Knight For A Lady (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 3)

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Knight For A Lady (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 3) Page 14

by Elizabeth Bailey

Her eyes met his and her cheeks flew spots of colour. “Thank you, no. It is an excellent meal, sir, only I’m afraid I still have a poor appetite. You must blame my recent illness.”

  Niall did not protest, but he was inclined to believe it an excuse. Her appetite was clearly lacking, but as she was in much better bloom than formerly, he declined to accept it was due to her physical condition.

  Had she taken his reference too much to heart? Did the thought of marriage with him cause her so much unrest? His spirits dropped a trifle and he was hard put to answer the vicar’s random remarks with any degree of sense.

  He noted his agent’s narrow regard, and was glad when Eddows took it upon himself to enlighten the Reverend Westacott as to the state of his crop fields.

  The butler and one of the maids began to remove dishes and replace them with the second course. Niall seized the opportunity to draw Edith’s attention, speaking low.

  “Have I embarrassed you? If so, I am sorry for it.”

  She started, as if from a reverie, consternation in her eyes as they flew to his. “No, of course not. Forgive me. My mind was wandering.”

  Where? But Niall did not ask. He was glad of the friendlier note in her voice, and seized the chance to make up for his earlier error. “I’m relieved you don’t despise the fare, for Mrs Radway has been quite anxious.”

  Edith’s warm smile appeared. “She has nothing for which to blush. Besides, my uncle and I are used to much plainer dinners.”

  “I hope you are moved to praise the syllabub. Mrs Radway tells me it is Cook’s speciality.”

  “Then I will certainly sample it.”

  She was as good as her word, taking care to finish the helping served into her bowl and murmuring her appreciation as Hempsall removed it. “Pray tell Cook that I have rarely tasted anything as good.”

  The butler looked gratified, and Niall could not avoid the pleasing thought that she would make the perfect countess. Mrs Radway came herself to escort Edith to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port. Niall took care to assure her they would not be far behind.

  When he re-entered the drawing room, the butler had already set up the table for the two older men and placed the board and the box of chessmen ready. He found Edith browsing a set of books in the glass-fronted cabinet at one side of the room and went across as the vicar and Eddows took their places for their game of chess.

  “Ah, you’ve found my cousin’s collection of novels, I see.”

  She turned, an open book in her hands, and looked up. “I take it these belonged to his wife?”

  “I imagine so. I understand she used this room for her leisure hours.”

  Edith glanced about at the somewhat mismatched furnishings and the pretty drapes. “It is a cosy apartment. You have larger ones, no doubt?”

  “Yes, but not yet fit for use.”

  A tiny frown appeared between her brows. “Were things left so badly?”

  “Indeed, but no blame attaches to my cousin. I gather the deaths took everyone unawares and the usual precautions for leaving the rooms untended were not taken.”

  Edith’s brows rose as she snapped the book shut. “What you mean is that nobody thought to drape the furniture in Holland covers, nor shutter the windows, and the whole place became dusty and the carpets have begun to fade.”

  He grinned down at her. “Your housewifely instincts are not at fault. Though I think the shutters were closed in due course.”

  “But it was months of neglect, I suppose?”

  “Yes, for the lawyers had all to do. First they had to track down who was heir, and then it took them an age to locate my whereabouts. The house suffered as well as the estate. Nearly all the servants left and Mrs Radway and Hempsall could hardly manage the place alone.”

  “Heavens, what a task you have in hand!” She set the book she was still holding back in its place and closed the cabinet doors. “You will need an army to set it all to rights. What a pity you cannot call upon your former company.”

  He laughed. “They would be utterly useless in a domestic capacity.”

  “Indeed? I had formed an idea that soldiers were particularly adaptable.”

  “Not all of them.”

  Her eyes quizzed him. “Just you? Well, I knew you were a rare specimen, but I had not expected to find you unique.”

  “If we were not alone, ma’am, I’d take pleasure in showing you just how unique I can be.”

  “Threat or challenge, my lord?”

  “Both!”

