by Regina Scott
Chapter Thirteen
As Asheram and David finished helping the servants put the damaged rooms to rights, they were having a similar conversation.
“Now do you see the truth of it?” Asheram demanded as they walked back toward the east wing. “Poisoning, crushing, burning. You’re in danger.”
David shook his head, feeling not a little weary from the day’s exertions. He had hoped to spend the morning breaking open and examining the secret room, but Asheram had cornered him with questions regarding the estate. Feeling guilty for letting the older man handle so many of his affairs, affairs that only the earl should be forced to deal with, David had submitted to a lengthy discussion in the library. He was glad that the smell of smoke had alerted them to the fire before the flames could do too much damage. As it was, the restoration would take most of the day. The hidden room with all its secrets would simply have to wait. At the moment, all he wanted was a hot bath, dinner, and time alone with Hannah. He knew he would be lucky if he got the first two.
“I’ll admit that these mishaps cut into my time to work on the estate,” he conceded to Asheram, “but if you look beyond that, I’d say I’ve been lucky. My favorite suit needs cleaning, and I burned my hand putting out the fire, but I didn’t get sick, I wasn’t seriously hurt by the bookcase falling, and nothing of any importance was destroyed. We should celebrate our good fortune.”
“And hold your funeral tomorrow,” Asheram grumbled. “At least let me post a footman outside your door.”
“What good would that do?” David countered, stretching stiff muscles. “No one has tried to smother me in my sleep so far. And don’t suggest I need a bodyguard or someone to taste my food. We’re not talking about passing along the crown here. There isn’t any heir but me.”
“Do we know that?” his friend challenged as they reached the door to David’s room. “What if someone else stands to gain? What if another Tenant descendant is lurking about the estate?”
“He has only to step forward, and I’ll give it to him,” David replied, trying not to be cheered by the unlikely idea.
“But he won’t know that. Perhaps he feels slighted that you had a better claim on the inheritance.”
“You should write melodramas,” David said, pushing open the door. “Next you’ll tell me this phantom long-lost cousin is hiding in the secret passageways.”
“Well?” Asheram demanded, following him in to the room. “How do you know he isn’t?”
Thinking of the locked door he had yet to open, David frowned. “I suppose it’s possible, but not very likely. Still, perhaps we should take a few precautions.”
Asheram smiled in triumph. David had a sudden vision of being followed everywhere by a phalanx of armed footmen. He’d never have another moment alone with Hannah.
“A few precautions,” he repeated sternly. “I don’t want our guests frightened.”
“The first precaution,” Asheram replied with equal severity, “should be to send our guests home.”
“No,” David told him. He strode to the wardrobe and began pulling off his soiled clothes.
He could feel Asheram frowning at him. “You’re going to propose to her, aren’t you?” he accused David.
David turned to grin at his friend. “I already did. She’s a fine woman, Ash. I’d be proud to have her at my side.”
“Spoken like a Boston leather carver,” Asheram argued. “Like it or not, you have to think like an earl.”
He was tired enough that the refrain hit a nerve. “If you ask me, I’m thinking exactly like an earl. The aristocrats of my acquaintance are relentlessly self-centered and selfish. I’ll marry whom I please.”
Asheram shook his head. “Very well. But what precautions are you willing to take that you’ll live long enough to see your wedding day?”
“Seal all entrances to the passageways we know about, except the ones in my and Hannah’s rooms.”
“Of course,” Asheram drawled.
David ignored the sarcasm. “Put the footmen to work as soon as they’ve recovered from today’s excitement. We don’t get many visitors out here, so we hardly need those strapping fellows at the front door. I want a constant patrol through the house, day and night.”
“Very good,” Asheram agreed with a nod. “And I’ll alert the household staff to watch for anything unusual. Thank you, my lord. You’ve set my mind at ease.”
David grinned at him again before returning to his changing. “With any luck, Ash, we’ll both live to see my wedding day.”
