Scandal's Promise

by Gibson, Pamela

  Andrew frowned. “Are you sure? Noblemen order those boots from Hoby.”

  “Or the man was a thief who stole them.”

  “I wonder what he was doing here.”

  A memory flashed, a strange man running into the woods. He’d thought him a tradesman even though vendors delivering goods to the Hall took them directly to the kitchen. He’d dismissed the event as unimportant at the time, but now . . .

  “I saw someone a few day ago, fleeing into the trees. He came from the house, but I was sure he was not one of the servants. Maybe he was the same man, and he was living in the abandoned cottage.”

  “It could be the kidnapper.”

  The elements of the mystery seemed to grow each day. “I came to find you because I received another threatening note. It was with the post but looked like it might have been placed there.”

  “Do you think the man can still get inside undetected?”

  “It appears so.” He would have to take action. George could no longer remain, because it was obvious Andrew was the target and George had been a means to an end. “I’m going to take the boy to Lady Emily. I thought he’d be safer here. Now I’m not sure. I’ll send Mrs. Townsend and a footman with him.”

  “Will you go to the magistrate about the notes?”

  “I have to, especially now that you’ve been attacked. When I reported the attempted abduction, he told me there was nothing he could do. He will say the same about your assault, but at least he will be alerted.”

  Andrew hurried to his study. He should send Emily a note, but there wasn’t time. When Ralston arrived, he’d bring George back home. His friend was due back and would remain until the holidays.

  Am I putting Emily and her aunt in in danger?

  He hoped not, because he had run out of ideas.

  Chapter 27

  “I beg your pardon, milady.” Alice stood stiffly by the door. “You have a visitor. Lord Cardmore and a young person.”

  “What?”

  Something must have happened. Emily secured her sewing needle and left the frock on the table. “Are they in the drawing room?”

  “Yes, milady.”

  Paying no heed to her appearance, she bolted down the stairs. Outside the door, she told the footman to bring refreshments, then entered with as much dignity as she could muster, given a pin had loosened a lock of hair and her oldest gown had a frayed hem.

  “Lady Em!” George slid from his chair and ran over to her with arms outstretched. She leaned down and brought his small body in for a hug.

  “Let me look at you. You’ve completely recovered?” Her eyes met Andrew’s, and he gave a quick nod. Children shook off adversity like a dog sheds water. She suspected he may still have a nightmare or two—’twas only natural after being locked in a dark cupboard—but he did not cower or try to be obscure. He was resilient. Exactly like his father.

  Only Andrew said he was not George’s father.

  She would not dwell on that today. She sat near the tea table and folded her hands in her lap. “What brings you here, milord?”

  Andrew hesitated and tilted his head toward George, who had returned to his chair and sat like a little gentleman. Emily took the hint. “George, how would you like to see the horses in my stable?”

  “You have horses?” His eyes widened, and he grinned with delight. “May I, Papa?”

  “Of course.”

  Emily rang for the footman and gave him instructions. “When you’re through showing Master George the horses, please take him to the kitchen. Tell cook I wish him to try one of the cakes left from last night’s dinner.”

  The footman took George by the hand and led him out.

  She closed the door, reopening it a crack for propriety’s sake. “Now tell me what is this all about?”

  “Drake was attacked in one of my vacant cottages. I believe someone has been hiding out there, perhaps the one who tried to take George, and has somehow been slipping notes into my post.”

  Emily’s breath caught. “Is Mr. Drake all right?”

  “He is, but he has a nasty lump on his head.”

  She wrung her hands. “Poor man. Did he see his assailant, or did the man disguise his face like he did when he bound Mrs. Townsend?”

  “Drake was struck from behind. But he made a curious remark. He said before he passed out, he glimpsed the man’s boots. Expensive boots. Wellingtons.”

  Stunned, Emily sat next to Andrew. Taking his cold hand in hers, she reached up with the other and turned his lowered face toward her. “This has to stop. Someone is ruthless. You must clear your head and come to some conclusion.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m talking about all the medication you take. When I became acquainted with my cousin Miranda, I told her about the pain in your shoulder not healing and how you surely must be draining a bottle of laudanum each day only to have the pain return. She said you must stop using it. Her late husband, Will, was a surgeon and had treated cases where constant use led to dependence which affected memory and perception.”

  He glared at her. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “She said on one occasion a man who used it regularly for pain became lost in the woods and holed up in an old hunting lodge. When they finally found him, he had been without the drug for several days. He said he’d gone through the agonies of hell, but curiously his leg was pain free. He never used it again.”

  “How is that possible?” Andrew rose and paced. “What is the point of this discussion?”

  Her gaze followed his movements. “You need your wits about you to solve this dilemma. First George, then Drake. Who will be next—me?”

  He pulled her up in front of him. “I would never put you in harm’s way, but I’m running out of options. The Hall isn’t safe right now, and I know you care for George. I hope he can remain here for a day or two, at least until Ralston returns. I need to know he’s with someone I trust.”

  “You’re starting to care for him then?”

