“I am afraid not,” Lord Aniston replied.
“Oh. I thought maybe I had heard your name from my husband,” Emily explained.
“Who might that be?” Lord Cohen asked, his voice sounding strained—though he hid it well.
“Captain Paul Nielsen.”
A smile lit Lord Aniston’s bored eyes and he stepped forward. “I know him well. You must be proud of him. I recently heard he went back when Napoleon escaped from Elba.”
“Yes, he did,” Emily said with a suspicious sheen to her eyes. “Indeed, I am quite proud.”
“His family neighbors mine in Kent,” Lord Aniston explained. “We grew up together. Though I’ve been away, so I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance yet.”
Emily nodded again, taking Lord Aniston’s arm as he offered to escort her to the stairs.
Peter
“Mrs. Gressle said those words, didn’t she?” Peter asked, doing his best to control the anger heating his blood.
“Yes,” Kate said softly as she watched her friend walk away, then turned to Peter with determination. “But do not think for one moment that I take her seriously. Cranky old women often feel the need to find faults wherever they can. Even if they create them.”
“Well said.” Peter glanced to the stairs to find Mrs. Nielsen and Aniston climbing them, as Cohen covertly slipped away. He wondered if Kate noticed, but she seemed distracted. “And I hope you mean those words. You are generous and kind, Kate. The furthest thing from wily in this house.”
She glanced up at him, holding his gaze, and he swallowed hard. Kate was generous and kind. She was incredible.
But it was late, and Peter did not trust himself if they remained in this darkened corridor much longer. He cleared his throat. “Can I help you with anything before you turn in?”
“No,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. She lowered her voice. “I thank you for your kind hospitality, of course. I have only just been thinking that we seem no closer to figuring out who is behind Miss Smithson’s fall. I hope this week isn’t for naught. It would all feel rather silly, would it not?”
“She is under our watchful eyes,” he said reassuringly. “And for all we know, the culprit could be here, too. That is not a waste.”
“No, it is not.” Letting out a long sigh, Kate turned toward the stairs and took his offered arm.
“Can I interest you in a ride in the morning?”
“I would say yes, but I’ve already made plans with Emily to ride over and check on Mr. Cruikshank and my trees.”
“Has he been working out well then?”
“Oh, yes!” Kate turned to him and the joy on her face was adorable as she squeezed his forearm with both of her hands. “We get on together so well. And he is not condescending to me in the least when I ask for explanations. I cannot thank you enough for the introduction.”
“It was my pleasure.” Peter smiled down at her, his gaze roaming over her lips. He shocked himself by conjuring an image of leaning down and closing the space between them. An entirely delicious image.
A throat cleared and they both looked up to find Mrs. Nielsen waiting at the top of the stairs beside a smug Aniston.
Kate stepped away quickly, climbing the last few stairs and dipping a curtsy before taking Mrs. Nielsen’s hand and scurrying down the corridor. Aniston came to stand beside him and chuckled softly. “It looks like you’re smitten, old man.”
“Perhaps I am,” came Peter’s reply. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“No, not as long as she is worthy of you.”
They moved down the stairs toward the study where Marsh and Cohen had most likely escaped to. Sure enough they found both men by the fire, glasses of brandy in their hands and a dull silence to the room.
“Our captain here is in love,” Aniston said with the bored tone he had perfected over recent years. He was the youngest of the group by a good margin but the things that he had lived through kept him on par with the rest of them mentally.
“Ah, I had wondered,” Cohen said before taking a sip from his glass. “You could have shot arrows from your eyes after we heard what she was saying in the corridor.”
Peter shrugged before dropping onto the sofa and stretching his legs out in front of him. “It is pointless. Martin is ready to propose.”
Stunned silence took the room.
“But is she ready to accept him?” Marsh asked in his deep, wise voice. The man hardly spoke, but when he did, he did not mince his words.
