Mr. Pratt preened as if he were surrounded by a score of admirers. “I had no idea you found them so interesting.”
“Not so much interesting as amazing.”
Ellen stared at Lorenzo in astonishment. Was he insulting Mr. Pratt or lauding him? No hint of the truth was visible on his face.
Corey’s laugh drew her eyes to him. “Shame on you, Lorenzo!” he said with another chuckle. “You should know better than to have a battle of wits with a witless man. The victory is too easily won.”
She fought not to laugh.
When Mr. Pratt rose, she was able to control her amusement behind a clichéd farewell. She lost her yearning to laugh when he reminded her that she would be his guest at the assembly at the Pratt’s country house.
A silent sigh was her only response as Marian escorted him down the stairs, his boot heels battering each riser. Lorenzo was correct. Mr. Pratt was amazing in his arrogance.
“I should take my leave as well,” Lorenzo said, setting himself on his feet. “I do not wish to overstrain you.”
“I have enjoyed your call. I know Marian did as well. She has been saying she wished you would call more often.”
He smiled. “Do you think she would be satisfied if I invited you and Marian and Reggie to an outing at Wolfe Abbey on the morrow?” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Do you think you might wish to join us?”
Corey shook his head as he went to stand next to his cousin. “I know tradition states only a week of mourning for cousins, Lorenzo, but I thought you might wear ashes a while longer than this.”
“I would be delighted,” Ellen replied.
“Et tú, Edie?”
Unable to hear Corey’s sarcasm, Lorenzo nodded. “Then I shall look forward to tomorrow.” He bowed over her hand before going out into the hall.
Marian rushed into the room. She kissed Ellen on the cheek. “Two conquests with a single smile. My dear, I knew someone would win your heart here.”
“I think you may be right.” Ellen looked around the room, but save for her and Marian, it was empty. She was astonished Corey had left without trying to have the final word. She wondered what new prank he was devising to spring on them next in his joint effort with Marian to find her a husband. She was sure it would be something beyond anything she could imagine.
Nine
A nicer day could not have been wished for, and Ellen left her dreary spirits at Herrold Hall. Literally, she hoped, for she would enjoy a chance to think without Corey meddling constantly.
She took a deep breath as they paused in front of Wolfe Abbey. The air was flavored with salt. She wished they could ride along the shore, but Marian had insisted on a more traditional journey across the hills to the lake beyond the village.
Marian smiled as she dismounted. “Wait here with the horses. I wish to deliver this basket to the kitchen, so it might be ready for us when we return.”
“We could take the basket with us and eat in the hills.”
“Nonsense. That would be most uncivilized.”
“We ate on the sand earlier in the week.”
“That was a gathering. This is just a ride with a few friends.”
Ellen could not fathom what difference that made, but she had learned better than to start a brangle when Marian had that stubborn gleam in her eyes. She slid off the horse as Marian went to the house. Looping the horses’ reins over a tree, she gathered the heavy bulk of her forest green riding skirt and walked along the path toward where she could look down on the pond in the heart of the garden.
Someone leaped out of the shrubs. She pulled back with a frightened cry. When she heard the raspy laugh over her thumping heart, she frowned. “Fenton!”
“Remember ye. Ye be Miss Dunbar.”
“Yes.”
He eyed her up and down. “Don’t know why he chose ye.”
“Who?”
“Lord Wulfric.”
“I am afraid I do not understand what you mean.”
“Lord Wulfric. Chose ye, he did.”
“You must be confused.” She forced a smile. The old man was clearly dicked in the nob, so she must be gentle with him. Her last conversation with him had been as puzzling as this one. “I have only met Lorenzo a few—”
“Not him.” Fenton spat on the ground. “Lord Wulfric!”
“But Lorenzo Wolfe is—”
“Not yet he ain’t. Not while his lordship is still about.” Standing straighter so his nose was but an inch from hers, he demanded, “Ye know it, too, don’t ye?”
She backed away. “I think you are confused.”