  She laughed then and Niall rejoiced at the lightness of the sound. He touched her elbow, guiding her in the direction of a sofa placed against the wall, a little removed from the two men now engrossed in their game of chess. Once involved, Niall guessed they would have little attention to spare for anything else, but he was anxious not to be overheard.

  “Come and sit down.”

  She went where he guided her and took a seat, looking up at him in an expectant way that at once made him nervous. He hovered a moment.

  “You will not be cold so far from the fire?”

  “I am not such a poor creature, sir. Besides, it is a warm night.” She went on as he took his place, a little removed so that she might not feel threatened. “I have not been used to having my comfort particularly regarded. Mrs Vinson, my employer you must know, was excessively kind, but her thoughtfulness did not stretch to wasting coals on unnecessary fires in the summer.”

  Niall wanted to express his intention of paying every possible attention to her comfort for the future, but he was apprehensive of causing her to withdraw again. He chose a random question instead. “What in particular did you teach?”

  She let out a sound almost as explosive as a snort. “Everything! I was employed initially to teach French and deportment, but I soon found myself detailed to cover anything needed.”

  “Were your girls of every age?” Not that he had much interest, but Niall wanted to keep her talking.

  “We took girls from seven years old to seventeen. But latterly I was mainly in charge of the older girls.” The teasing glint appeared. “It seems I have enough of a managing disposition to be successful with them, where my colleagues were not.”

  “I cannot imagine how in the world they are coping without you.”

  He regretted his words at once, for her features clouded and her eyes went dim. Damnation! A devil in him, wanting to know, took his tongue.

  “What happened, Ede? Was it on account of Kilshaw?”

  She stiffened, a spark entering her eye. “I thought we were to have an evening free of his name.”

  “Yes, I meant it so. I’m sorry. Only I can’t help wishing —” He broke off, seeing the deepening of anger — or was it? With difficulty, he refrained from seizing her hand. “Don’t heed me! I didn’t mean it. It’s not important.”

  Her lips were compressed, but she opened them and a metallic tone emerged through their stiffness. “Yes, but it is, Niall. To me. And clearly to you as well.”

  He wanted to disclaim, but it would only make things worse. “Let us dismiss the subject.”

  “By all means.”

  But there was ice in her voice still. Niall hurried into speech. “I meant to tell you more about the house.”

  “Did you?”

  It was not encouraging, but he persisted. “Or rather, I meant to ask your uncle about it. I’m persuaded he will know its history.”

  He was operating on instinct, throwing this in as if he’d seriously thought about it. He hadn’t. It occurred to him out of desperation. He eyed her, trying to see if this gambit was working.

  She was regarding him with a steady gaze, her thoughts unfathomable behind the stiff mask of her face. Talk of mysteries! She was an enigma sometimes. A faint smile dissipated the discomfiting expression.

  “An excellent ploy, Niall. I must suppose you have learned such quick thinking on the battlefield.”

  He could not prevent a rueful laugh escaping. “I might have known you had too mu
ch wit to be fooled.”

  Her lips quirked. “Do tell me all about the history of your house.”

  “Wretch! I had rather administer a salutary lesson, but I dare say that is out of count.”

  He warmed to her laughter, not a little relieved.

  “Count yourself lucky not to receive one instead. I can give as good as I get, you know.”

  “I’m fully aware of that,” he replied feelingly. “And I think I have already had my lesson from you, several times over.”

  She bubbled with so much mirth it caught the attention of the chess players. Eddows contented himself with turning his head briefly, but the Reverend Westacott waved a cheery hand.

  “I am glad you are enjoying yourself, my dear Ede. It is about time you had a taste of frivolity.” With that, he returned to the fray and Niall found Edith twinkling at him.

  “There, sir, you are a source of frivolity. I’ll wager you never thought to be so while plying your trade in the muddy fields of India.”

  Niall’s heart warmed and the words slipped out before he could stop them. “I do love you, Ede.”