Peter shrugged again, watching the flames lick the brick of the fireplace and picturing Kate standing beside Martin in the local church. That image made his stomach turn over.
“If there is no understanding between them, then it is not too late,” Aniston said with confidence. “Clearly she is not immune to you.”
“It is a complicated matter,” he said, thinking of the day in the woods so long ago when he had held her down at Charles’s bidding, imagining the moment that she connected the dots and the hatred that would surely steal her beautiful features.
A companionable silence fell upon them. If someone would have told Peter that he would be Captain over a viscount and two earls, and this before he had inherited the title of baronet, he would have laughed outright. It came to be, however, that his small company of men was among the highest ranking in their division as well as his closest friends. Though, not one of them had expected the title they had eventually inherited. Peter included.
They went through a particularly trying period together, losing Cohen to England when he had lost his hand and then Marsh, only to be followed shortly by Aniston and Peter himself at the last battle together. They understood one another in a way that others could not, and they supported and cared for each other without hesitation. It was why he had written to them the moment he’d thought of the house party. If anyone was going to help him to discover who was out for Miss Smithson, it was his men.
“Right, Captain,” Marsh said gruffly. “Why don’t you fill us in on why you’ve really called us here?”
28
Kate
“Perhaps we should wait until this afternoon,” Emily said, her breath fogging, billowing in a cloud before her.
“No.” Kate spoke unapologetically, not pausing her stride. “I am supposed to go driving with Mr. Evans this afternoon. But I do not want to wait until tomorrow to see the trees.”
“Very well,” Emily muttered, following Kate to the stables. “But I’m not sure how long I’ll last. It is so very cold.”
Emily requested their horses be saddled, and they waited, glad Mr. Gibson had already brought Apple and Josephine despite the early hour. The sun was rising steadily but had yet to burn off the layer of fog which blanketed the earth, hiding the approaching gentlemen from view until they had nearly reached the stables.
“Good morning,” Peter said when he and Lord Cohen came into view. “I thought with certainty I would beat you out here. Have you sent for your horses from Split Tree?”
“We did last night,” Emily said. “Kate’s stablemaster brought our horses this morning and they are being saddled now.”
“Very good.” Peter turned away, speaking with a groom before returning to the ladies. “Might we be so bold as to offer our escort this morning?”
Kate held his gaze, warmth filling her chest. “I am afraid it is bound to be a boring ride. I would like to check on my—”
“Trees,” Peter finished, his smile revealing a faint dimple on the side of his mouth. How had she never noticed it before now?
“Yes,” Kate said softly. Her cheeks grew warm, and she wondered if the reaction stemmed from the comment about the trees or the dimple. She found herself searching for somewhere to look, her gaze continually drawn to that dratted dimple. “Lord Cohen,” she said, hearing the strain in her voice. “Have you any interest in agriculture?”
“Quite a bit, actually,” he said, coming to her side as Apple and Josephine were brought out to the mount
ing block. He held Apple’s reins as Kate prepared herself to mount and said, “I have recently arrived back from the West Indies where I spent a good deal of time learning the sugar trade. I came home to focus on my family estate here in England, so if you have any helpful knowledge about farming, I would only be too glad to hear it.”
Kate chuckled politely, but when the man did not join her, she stopped. “Oh, you are in earnest? Forgive me, I am such a novice myself I could hardly have anything of use to share. But Mr. Balham is a good man to speak to, and he can recommend a great many books—many of which I’ve found helpful myself.”
Lord Cohen nodded, the twinkle in his pale green eyes betraying his amusement. Kate wished the ground might open right then and swallow her whole. Laughing like that at nobility? And she could not even remember his rank. Was this one the viscount? Oh heavens, she really hoped he wasn’t the earl.
The men mounted their large, powerful horses and Kate averted her eyes when she noticed Lord Cohen holding the reins with one hand, the other arm sitting limply in his lap. It was safe to assume that he had somehow lost his hand in the war, but she also expected that he didn’t appreciate stares.