*
David was not as certain he’d have a wedding day any time soon after that evening. The conversation in the upstairs sitting room was desultory at best. Though it was a large room, the small, infrequent windows and crowded furniture made it feel cramped. Lady Brentfield was sullen; he supposed it was because of all the accidents spoiling her visit with her niece. Priscilla was distant, and Lady Emily regarded him so fixedly that he wondered whether he’d grown a third eye. Ariadne and Daphne could not maintain a conversation for long, and the frequent silence had become too lengthy to ignore.
Worst of all was Hannah’s behavior. She was solicitous toward everyone but refused to acknowledge any of his teasing remarks. Indeed, whenever he so much as included her in the conversation, she would pale and look away. Most of the night she did not even meet his eye. He was at a loss to explain her behavior until he asked about their visit to the village and was told about their reception by Reverend Wellfordhouse.
“He was quite charming,” Ariadne enthused. “I’m sure he’s a wonderful minister.”
David had immediately liked the fellow when he had met the vicar on his first tour of the area. The fact that they both tended to take a stroll to clear their minds had made William Wellfordhouse even more welcome. In conversation, he had found the vicar intelligent, well-spoken, and honest.
“I’ve always enjoyed the good reverend’s company,” he told his guests. “I’m sure he equally enjoyed the company of such lovely young ladies.”
Ariadne blushed, Daphne beamed, and Priscilla preened.
“Well, if you ask me,” Lady Emily put in, “he took the most interest in Miss Alexander. He went on and on about her painting. It was no wonder she was put to the blush.”
“Isn’t it entertaining how Miss Alexander manages to attract all the attention?” Lady Brentfield mused, sounding anything but entertained.
Hannah looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole.
So, William had had the audacity to flirt with her, had he? Why hadn’t David noticed how utterly lacking the man was in the social graces? He could not imagine what Hannah could see in him. William’s eyes were entirely too close together, giving him a dishonest look. And what kind of minister let himself to be distracted from his duties by a wealthy parishioner and four girls? David went to bed thinking that he should speak to Squire Pentercast who held the patent for Mr. Wellfordhouse’s living. Perhaps it was time they had a new minister in Wenwood. He was so furious he didn’t even think to try the hidden room.
The next morning, he wanted to shake himself for his unkind attitude. It was jealousy, plain and simple. William Wellfordhouse was a good man, and David supposed he would even be considered handsome by the ladies. Certainly the unmarried young women of the parish thought so. Their antics after services each Sunday had been amusing as they vied for his attentions. David could see that the soft-spoken country vicar would be far more compatible to the gentle Hannah than the earl of a vast estate. She had said she didn’t think she could be a countess. But the thought that Hannah might prefer the vicar’s attentions to his own made him greener than the spring grass.
He was still struggling with himself as he walked to the breakfast room to join his guests. He found all the girls up, although Lady Brentfield had not appeared. Hannah slouched at the far end of the table, pale and strained. If that was a woman smitten, she’d be dead before her nuptials. Something was bothering her, and he did not think it was William
Wellfordhouse. That it might be himself both reassured and troubled him. He had no opportunity to question or comfort her, however, for the girls set at him immediately.
“Will you spend the day with us, my lord?” Priscilla begged. “We’ve seen so little of you.”
Ariadne sighed. “The days are getting tiresome. It is enough to give one the megrims.”
“I for one could use some exercise,” Daphne put in.
“What has Lady Brentfield planned for you?” David asked, hoping the event would give him a chance for a moment alone with Hannah.
Lady Emily humphed. “Nothing.”
Hannah roused herself. “Lady Brentfield has not yet told us of her plans.”
“She probably won’t be up for hours,” Priscilla complained.
Ariadne, Daphne, and Lady Emily returned their gazes expectantly to his. He stared blankly back at them. Then inspiration struck.
“Why don’t you all go for a ride?” he asked.
As Ariadne, Daphne, and Priscilla perked up, Hannah slunk lower in her chair. David winked at her to assure her he meant her to stay home with him as before.