  To his surprise and delight she did not look away. Her gaze roved his, seeming to seek the truth in his eyes. She looked as if she would have spoken, but the opening of the door sent her gaze away from him and Niall gave an inward curse as he turned to find his butler on the threshold.

  “Mr Peter Eddows, my lord. He informs me his errand is urgent.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Edith did not know whether to be glad or sorry the tête-á-tête had been interrupted. She was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her countenance and maintain her determination to keep Niall at arm’s length.

  Beset by a riffle of disappointment, she watched the hasty entrance of a fresh-faced young man whose countenance was vaguely familiar. His glance swept the company and fixed upon Niall.

  “My lord, he’s gone!”

  Bewilderment warred with instinct and a pounding started up in Edith’s heart. Could he mean Lord Kilshaw?

  Mr Eddows was on his feet as Niall strode forward.

  “Gone? You mean he’s left the place or you’ve lost him?”

  “The devil’s in it I don’t know, my lord!”

  The lad, looking both harassed and dismayed, cast a glance at Eddows, who came up to lay a hand on his shoulder.

  “Calm yourself, my boy. Just tell his lordship what happened.”

  The disturbance in Edith’s heart increased. There could be no doubt he was talking of Lord Kilshaw. Young Peter, whom she supposed to be the agent’s son, must have been detailed to watch him. And he’d escaped! The young man was obviously upset at his own failure.

  “I can’t be sure of anything, sir. He dined at his usual time, that I know, for I saw the waiters coming and going to his private parlour.”

  “At what time?”

  The lad’s eyes went back to Niall. “Just after four, my lord. I thought — I supposed he was safe ensconced in the parlour and…” He faded out, threw a look at Eddows, who nodded. Swallowing, he resumed. “I took my eye off him for a space. I had occasion to leave the inn and I — I’m sorry for it, my lord, but there’s no use deceiving you —”

  “Give me a round tale, regardless of mistakes.”

  Niall’s tone remained calm enough but Edith noted the tightness at his jaw.

  “Well, it was a mistake, my lord,” said the lad, throwing another anxious glance at his parent, “for I got into a — a conversation with — with someone —”

  Eddows groaned. “Some pretty chit, you mean? When will you learn, Peter?”

  “I’m sorry, Father.”

  “Never mind that,” Niall cut in. “So you were otherwise engaged for a space. Where were you? In the yard?”

  Young Eddows, who had been looking chastened at his father’s words, now exhibited all too much consternation. “No, my lord, that’s just the point. I’d gone out the back, but I met —” He cleared his throat. “I met the girl as I was coming back and, one thing leading to another, we — er —”

  He reddened, his gaze flying to the vicar and at last discovering Edith’s presence. His colour deepened and Edith was conscious of a reprehensible desire to laugh. He must suppose she would be shocked to realise he had been lured into amatory dalliance.

  Eddows was looking both annoyed and resigned, but Niall brushed it aside.

  “Yes, very well, but when you returned to your duty, what happened?”

  The worst of his confession no doubt now out, the young man began to look a little less hangdog. “I went directly to the spot from where I could watch the parlour door unobserved, my lord, and waited. After a bit, I realised it was quiet in there. Too quiet. And none came in or out for the best part of a half hour.”

  His father exploded. “Good God, boy! I’ve spawned an idiot! Did you not think to check at once? Could you not have pumped the waiters?”

  Niall threw up a hand to silence his agent. As well, Edith reflected, since young Eddows looked to be about to burst into tears.

  “That will do. Time enough for recriminations when we know the whole. I presume you then went on the hunt, Peter?”

  “Yes, my lord,” said Peter miserably, “but there was no sign of Lord Kilshaw, either in the inn or outside. And then I found his curricle was gone. I ventured to question Louch, the landlord you must know, and he said his lordship had paid his shot. The ostlers couldn’t tell me which way he went either.” The boy’s tone became eager. “I mounted my horse and rode at once to Itchington Bishops to see if he’d driven in that direction, but there was no sign of his curricle, so he must have gone cross-country towards Warwick.”

