All factual signs pointed to Toby embezzling money and sending it … where? Obviously, he couldn’t ask his dead cousin, the man he called a great friend. Yet, he could ask his widow.
Maude Devere was in residence in his home. Uninvited. Perhaps she would pay for her keep by explaining a few things to him. Besides, it was time he spoke with her about the unauthorized sale of Jonling Hall.
Chapter Fourteen
“There you are, Cousin,” Ned’s voice was too close. “I was starting to think you were hiding from me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jenny said from her hiding place in the branches of their crabapple tree. “I often come up here to … to read.”
Unfortunately, she had no book with her, and even Ned was sure to notice that.
“And sometimes just to keep an eye on Thunder. I can see if he’s going to bother Lucy or the old Bay.”
“May I help you down?” he asked as if her being in a tree was perfectly reasonable.
Realizing after breakfast that Ned was looking for her, and fearing he would follow her if she walked anywhere, Jenny had climbed instead. She’d desperately needed a break from the accounts that Henry had brought her, which would keep her busy for at least a day. However, half an hour had gone by, and her backside was beginning to ache.
“Yes, please do,” she said.
He raised his hands up to hers, and she failed to see how that would help her. Was he going to catch her?
Half sliding, half jumping, Jenny ended up plastered against Ned whose arms closed around her instantly like a vice. Pushing against his narrow chest with both hands, she dared not look into his face lest he take the opportunity to kiss her. That prospect sent a rush of revulsion coursing through her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, staring down to where their bodies touched and hoping her gratitude was all he wanted, though in truth, she felt none at all. She simply wanted him to leave her alone.
Instead, he held on.
“Jenny, I should very much like to speak privately with you about a matter of grave importance to us both.”
Christ! He was a determined soul, for certain. She struggled another moment. He was also stronger than he looked!
“I will discuss nothing,” she assured him, still not raising her face, “not while you have me imprisoned and detained.”
She was about to stamp on his booted foot when he released her. She tried to step back but came up against the tree trunk. If it were Simon keeping her between his body and a tree, she would have had no problem with it. In fact, she would not have demanded to be released in the first place.
That unexpected wayward thought brought the familiar heat to her cheeks.
“Dear Cousin, I consider your blush a pretty marker of your female mind, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about. True, I may have seen your ankle while you were in that tree, but I hope to see far more of you in the future.”
Not if she had anything to say about it. Luckily, she had a lot to say about it!
“The way you held me was not very gentlemanly,” she admonished him. Perhaps if she became more disagreeable, he would turn his attentions elsewhere. Maybe toward Maggie, though she could hardly wish him on her sister. “I do not wish to have a discussion or think on matters of grave importance. I have work to do. Henry brought the apothecary’s ledgers yesterday evening.”
She tried to push past him, but Ned held his ground, forcing her to stand still and stay put.
“That’s partly why I am sure you will rejoice at what I have to say. As soon as we agree, you won’t need to ever look at numbers again, unless they’re our household accounts.”
She swallowed. “What do you mean ‘our’ accounts?”
Of course she knew what he meant, and she also knew that disagreeability was not the way to navigate these murky waters. Neither by her nature, nor by her common sense. If humiliated, Ned could certainly make life uncomfortable for her sisters when they got to London. The ton would be sniffing the air like dogs at a hunt as soon as any of the tarnished Blackwoods returned for a Season.
Perhaps Ned might be made to depart while remaining on cordial terms.
“Our marital accounts,” Ned said, a small smile crossing his lips. “In our home in Falkirk. Guinevere, I am asking for your hand.” He took that opportunity to grasp hold of her right one in both of his.
Instantly, she tried to pull it free, but he held firm, his hold as strong as any trapper’s snare.
“Since you have no father,” he continued, “I cannot ask him. I can speak with your mother, if you insist, but I am not sure her permission is needed, nor is her opinion on the matter relevant.”