Lady Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Will you be joining us this time, my lord?”
So, she obviously remembered how he had sent them off last time. He felt not the least guilty. “Sorry, Lady Emily,” he explained. “I never learned to ride.”
They were all properly shocked by his confession, except Hannah, who nodded in understanding.
“But you must learn,” Priscilla told him. “All gentlemen ride. And you will be expected to lead the hunt.”
“I have no interest in learning to hunt fox or anything else,” David replied kindly, but he hoped firmly. “I’ll be happy to see you off this morning, if you like, but I won’t get on a horse. My own two legs serve to take me as far as I need to go.”
His strength of purpose was apparently enough to deter further requests. They turned their attentions elsewhere.
“But you’ll come with us, won’t you, Miss Alexander?” Ariadne pleaded.
Hannah looked even less pleased by the idea than he had felt. “I know I should as your chaperone, girls, but I never learned to ride either.”
“I simply do not know what the world is coming to,” Priscilla complained with a shake of her tousled curls. “An earl who doesn’t ride? A woman who teaches impressionable young ladies and doesn’t ride?”
“I don’t teach riding,” Hannah replied with some asperity.
“I have it!” Daphne cried, sitting straighter. “We’ll teach them both!”
Now Hannah looked downright dismayed, and David knew exactly how she was feeling. The other girls chimed in with their enthusiastic endorsement of the plan. Before David could think of a graceful way out, Lady Brentfield wandered in. A quick glance at her showed him that she looked even more tired than Hannah, but she wasn’t bothering to try to be pleasant.
“Lower your voices at once,” she demanded, sinking onto the nearest chair. “You woke me from a sound sleep with all your clatter.”
Ariadne and Daphne paled, exchanging glances. Lady Emily stiffened, mouth tightening. Hannah closed her eyes as if against a pounding headache.
Priscilla bit her lip. “Sorry, Aunt,” she murmured.
“What are you nattering on about anyway?” Lady Brentfield grumbled, glaring at the footman while he hastily brought her chocolate and cinnamon bread.
“Daphne conceived of a plot to teach Lord Brentfield and Miss Alexander to ride,” Ariadne volunteered with a smile of pride at her sister, who blushed.
David waited for the explosion. Lady Brentfield found his refusal to ride more galling than nearly any of his other plebeian habits. She would surely not forgo an opportunity to complain, especially in her current mood. He saw Hannah grimace and knew she expected it too. Lady Brentfield looked from one girl to the next. Her face broke into a beatific smile.
“Why, what a delightful idea! I’m surprised I didn’t think of it myself. Hurry with your breakfast, girls. We shall start this very morning.”
David stared at her, feeling the noose tighten. Hannah gasped as if she couldn’t breathe.
“Your ladyship, I hate to be the one to stop an amusement,” he started.
“Then don’t,” she finished airily. “You know you must learn, and you could not ask for more congenial teachers. Priscilla was practically born on horseback.”
He ignored the vision her words conjured. “I’m sorry, ladies, but I must refuse. I would be a poor pupil. I don’t even like horses.”
“Surely you wouldn’t disappoint your guests,” Lady Brentfield pressed, making the act sound as bad as if he had stolen their virtue. The girls gazed at him imploringly.
“Yes, I would,” he answered firmly. “I don’t ride. I won’t ride. Very likely I’ll never ride. Thank you for your concern, ladies, but I must say no.”
Their faces fell, but he refused to worry. He could not fall into the trap of trying to meet anyone’s expectations but his own.
Hannah was not so lucky.
“But we could still teach Miss Alexander,” Daphne ventured. Her friends brightened. Lady Brentfield picked up her toast and examined it thoroughly.
“Yes, I suppose we could,” she mused. “It won’t be nearly as entertaining, but some good might come of it.” She smiled a rather waspish smile at Hannah. “And you cannot cry off.”