“Scared ye of old Fenton, they have, but I know what ye know. His lordship still walks the halls of Wolfe Abbey.”
“How—?” She gulped, not wanting to reveal the truth. “Why do you say that?”
“Seen him, I have.”
“You have? When?”
Fenton chuckled, the sound as strident as an unoiled hinge. “Not as many times as ye have seen him, I guess. Likes the pretty ones, he does.”
Ellen turned on her heel and walked away. She had no reply for the old man that was not a lie, and she did not want to resort to dishonesty.
Had Fenton truly seen Corey, or was he just a superstitious old widgeon? She must not allow him to guess how close to the truth his ravings were. Yet, if he had seen Corey, he might speak to others as he had to her. She must warn Corey.
She was tempted to laugh. What could anyone do to a ghost?
“There you are!” Marian wore a reproving frown as she strode toward Ellen. “We had wondered where you might be.”
Ellen did not ask who “we” were. Marian’s tone told her. Lorenzo must have come out of the Abbey with Marian. All in all, this day was going ingloriously. Mayhap she would be wise to return to Herrold Hall and hide in her room beneath her covers. No, that would be futile. Then Corey would appear to taunt her for being a coward.
She was not afraid of Marian’s attempts to find her a husband. She simply needed a chance to be alone to gather her thoughts together. If Marian—and Corey—arranged events to unfold as they wished, she knew it would not be soon.
Lorenzo wore a strained smile as Ellen approached. She understood why when a chorus of yaps, yips, and howls ricocheted along the road. Suddenly, past the top stones of the seawall, a pack of brown and white dogs exploded into sight. Lord Herrold was chasing them, his face as red as his riding coat. His open mouth suggested he was shouting, but the sound was swallowed by the dogs’ keening.
Ellen gasped when Lorenzo grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her behind the horses before the dogs could swarm over them. Marian bravely stood her ground. The dogs swirled around her in a muddy river, then raced, barking, over and through the fence past the stables. Lord Herrold followed in close pursuit, paying no attention to the pieces of grass sticking out of his hat and the briars clinging to his breeches.
“Is he breeding persistence into his pups?” Lorenzo asked.
“You would have to ask him.” Marian patted her horse on the neck. “I have to own that I do not listen closely when he babbles on and on about his beasts.”
“Where is he going?” Ellen asked.
Marian shrugged. “Who can guess?”
Ellen laughed as Marian motioned for Lorenzo to throw her up into the saddle so she could give chase to her husband and his dogs. When Lorenzo turned to help Ellen, she said, “You have much patience with eccentric people.”
“A skill I needed when I came to Wolfe Abbey to live.” He helped her mount. As she settled in the saddle, he handed her the reins. “If I could learn to deal with the Wolfes, I suspect I can be successful with anyone.”
“You miss your cousin deeply.” She put her hand on his shoulder.
“Both of them. Vanessa, Corey, and I grew up together. Now she is far from here, and he is gone. Only I remain.” He climbed into his saddle with ease. “Odd, but Corey was such a part of the Abbey that, while there is an emptiness, it seems as if a part of him is
still about.”
The longing to speak the truth burned on her lips. How it would comfort Lorenzo to know that he was right, but if she uttered the truth, Lorenzo would think she was as deranged as Fenton.
“Lorenzo!” Marian was halfway to the stables. “Do hurry! I fear we shall lose Reginald.”
“Last time, he raced his dogs to a breast-high scent,” Lorenzo said with a laugh, “the good baron got lost in his own greenwood.”
“With all that yelping, how could they be lost?” Ellen asked as they rode to meet up with Marian.
“Oh, the dogs found their way back to the Hall. Reggie didn’t.”
Ellen laughed merrily as they went in pursuit of the score of dogs and Lord Herrold. It might not be such a bad day, after all.
Sitting beneath a tree at the edge of a field, Ellen lowered her book to her lap and watched Lord Herrold as he bent over his dogs and spoke to them as earnestly as if they could comprehend every word he spoke. Beside him, Marian sat on her horse. Her impatient expression was visible even from the far side of the field.
