to knock.
Jamie was sitting behind a wide, highly polished desk, a huge pile of parchment sitting at his elbow. His hair was endearingly rumpled having clearly had his fingers running through it on numerous occasions. She hid a smile as she watched the unconscious gesture that settled the tumble of hair on his head in disarray, giving him a rather studious look.
Sensing another person present, Jamie glanced up and froze. He had ordered Mrs Nantwich to purchase several dresses, and whatever female paraphernalia Cecily would need for her stay, but the last thing he had expected to be available in the town was the graciously elegant day dress Cecily wore with such stunning effect.
Her wild tumble of curls had been elegantly confined into a knot on the top of her head with only a few wisps allowed to lovely curl around her unblemished complexion. The small blue flowers on her dress emphasised, with startling clarity, the cool blue of her eyes and together, the combination made her simply captivating.
Pushing to his feet Jamie coughed uncomfortably and waved a vague hand toward the hearth chairs.
“Take a seat while I will ring for some refreshments.” He had no idea where the awkwardness was coming from, but he needed a few precious moments to gather his scattered wits. The sight of her dressed in modest refinery was simply staggering. He found himself wondering what she would look like bedecked in the most expensive clothing available, lavishly embellished with the bucket load of jewels currently secreted in his safe. He wondered if he would be able to withstand the sight of her looking so glorious, let alone be brave enough to allow her out into society looking so ravishingly beautiful.
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