Hannah swallowed. “It’s very kind of the girls to offer to teach me,” she allowed, “but I have as much interest in learning as Lord Brentfield. It is not a skill I need.”
“One never can tell,” Lady Brentfield replied darkly, rising. “It is decided then. Go change into your riding habits, girls.”
“I don’t even have a habit,” Hannah protested, standing as well even as the color blossomed in her cheeks. Her fingers clenched the tablecloth. David stood too, intending to put a stop to what was obviously distressing her.
“Priscilla can lend you one,” Lady Brentfield replied with a wave of her hand. “Give her that brown velvet thing your mother picked out, Priscilla. She has the most abysmal taste.”
“It will look lovely on you,” Priscilla assured Hannah, before hurrying from the room. Ariadne and Daphne scampered after her. Lady Emily paused to eye her. David waited for Hannah to make her refusal.
“You needn’t be afraid, Miss Alexander,” she told Hannah. “Riding can be rather pleasant. And you really should learn. My father would never let himself be painted by someone who was not versed in all the proper arts. I expect a number of gentlemen feel the same way. If you want to capture their attentions, you will have to prove you can live in their world. You don’t want to be consigned to painting only women. They can be so petty.” With an encouraging smile, she left.
“See you downstairs in an hour,” Lady Brentfield warned, leaving as well.
Hannah stared at David at the opposite end of the table. One look in those deep brown eyes and guilt overwhelmed him. He strode down the table and took her cold hands in his.
“I’ll tell them you refuse,” he assured her.
She shook her head with a sigh. “No. The girls need something to divert their attentions, and I shouldn’t anger Lady Brentfield any further. Besides, if riding makes me more appealing as a painter, then perhaps I should try. Horses are beautiful animals, to watch.” She shuddered, then straightened resolutely. “Perhaps it won’t be so bad to actually ride one.”
“Just to make sure, I’ll come along,” David promised her. She smiled gratefully up at him. The darkness of the morning vanished, and he bent to kiss her fingers. She slipped out of his grip and hurried away before he could do more.
An hour later, he stood with the ladies and Asheram in the courtyard outside the stables, eyeing a silver mare. Her eyes were as dark and gentle as Hannah’s, but she seemed inordinately large to David.
“Are you sure she’s a good choice?” he whispered to Asheram as Hannah approached the horse uneasily.
“She’s docil
e enough to be a good training horse,” his friend assured him, “but she has enough spring in her step to offer some interest. I don’t think you’d want me to put Miss Alexander up on a slug.”
“I think that’s exactly what Miss Alexander would like,” David argued, watching her stand stiffly beside the animal. He had to admit that Priscilla had been right--Hannah looked fetching in the deep brown velvet that hugged her curves and brought out the depths of her dark hair bound round her head in a coronet. Her face, however, was puckered with worry, and David’s heart went out to her.
“You must get to know the horse,” Lady Brentfield instructed. She walked around the mare, inspecting it. She paused to pat its flanks and adjust its saddle. “Talk to it.”
Hannah smiled wanly. “Nice horse,” she ventured.
Ariadne and Daphne giggled. Priscilla nudged them to silence.
“Haversham, put her up,” Lady Brentfield commanded, stepping away.
Hannah looked up at the saddle, just above her head. She stepped back. “I don’t think I can do this.”
David moved to her side to support her.
“Oh, don’t be a ninny,” Lady Brentfield snapped.
“So much for congenial teachers,” David murmured to Hannah. Aloud he ventured, “It does look rather high. How about if I hop up and check out the view first? Give me a hand, Ash.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Hannah said quietly beside him. The grateful look she cast him strengthened his resolve.
“If it will make you easier, I don’t mind,” he assured her. He turned to his friend, who had stepped up at his call. “All right, Ash. Pretend I’m a beautiful woman like Miss Alexander and hand me up into that contraption.”
“My imagination isn’t nearly so vivid, my lord,” Asheram quipped, but he cupped his hands, and David set his foot to push himself up backwards into the side saddle.