“Shall we?” Peter asked, his reins slack in his hands as he sat in the saddle with relaxed confidence. Kate nodded, and the riders took off in the direction of her property, crossing onto Kingston land in short order.
Lord Cohen pulled his horse beside Apple and began an inquiry, in which Kate filled him in on her progress thus far with the estate, and the ideas and advice Mr. Cruikshank had brought with him. Peter and Emily fell behind them, and Kate caught snatches of a conversation centered around Paul, which did not surprise her in the least.
“Mr. Cruikshank!” Kate called as they neared the rows of infant trees. She understood that they were being transplanted and the possibility of losing some was inevitable, to say nothing for the fact that they would take at least three or four years to yield any fruit. But the sight of rows upon rows of miniature tree stalks was beautiful and made her heart soar. “This looks magnificent!” she said, sliding from her horse.
“The planting went better than I anticipated,” Mr. Cruikshank said with a bow, his thin hair blowing in the slight breeze. According to his references, he had worked at an estate similar to Kate’s when the owner had passed away unexpectedly and the new owners had brought their own steward with them. He was skilled at his job and would have had no trouble finding a new position, but Kate had applied to him first. Or, rather, Peter had. And she was grateful.
“Should we expect a yield in the autumn, then?” she asked, grinning.
“If you refer to the autumn three or four years from now, certainly,” Mr. Cruikshank said with a sad tilt to his brow. “Though, even that will hardly be sufficient for household use. We have years to go yet before we might look beyond our own kitchens.”
Kate nodded. She’d heard this before, but she couldn’t help hoping it would be different. “Oh, forgive me,” she said, directing her attention to her friends, who had all dismounted and were approaching now. “Let me introduce Lord Cohen. Of course, you already know Mrs. Nielsen and Sir Peter.” She turned to the rest of the party. “This is Mr. Cruikshank, my productive steward.”
The men bowed. “Good to see you again, Sir Peter,” Mr. Cruikshank said.
“I must thank you, Sir Peter, for introducing us,” Kate added. “I am sure I have already, but I am prodigiously glad.”
Peter nodded.
“The pleasure has been all mine,” Mr. Cruikshank said.
Peter
Peter wanted to imagine that Mr. Cruikshank was only being kind, but he was not fooled. Kate was an easy woman to fall for. He should know.
“How does your family go on?” Peter inquired, nodding politely as the man answered favorably. He had known Mr. Cruikshank in school years ago and had kept an occasional correspondence with the man. He was ahead of Peter in school by four years, but they’d forged a bond when Peter helped him to avoid Charles’s bullying. He shut his eyes to push the memories from his mind. Those were not pleasant years.
“I am not leaning toward trees, no,” Cohen was saying. “My brother believes wheat is the answer. I was considering horses, so I imagine it could be a conducive endeavor.”
Mr. Cruikshank was nodding, and the men began discussing the best climates for wheat. Kate had wandered toward the trees and Emily stood shivering, listening politely to the men. Peter left Domino—the obedient horse would stay put—and walked to where Kate was admiring a tiny apple tree.
“They look lovely,” he said.
“Oh, don’t they?” Kate beamed. “I cannot wait for Alice to get her hands on some of their fruit.”
“Alice?”
“My cook,” she answered absently. “She’s marvelous. You’ll see.”
Peter had to smile at the indication that she saw him as a regular fixture in her life. Until he realized he would be a regular fixture if she was to marry his brother. He swallowed the bitter taste that left in his mouth. “Have you truly made Split Tree your home then?”
Her eyes glazed over before she turned to him. “Yes, I believe I have. Did I tell you that I went into the library?” She chuckled softly and looked down. “I’ve yet to conquer the study, but that will be next.”
“Sometimes we build things up in our mind to be scarier than they are in reality.” He swallowed, feeling like a large, uncouth brute, unsure of himself. Well, that was a novel feeling. Peter valued his self-confidence, but Kate had a habit of making him nervous, of giving him reservations which were foreign to him. He cleared his throat, hoping to clear away the awkwardness. Lifting a shoulder, he said, “I can accompany you if you wish.”