  “Yes.” His arms came around her, and he brought her body close, resting his chin on top of her head. “I didn’t want to—he looks so much like Caroline—but I find I cannot help myself.”

  His body felt good against hers, bringing back the memory of the night she’d wantonly lain naked in his arms. She moved back to look into his eyes as his mouth slowly lowered to hers, his kiss warm and probing, bringing a rush of lust to her breasts and a tingling between her thighs. She pressed her body against his, feeling the hard ridge against her core. A pulsing ache made her rub against it, eliciting a moan from the man who had always been her love—her only love.

  He ended the kiss and jumped back as the door opened and Mrs. Whittington entered. Emily glided to a chair, her face flaming.

  “Lord Cardmore.” Aunt Lily turned her back on Emily and faced Andrew. I met young George in the stableyard. What a fine lad he is. I also saw Mrs. Townsend in the kitchen. She thanked me for recommending her. I take it she and the boy are staying here for a while?”

  “Yes, madam. If you would allow it, I would be grateful. He would greatly love a drawing lesson, if you have time.”

  “Of course. I’d be delighted.”

  He paused. “George’s presence here might be dangerous.”

  “Nonsense. We’re well protected. We are happy to have him. Aren’t we, Emily?” She sat behind the tea table as refreshments arrived. “I understand you’ve had some trouble at the Hall.”

  Andrew filled her in on the latest development, including the threatening missives. They discussed the scenarios everyone had come up with. Aunt Lily decided it must be a disgruntled junior officer from his regiment, perhaps one he’d reprimanded or somehow disgraced. She based her deduction on the strength required to subdue a man, knowledge of hi
dden passages in many noble properties, and the boots. It only made sense it was not one of the villagers.

  Emily listened to all of this while watching the play of emotions on Andrew’s face. She was disappointed he had been affronted by her suggestion to cut down on his doses of laudanum. She’d noticed how frequently he used it and fretted that he seemed dependent on it for his pain.

  She had to admit bringing George to her gave her happiness. She’d take him out to help gather the greenery, and maybe they’d find enough mistletoe for a kissing bough. In another day the ground would be drier, and they could visit the forest behind the house, the one bordering the Cardmore estate. As long as she took the grooms with her, they should be perfectly safe. Before he left, she’d make sure Andrew knew her plans. Perhaps he could meet them at the lake, and they could all have this adventure together.

  George and Mrs. Townsend entered the room.

  Emily walked over to them. “Mrs. Townsend, you may take the lad up to his room for a rest now, if you wish. The footman will show you where to go.”

  “We’re staying then? His lordship wasn’t sure.”

  “Our nursery has been cleaned and aired in expectation of a visit from my cousin’s family. Both of you can be quartered there. And I assure you there are no secret entrances to those rooms. If so, my brothers would have found them when they slept there.”

  “Papa, I forgot Snowflake. Will you take care of him for me?”

  Andrew lifted the boy into his arms so they were face-to-face. “It would be my honor to have Snowflake share my bed.”

  “And Juniper, too?”

  “She is always welcome.”

  He put down the boy, who was whisked away by his nurse. “Thank you, Mrs. Whittington, for your kindness.” He kissed her hand.

  “The pleasure is mine.”

  “Lady Emily, would you walk me out?” Andrew asked.

  “Of course.” She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and followed him out to the front of the house.

  “Send word if there is anything out of the ordinary.”

  “I promise.” She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Tomorrow I’d like to go out and gather some greenery for the house. Can you meet us at the lake? I’ll bring a basket of refreshments, and we can venture into the forest together. I’ll have two strong grooms and my maid with us. In fact, if I can, I’ll try to persuade Aunt Lily to go as well.”

  “Would it be all right if we waited one more day? Ralston should arrive by then, and there will be one more man in the party whose eyes and ears are not impaired.” Emily winced at his sarcasm.

  “I am sorry if I offended you. But can you not try?”

  “You don’t understand. I have tried. I cannot.”

  He seemed distressed. She dropped his hand. “Very well. Tomorrow we’ll see if Aunt Lily can give George a drawing lesson, and the next day we’ll gather the Christmas greenery. I believe there are holly bushes scattered about if we need more decorations. I think George will enjoy the outing.”

  “Thank you.” He tipped his hat and mounted his horse. “In two days’ time then. Keep him safe for me.”

  “I shall.”

  She turned back toward the house, her heart beating wildly. His attitude often perplexed her. Did he not realize how thin he was becoming, how his face sometimes appeared pinched, how his thoughts seemed confused?

  Andrew had always been fastidious in his appearance, and analytical in thought. While he knew he had to run a vast estate one day, his secret passion had been science. He’d often taken her to lectures when they’d been courting and had loved to discuss the logic of various theories. Lately he seemed to grapple with abstract ideas, unable to put them in neat boxes as he might have done in the past.

  Your thoughts would be scrambled, too, if someone was out to harm you.