What an ass! Sighing, Jenny closed her eyes and looked to the sky. Too late for prayer, she feared. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, he was still standing there and still holding her hand captive. What could she do?
“You know I have no dowry.”
“None at all?” Ned questioned, his ardor slightly cooled. At least she hoped so.
“Absolutely none. Not a cent.” She nearly smiled.
He hesitated, then to her amazement, he said, “I didn’t think you did though I had hoped for some small pittance. That is quite all right.”
Her mouth opened slightly. Perhaps Ned wasn’t quite as mercenary and boorish as she had thought. After all, if he wanted her despite her penniless state, then he must truly have affection for her. More’s the pity that she could not return his regard.
Then he added, “I imagine you’ve made a pretty penny with your bookkeeping, not to mention what the earl paid you. As your new benefactor, Lord Lindsey will probably give you something more for a dowry, too. Whatever you have, it will be enough to bring to our marriage and turn over to me when I am your husband, Lord Darrow.”
A shock of anger raced up Jenny’s spine resulting in a torrent of words that she couldn’t have stopped even if she’d wanted to.
“I have made that money, every pretty penny as you say, for my family. What’s more, we live on that money. The food you’ve been eating has been paid for with that money. Our servants are paid with that money. The physician has been paid, as will the veterinarian, with that money. I am not saving it in a hope chest like a moon-eyed girl.”
Finally, while he stood there surprised by her vehemence, she was able to yank her hand free.
“And if I were, I certainly wouldn’t hope for a man like you to be my husband. You shall have to find another way to become a baron. You won’t be stealing my father’s title through me! By the way, my name is Genevieve!”
With that, she pushed past him and ran into the house, not stopping until she was upstairs safe in her room.
Almost immediately all sorts of commotion occurred, followed predictably by Ned’s loud voice and then the shrieking of Maisie and Eleanor. After banging noises in the room next door, no doubt as Ned’s sister—or more likely, the Blackwood maid—packed Maisie’s things, there was then more thumping as someone dragged the trunk down the stairs. Though Jenny didn’t hear the front door open, she couldn’t miss it being slammed shut.
A few moments later, Maggie and Eleanor raced into the room.
“What did you say to dear Cousin Neddy?” Maggie’s saucy tone was laced with delight as she crossed her arms and leaned against the oak wardrobe.
Eleanor was crying openly, dramatically, as only a fourteen-year-old could do and sunk onto the end of the bed as if melting.
Jenny didn’t lift her head off the pillow. Lighter footsteps heralded her mother who sat on the bed beside her in the crowded room.
“The Darrows have left,” Anne said without a hint of sarcasm, though she had to know that everyone in the house, including Cook and even the stable boy had heard their departure. “Ned seemed rather infuriated by you, from what I could tell.”
Jenny wanted to apologize to all of them for the uncomfortable scene that had occurred because of her. Yet she could not. She had always done her best for each member of her family, an
d she was sorry for Eleanor losing her friend. She was sorry for any distress the abrupt and ugly departure had caused her mother, but she would not say she was sorry that Ned had departed.
“He asked me to marry him,” she began. She paused as Maggie barked out a laugh, Eleanor gasped, and her mother merely nodded.
“I feared he might,” Jenny admitted, “and I was trying to stay away from him so he could not speak the words. However, he cornered me like an animal. He was rude and insufferable.”
Anne patted her hand, and Eleanor dried her tears on her skirt.
“It didn’t sound as though you tried very hard to let him down gently,” Maggie said, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
“No,” Jenny told them all. “In the end, I lost my temper, and it was far easier than I thought to tell him no. He only wanted to trade up from his Scottish ‘sir’ to Father’s baronetcy anyway and style himself Lord Darrow.”
“That makes our dinner engagement much easier to attend, then,” Anne said. “We can all fit in one carriage.”
Jenny sat up at last. “What engagement, Mummy?”