The moment the words left his mouth he wished them back. What was he thinking? She had Mrs. Nielsen for a companion, and a very capable one at that. She did not need him.
“Oh, would you?” Kate asked, breathless. “I believe I could not be scared of anything if you were by my side.” She looked down, smiling wryly. “That makes me sound young and inexperienced, doesn’t it?”
“No,” Peter said. He was elated by her words but attempted to temper the feelings. It wouldn’t do to go and fall in love if she was to become his sister.
“Not to put a damper on the moment, but I am utterly freezing,” Mrs. Nielsen said from where she stood with the ladies’ horses.
“Yes,” Kate called back. “Let us return.”
Peter waited for Kate to move on and slipped to Mr. Cruikshank’s side. “Any developments?”
“Rumors within the stables,” he answered quietly. “Come by later and I’ll share what I know.”
Peter nodded, clapping the steward on the back before whistling for Domino and mounting in one fluid motion. Placing a trusted man on the estate had been a good move. Originally, he had intended to have Mr. Cruikshank around for an extra watchful eye on the ladies of Split Tree, for they had no male protection of their own. Now that there were nefarious acts going unexplained, he was glad to have a trusted confidant.
He only needed to trust his intuition to lead him to the culprit and he would solve this mystery and return safety to Larkfield once and for all.
Martin
Martin looked in on the women in the drawing room and swallowed frustration at not finding Kate among them. Lord Aniston was leaning toward Miss Smithson and saying something that caused her to giggle. She caught Martin’s eye as he was leaning in the doorway and shot him a victorious grin. He dipped his head back, wondering if she had given up on him. Could she be hoping to snag a lord this week?
Why Peter wanted to throw a house party at all was beyond Martin’s scope of understanding. He would happily reap the benefits of having Kate under his same roof, though. He was confident that if he proposed she would accept, and he decided that the ball at the end of the week would be the perfect setting. She would say yes, and they could announce it to the entire county at one time.
A smile touched his lips as he continu
ed to watch Miss Smithson. Lord Aniston was just a flirt—that was widely known. But there were also two other lords in the house, both closer to Peter’s age and undoubtedly ready to wed. Earldoms needed heirs—and Miss Smithson could very well be carrying one right now, if it was a boy. Not that she would inform any suitor before the wedding took place—but neither could she afford to be picky. Martin had made his position very clear.
If Lord Marshall wasn’t so withdrawn, he would be a decent catch. Good move inviting him, Peter. He had yet to show his face ever since the initial introduction.
Martin heard laughter in the foyer and clenched his jaw when he recognized it to be Kate’s. He watched her walk in on Lord Cohen’s good arm and say something that had the rest of their party laughing. Perhaps he should reevaluate his plan. If he claimed her now, then the others would understand that she wasn’t available. He watched the gentle sway of her skirts as she moved up the stairs toward her room, undoubtedly to change from her riding habit. He loved the deep green on her and imagined her in all manner of colors.
She was going to make a beautiful bride. And she was going to be his.
29
Kate
The house party was progressing splendidly. Kate did her best to watch Miss Smithson from a distance, which was not difficult considering how the women were not close friends. She was beginning to feel like maybe she had overreacted about the whole fall, but then Miss Smithson came down with an illness on the third morning of the house party that forced her to remain bedridden, a fever and occasional incoherence taking hold of her. Kate offered to sit with her for a spell, but her mother was worried about contagion and asked that Miss Smithson not be disturbed until the doctor could see to her first.
Meanwhile, Mr. Evans’s attentions increased tenfold. He sought Kate out often, begging to take her for drives, listen to her sing, or even read in companionable silence. She acquiesced for the most part, but occasionally begged to be excused—though she could see that it bothered him when she did.
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