  Even so, his distress made her want to hold him close and make everything right, just as she had when he’d been abused by his father. Love, nurtured from an early age, did not turn off because the person was not doing as you ask. It made you more resolute, more determined to alter the downward course.

  She cared for him, although she could not risk accepting the proposal he’d offered in a fit of passion. Right now, he needed a friend more than a lover.

  She climbed the stairs to the nursery. The child would cheer her up. His enthusiasm made her smile, and she needed to brighten her mood.

  Chapter 28

  Ralston arrived late in the night and had gone straight to the chamber prepared for him. Rising early, he’d breakfasted and wandered around the grounds. Andrew found his friend in the stables giving instructions to the stable boy regarding his horse’s care.

  He clapped his friend on the back and led him into the warm library. “Thank you for coming. The days leading up to Christmas were never happy ones in this house, and I was not looking forward to the season. I invited Bronwyn’s family, but they declined. They’re going to Lord Danby’s family. Would you like to spend the holidays here?”

  “I would. You’ve saved me from my sister’s brood. How one woman can have seven children and cheerfully keep popping them out is mind-boggling. Speaking of offspring, how’s George?” He took the cheroot Andrew offered and sprawled in the chair in the library.

  “As welcome and bright as a gold coin. I discovered he knows his alphabet and can read simple sentences. I’ve managed to track down a tutor for him. The man has sterling references and was looking to stay in the village.”

  Ralston grinned. “I knew the lad would wear down your reluctance to have him here. Even I felt a bit of envy that you had him in your life. And me a hardened bachelor. Where is the lad?”

  “I’ve had to stow him at Langston Grange. We’ve had a bit of trouble, and I thought it better to get him away from the Hall.” He filled Ralston in on the new developments and all the theories put forth.

  Ralston set his unlighted cheroot down on the table. “I cannot countenance the kidnapping of a child or violence toward your steward. The bloody bastard has to be apprehended. Has there been anyone new who has turned up in the village asking questions about you or the Hall? Surely you’ve made inquiries.”

  Andrew rubbed his shoulder. “It seems I cannot think these days.”

  “You’re not still taking that foul stuff, are you?” Ralston’s tone was incredulous.

  “I must. It’s the only way to relieve the pain.” Andrew studied a red mark on his palm and idly traced it with his fingertip. “Emily thinks I should stop taking it. Says it might be making the pain worse when the dose wears off. It’s nonsense, of course. But her cousin’s first husband—a surgeon—apparently recommended disuse for those who had taken laudanum for a long period of time.”

  “Sounds like wisdom to me. I’ve told you, I don’t like seeing you like this.”

  “You, Emily, Lady Longley—who else? Juniper the cat? At least when the pain calms I can go about my duties.”

  And that was another thing. He was beginning to lose his temper at the least provocation. Annoying comments set him off. He even threw a shoe at Lester the other day.

  What has happened to me?

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “I do apologize for the outburst. I hope you slept well, because we have an activity today. I promised Emily we’d meet her at the lake this afternoon for an outing. She wants to take George to gather greenery to decorate the Grange before her family arrives, and we should probably join her—make this place festive for the boy. We’ll ride over and collect him when we’re through.”

  “Is it safe to take George into the woods?”

  “I believe so. You and I, Emily and her aunt, and a couple of grooms will be about. We’ll take a groom as well and a cart to bring our haul back.”

  “Then I’m game. I haven’t done that in years.
”

  They finished their libations, chatted about current events, and after nuncheon, they changed into clothes suitable for the outing. Wearing heavy coats and gloves along with their hats, they followed the well-worn path toward the lake with a lad promising to follow with the cart and various pieces of equipment needed to cut boughs. The path was dry and the sky a crystal blue.

  “Remember the popular song carolers used to sing when they arrived at doorsteps on Christmas Eve?” Andrew asked.

  “You mean ‘Hey Nonny Nonny.’”

  “That isn’t a carol.”

  “Oh, you mean ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.’” They both broke into song as they walked, laughing when the song ended.

  “You know, Ralston, we never sang in our house after Mama died. I had to wait until Cambridge to learn most of the traditional carols households sang during the Christmas holiday.”

  “For a religious man, your father missed out on a lot that made Christmas special.”

  “He was more a Cromwellian Christian. No merriment. No gifts.”

  “Speaking of which, are you still game to give George the pony?”

  Andrew brightened. “I am. We’ll have it brought to the stable in a few days and surprise him on Christmas morning. Perhaps Emily can be present. She’s the one who thought of it.”

  “Can she arrange to leave her family? They may not like the fact you two have become friends again.”

  Ralston was a practical man, and no, he hadn’t thought of it. Surely if she knew about the gift, she could contrive to visit for a half hour on Christmas morning and then go back.

  “I’ll tell her about it today. Perhaps she can slip away or devise a good reason to be gone for a half hour. Emily is intelligent, and she dotes on the boy.”

  They reached the lake, and Andrew sniffed the air. The fresh smell of pines reminded him of the only peace he’d had in this place growing up. Voices and laughter grew closer. Emily and Mrs. Whittington strolled up with George between them.