“While you were in the garden giving Ned the glove, as my mother would say, I received this from Belton Manor.” She pulled a piece of crisp cream-colored paper from her waistband.
“Tomorrow night, we are to dine with the earl.”
Eleanor perked up tremendously. “How exciting! I am going to pick out my dress now in case it needs mending.” With that, and apparently quite over the loss of Maisie, she dashed from the room.
Maggie raised a beautifully sculpted eyebrow. “The four of us are dining with Lord Despair?”
Her mother didn’t correct her middle daughter. “The invitation was for the six of us, and thus there would have been two bachelors to two maidens,” she nodded at Jenny and Maggie in turn. “Then the two younger girls and me, as dowager. It would have been quite a gay party.”
“Dowager?” Jenny muttered, wrinkling her nose at her mother’s use of the word.
“Well, I am one,” Anne said, looking completely unaffected by her status.
“You’re a young widow,” Maggie said. “A dowager must be sixty at least, with hair on her chin.”
Anne laughed. “In any case, now there are two maidens to one bachelor. That will be a strange dinner party indeed.”
“Should we tell him?” Maggie wondered.
Jenny considered. “I don’t think Lord Lindsey will be able to produce another bachelor out of thin air. He said his friends do not live close by.” She frowned. “Do you think we should cancel?”
“Absolutely not,” her mother said. “Eleanor will thoroughly enjoy this distraction, and I’m sure you two can share the attentions of his lordship.” Again, she nodded at each of her daughters before rising to her feet.
“I should let him know of the change in order for his staff to alter the seating arrangements. I’ll write a return missive at once. Maggie can take it with her when she goes.”
Maggie sat down in the space her mother had vacated.
“I don’t see the earl usually,” she said quietly, perhaps anxiously.
Anne patted her daughter’s hand. “You will give my note to that Mr. Binkley fellow, not to the earl.”
After she left, the two oldest Blackwood sisters stared at one another. It was one thing tutoring Lady Devere’s children or even poring over ledgers in the library. It was another thing to have their entire family seated in the dining room as guests of the earl.
“You’re practically courting,” her sister said, looking bemused.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” But Jenny’s heart was thumping. Talking with Simon Devere was easy, and she held him in such high-esteem for the way he was pulling himself out of the darkness of his own mental predicament.
“Why am I being ridiculous? The earl is quite handsome, if you like tall, dark-haired men.” Maggie grinned. “Certainly, more than your fickle viscount with his thin lips and even thinner hair.”
Jenny couldn’t help chuckling. “It’s true I never thought much about Lord Alder’s looks beyond the fact that he didn’t repulse me. Though I’m certain he had perfectly suitable lips and thick brown hair. In fact, I am sure many considered him handsome.”
Then she shrugged. “I simply didn’t know how differently I would feel when I truly admire a man’s appearance and, of course, his character.”
“And you do? With Lord Des … Devere, I mean?”
“He is rather lovely,” Jenny admitted, then felt the dreaded heat on her cheeks. She put a cooling palm up to each one.
All at once, Maggie squealed. “Has he kissed you?”
“Ssh,” Jenny admonished her. “Goodness, why on earth would you ask me that?”
Maggie laughed with delight. “Why would you stall and ask me why I’m asking you unless I have guessed correctly? Tell me everything.” She wriggled on the bed, practically clapping her hands.
“What was it like? Has he kissed you more than once? Has he touched you anywhere else on your person?”
“Enough!” Jenny tried to sound formidable yet failed. Instead, she couldn’t help smiling. Recalling when Simon’s lips touched hers, she did feel like the moon-eyed girl she’d mentioned to Ned.
“I have had the honor of his kiss, yes. Merely gratitude for my helping him to feel more at ease.”
“Gratitude?” Maggie said, sounding horrified, then she gave an unladylike snort of laughter. “You ninny! Men don’t kiss out of gratitude. They kiss because they admire you. They kiss because they want to bed you.”