The green shadows beneath the trees lengthened as the sun dipped toward the sea. Ellen could not recall the last time she had enjoyed such a peaceful day … and been so suffused with ennui. It was the first day since her arrival at Wolfe Abbey that she had not spoken with Corey. Odd that he should have been absent today when he had followed her on every other outing she had taken.
Lorenzo came to sit beside her. Pulling a handkerchief from a pocket, he wiped his sweating face. “My best riding pantaloons,” he said with a grimace.
“What happened?” she asked when she saw the foot-long rip in the left leg.
“I failed to remember the ha-ha at the edge of this lea. With luck, my tumble knocked some sense into my head.” He uncapped a canister and held it out. When she hesitated, he said, “’Tis only water, Ellen. I suspect Reggie will be anxious to renew his acquaintance with the bottles from the Abbey’s cellars by the time we return. As he dislikes drinking alone …”
“Thank you.” She took a deep drink to wash the dust of the lane from her lips. “I think you may be worrying needlessly. I cannot believe he will be willing to pause at the Abbey when he shall be eager to get his pack home.”
“He has left them with Fenton before.”
“Fenton?” She gasped and stared at him. “Lord Herrold trusts Fenton to watch over his precious collection of dogs?”
“’Tis a surprise, isn’t it? Fenton took a knock in the cradle many years ago. I asked Corey many times to retire him to a cottage near the shore, but he never heeded me. When Vanessa returns from the continent, she may decide to give the old man a reward for his long service to this family. I cannot decide that.” His eyes narrowed when she did not answer. “You look distressed. Has Fenton said something to bother you?”
Ellen smiled. “If you say he is harmless, Lorenzo, I am sure you are right.”
“I hope I am. He certainly shares Reggie’s love of beasts. Both men have an uncanny way with them.” Again he looked down at his buckskin pantaloons. “Much better than I do, I suspect. I should ask you to excuse me, Ellen, so I can go back to the Abbey and change.”
“Will you be joining us for our al fresco nuncheon?”
“Marian would be highly displeased if I did not, and I have found it is wise to keep Marian happy,” he said with a smile.
He was more insightful than Corey had led her to believe. “Marian does not like to have her plans countermanded.”
“And she wanted us to spend this day together.” He tugged at his ripped pantaloons. “I can tell you, Ellen, I would have much preferred talking with you than chasing Reggie’s pack across the fields.”
She laughed. “Did you gather all of them together?”
“He seems to think one is still missing, but cannot decide which one.” He pointed to where Lord Herrold was trying in vain to get his dogs to stand still. “He is uncommonly concerned that the beast will return home with an unwelcome addition to his breeding line.”
“You are a good friend to your neighbors.”
“I like a quiet life, Ellen. Sometimes it requires a great deal of effort to find it here.” He tilted her book so he could read the title on the binding. “I should have guessed you would be enjoying poetry.”
“Shakespeare’s sappy sonnets, I believe you called them.”
Resting back against a tree, he said, “Not all of them are sappy. The man has a good grasp of the use of language and twists words like a master. Mayhap I spoke out of jealousy more than anything else.”
“Jealousy?”
“Shakespeare was a master, and I am a mere dabbler.”
“You should let someone else judge that.” She put her hand on his arm. “If you would like, I offer my eyes.”
“You want to read my poetry?”
“If you wish me to.”
“I am overwhelmed.”
Hastily she said, “If you do not wish to share it, I can understand.”
“No, no!” He jumped to his feet and grinned like the lanky scarecrow he resembled. “The whole idea is as fine as a five pence. I shall gather some poems for you to read upon my return.” Grasping her hand, he pressed his lips to its back.
Ellen gasped at his unexpected fervor.
Hastily he released her hand. “Ellen, if I have done anything to offend you, I—”
“You have done nothing.” She did not look at him. As lief, she stared down at the hand she cradled in her other. How could she explain that his action brought his cousin to her mind? Lorenzo would think her completely insane if she spoke of her heart-deep longing for Corey to kiss her hand and touch her with such yearning. “I look forward to reading your poems, Lorenzo.”