  “Not necessarily.” Niall moved to the fireplace and drummed his fingers on the mantel. No one spoke, and Edith saw all three men watching him, waiting for his dictum.

  Had they been alone, she would have had no hesitation in rising and crossing to him, so full of question was her mind. Question as to Lord Kilshaw’s present whereabouts and as to whether he had abandoned his purpose. She could scarcely dare hope for the latter. Would he give in thus easily? He had made no move, shown no disposition to attempt her capture, and now he’d apparently left the district.

  Niall turned, his gaze going directly to the young man, who was looking more anxious now than distressed. “Do you have any recollection of the time between your leaving your post and returning to it?”

  Colour flooded the boy’s face again and he stammered in his response. “Not — not exactly, my lord. But — but I cannot suppose it to have been more than a half hour.”

  “Time enough. We must suppose he’d already made his arrangements for departure. Had he a valet with him?”

  “I don’t think so, my lord. To my knowledge there was just a groom.”

  “Very well then; let us suppose he had packed earlier and ordered his groom to be ready to depart as soon as he’d dined. Clearly you did not see anyone take a portmanteau out to the yard, so he must have had that carried down while you were otherwise occupied.”

  Did Niall gloss over the dalliance for the boy’s sake or because it did not interest him? Edith decided on the latter. It was scarcely germane and there was no way to tell whether or not he disapproved — except presumably insofar as it had affected the lad’s vigilance.

  “He might accomplish all that in a matter of minutes, my lord,” put in Eddows, moving a little in Niall’s direction. “I suspect even half an hour is an over-estimate.” With which, he cast a glance of censure at his son, who dropped his eyes, looking shame-faced.

  “Possibly.” Niall became brisk. “What I’m trying to establish is how far Kilshaw might have got before Peter realised his absence. He could well have passed through Itchington Bishops on the road to Tazewell Manor and carried on towards Kington, which would set him on a path in the direction of the capital. I know he has the intention of joining the Prince’s set in Brighton, for he told me so.”

  Edith could be silent no longer, rising quic
kly and moving into the fray. “Then you believe he might truly have gone? Have we done the trick? Has he given up?”

  The tumult in her bosom had settled, but it rose up again at Niall’s frown. “I wish we might make that assumption, but I fear it would be premature.”

  Her uncle, who had been a silent spectator of the little scene, now bounced out of his chair, moving to accost Niall with a hand to his sleeve.

  “What are you thinking, sir? Do you not suppose my poor Ede is safe yet?”

  His distress smote Edith to the heart, and she wished fervently she had not been obliged to involve him in this horrible mess.

  Niall’s smile was forced, she was persuaded. “We will not relax our vigilance, Reverend, be sure.”

  “Yes, but that does not answer me, my lord.”

  A sigh escaped him and he flung an apologetic look at Edith. “I’m sorry not to be more sanguine, but merely because the fox has gone to ground does not mean he’s ceased to be a menace.”

  Her uncle’s fingers fell from his sleeve and he came across to seize Edith’s hands.

  “My dear, how does this affect you? Are you as fearful as ever? I cannot wish to see you still so confined in this way.”

  Edith returned the pressure of his fingers, summoning a smile. “And I am all too dismayed at his lordship being obliged to maintain all these complex arrangements on my behalf.” Releasing his hands, she turned to Niall. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am, nor how sorry.”

  His mouth went into that lopsided curve. “Don’t be. It is an honour to serve you. And your reverend uncle, of course.”

  She was too relieved, despite his warnings, to be pessimistic. Recalling instances of the girls in her care when in the throes of guilt over a mistake, she turned her attention to the youth, who was clearly suffering agonies, as young persons did in such circumstances.

  “Mr Eddows, is it not? Or may I call you Peter?”

  His father at once cut in. “Miss Westacott, Peter. Make your bow, boy!”

  Flushing again, the young man made haste to obey, but Edith took his hand as his head rose again, smiling at him.

  “I think I remember you, Peter. When I was a girl, I envied you and your friends the freedom of your breeches to be able to climb trees and career all over the green on your hobby horses.”

 

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