“What!” She shot Maggie a concerned look. “How would you know? Exactly how many times have you been kissed?”
Maggie gave a small smile, causing her heart-shaped face to take on a catlike expression.
“I may have enjoyed une petite bise during my brief time in London.”
Jenny’s mouth hung open. “I had no idea. Are you saying, from your vast experience then, that some man, a member of the bon ton, I’m assuming, wanted to bed you?”
Maggie blushed in a way that Jenny had never before seen on the cheeks of her usually self-possessed sister. How interesting!
Maggie picked unseen lint off her sleeve. “Ultimately, it was unimportant since my Season was not long enough for anything serious to develop.”
“I see.” Jenny frowned, hoping that her sister had not had a perfect union yanked out of her grasp.
Maggie stood. “Well, you successfully managed to turn the focus from your own kissing to mine, so let’s get on with the day, shall we? You’ve got ledgers, no doubt, and I have to prepare for tutoring.”
She paused in the doorway. “If I see Lord Despair, shall I give him a message from you regarding how he honored you with his gratitude?”
Maggie disappeared just in time to avoid the pillow that Jenny threw at her sister’s head.
*
The Blackwood family had been in high excitement for the past twenty-four hours until it was time to depart for Belton Manor. Luckily, Jenny had more than one good gown from her Season and a half, and no one in the country would know if her dress was outdated or had been worn more than once. Maggie, too, had gowns from her Season, including a couple as yet unworn. They’d been packed away, a sad reminder of what had befallen their family. Now, however, they were brought out for a joyous dinner with the earl.
At last, all the Blackwood women were suitably attired to attend the Earl of Lindsey and not disgrace themselves. Even Eleanor, who had not grown much in a year, still could fit into her favorite satin party gown.
Henry drove them in order for them not to appear as country bumpkins without servants, but they’d had to get their traveling carriage out of storage and harness both Lucy and the Cleveland Bay, a very mismatched team.
“We should have walked, or I should have driven,” Jenny complained when the carriage lurched as the old Bay pulled faster than Lucy, causing Maggie to slip forward off her seat and stand on her sister’s foot for the umpteenth time in the ve
ry short journey. Henry was not the most skilled driver. However, when one of Lord Lindsey’s footmen greeted them as soon as they stopped in front of the manor, Jenny was glad not to be perched atop the dickey with windblown hair.
Moreover, quite unexpectedly, Simon appeared at the top of the stone steps as if he’d been waiting for them, perhaps looking out the window. That thought brought a smile to her lips, which grew even broader when he threw decorum to the wind and briskly descended the stairs.
Beginning with a respectful bow to their mother, he greeted each of the sisters in turn, offering a wink to Jenny that she hoped the others did not see. When he grasped hold of Maggie’s hand, bringing it to his lips, he became the dapper earl again, formal and polite, as if he hadn’t once told Jenny about her sister waggling her bustle.
Then he reached Eleanor.
“How is your horse, Miss Eleanor?”
“Fine, my lord. Thanks to you. It is good to see you in a shirt.”
The older three ladies gasped until, after a stunned pause, Simon laughed outright.
“I shall endeavor to keep it on through the entire evening.”
Then he took Lady Lucien Blackwood’s arm through his and led the small group up the steps.
Before long, they were seated at dinner. Since they were such a small party, there was no lingering for drinks and trifling conversation in the anteroom. They took their assigned chairs at one end of the long table with Simon at the head, the baroness to his right, and Eleanor to her right. Jenny and Maggie sat opposite, on Simon’s left.
Jenny’s third time in the dining room was definitely the most pleasant, she thought. Finally, it was alive with flickering, long tapered candles, delicious aromas, and happy people.
“Most unfortunate about the hasty departure of your visitors.” Simon broached the subject of Ned and Maisie’s leaving as their wine was being poured. “They must have had pressing business.”
Beastly Lords Collection Page 17