The delight returned to his voice as he told her he would return after a flying trip to the Abbey. She heard him rush to his horse, then ride away at top speed. The dust from the road washed over her, but could not conceal the truth.
She was falling in love with a ghost. As absurd as it sounded, that was the truth. Would Corey laugh if she told him that she had found the husband she wanted and that that husband was him? Closing her eyes, she imagined how wondrous it would be if he could draw her into his arms then and whisper of his love for her.
“Don’t be silly.” Ellen closed her book sharply. “This is nothing but a joke to him. If …”
Hoofbeats sounded along the road. She looked past the tree. A blond man slowed his gray mount and tipped his hat to her. “Good day, miss. Can you tell me which road to take to Herrold Hall?”
She smiled. “You are upon it, sir. It is no more than a fifteen minute ride in that direction.”
Swinging down from the horse, he said, “You have chosen a lovely spot to enjoy your book, miss, and I apologize for interrupting your tranquillity.”
“It is a lovely spot, but hardly tranquil.” She glanced out to where Lord Herrold was still trying to gather his dogs about him.
“Do you, perchance, know if Lord Herrold is in residence at the Hall?”
“Yes, but if you wish to speak to him, you need look no farther than this field.”
The man, who was not much taller than Fenton, grinned. “This is a piece of good luck. Thank you, miss.” He hesitated as he was about to turn. “Do I have the honor of being in the company of Lady Herrold?”
With another smile, she shook her head. “Lady Herrold is my hostess. I am Ellen Dunbar.”
“Thomas Hudson, Miss Dunbar.” He tipped his hat to her. “Thank you.”
Ellen bent back over her book as he rode to meet Lord Herrold. She chuckled softly when the sound of barking warned that Mr. Hudson’s arrival had sent the dogs into a new flurry of excitement. She ignored the sound as she listened only to the melody of the poetry’s words swirling like a symphony through her mind.
“Ellen, what were you doing talking to him?”
In amazement, she looked up to discover Marian’s face was as gray as the sky at dawn. She had been so immersed in her bo
ok, she had not heard Marian’s steps. “Him?”
“Thomas Hudson.”
“He stopped to ask directions. He seems a pleasant gentleman.”
She sniffed her disagreement as she sat beside Ellen. “Gentleman? Not likely, Ellen. He has been disowned by both family and friends, save for Reginald. The two share a revolting obsession for their dogs.”
“I had no idea.”
“How can it be that you have spent three Seasons in London, and you are still as naïve as when you first arrived from Scotland?” Marian fanned her face with her hand and glowered at the two men in the field. “You cannot judge a man to be a gentleman simply because his manners seem polished.” Her terse laugh struck Ellen like a switch. “If that were true, then you could not have called Corey Wolfe a gentleman. He spoke his mind far too often and often chose companions who were not fit for a marquess.”
“Companions?”
Marian patted Ellen’s hand. “I do not mean to disparage a dead man’s name unjustly. His companions were not light-skirts, or not that I am privy to. As lief, he often entertained men who had served with him in France, men who were entering the Polite World for the first time. Soldiers learn few manners, I fear.”
Ellen clenched her hands on her book. This was no time to give free rein to her temper, which could flash as red hot as her hair. Marian spoke out of ignorance. If she ever had had the opportunity to meet Ellen’s stepfather, Marian would have learned that a military man was accustomed to a life of the highest decorum. Her voice was taut as she answered, “My stepfather spent many years in the military before his recent retirement, if you will recall.”
“I did not mean to insult your family.” She waved her hands about as if she were batting at gnats. “You know the type I mean, Ellen. Uncouth and without the refinement of decent manners.”
“I think it would be best, Marian,” she said, “if we discontinue this conversation. You have been a good friend to me, and I do not wish to end that friendship over this matter which hurts me deeply.”
“Over what matter?”
“You are speaking thoughtlessly about two men I love with all my heart.”
A Phantom Affair Page 12
