He glanced down at Julia. She was doing her best to keep up with the adult pace, hurrying along, even breaking into a trot every now and then. Worried she must be tiring, he wordlessly picked her up and set her on his shoulders, nearly knocking his hat off in the process. Lady Radbourne shot a doubtful look his way. Perhaps it wasn’t very ladylike to let his daughter perch up on his shoulders, her skirts rucked to her knees, but Julia would have time enough to worry about appearances when she was older.
“I understand your sister lives with you,” he said, mostly to head off criticism of his child-rearing choices.
“Yes, Cassandra is nineteen. We had two brothers and a sister, but they’re gone now.”
Freddie was the same age as Cassandra Douglass. Might the pair take an interest in each other? Probably not, unless Miss Douglass bore a marked resemblance to a homing pigeon, but it would do no harm to widen Freddie’s circle of acquaintances. “It’s a shame I’ve no female relative with me to play hostess, so I might invite you ladies to dinner.”
“You forget, I’m in mourning.”
Her forbidding tone irked him. He was trying to be civil, and meeting with nothing but hauteur. “I only said it was a shame. It’s not as if I was importuning you to come.”
One corner of her mouth twitched in irritation.
They drew within sight of the dower house, a neat two-story structure of red brick. The front door stood wide open. “Look at that,” Lady Radbourne said, stopping in her tracks. “Leaving the door open in this cold! It’s not like Cassie to be so careless.”
“I’m surprised no one inside felt a draft in this weather.”
“It’s our manservant’s afternoon off, and our cook wished to take a pot of stew to her father in West Heslerton. But my sister—” The countess’s delicate features drained of color. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?”
She swallowed. “Cassandra suffers from a lung ailment. You don’t think—?”
Miss Douglass’s health must be delicate indeed, to judge from the way the countess had gone paper-white. “I’ll check inside.” He swung Julia off his shoulders and set her back on her feet. “Stay with Lady Radbourne.”
He hurried toward the front door. Lord, he hoped he wasn’t about to walk in on a tragedy. But while a lung attack might explain why Miss Douglass hadn’t felt the draft or closed the door, why would she open it in the first place? He covered the last few yards at a jog.
Win was about to pass through the open doorway when a patch of splintered wood on the jamb caught his eye. He stopped and ran a hand over the doorframe.
“What is it?” Lady Radbourne called.
He glanced over his shoulder. To his surprise, Julia was holding the countess’s hand. “This door wasn’t left ajar by accident. It’s been kicked in.”
“What?” Lady Radbourne drew closer, Julia with her. “You’re sure?”
He stepped back to give her a better look. “See for yourself. The latch on the door is still engaged, while the wood around the strike plate is in splinters. Someone forced this door open, and violently enough to damage the jamb.”
The countess’s green eyes went wide. “But I left my sister alone—”
Which meant not only might the intruder have done her some harm, but he could still be in the house. “Wait here with my daughter while I have a look.”
Lady Radbourne nodded. She’d gone as mute as Julia.
* * *
Lina stood in the cold with the colonel’s little girl, growing more frightened by the minute. Please, God, let Cassie be safe and well.
Why would anyone break into the dower house, unless perhaps to get to Cassandra? A thief would find far richer pickings at the abbey, a scarce ten-minute walk to the north. Even Lina’s most treasured possessions—her grandmother’s tea service, her miniature of Edward—held little more than sentimental value.
The little girl beside her must have sensed her apprehension, for she looked up with a worried expression. “Will Papa be all right?”
Lina forced a reassuring smile. However frightened she might be, she didn’t want to alarm the colonel’s daughter. “Oh, yes, he’ll be back in a moment. Your father is most gentlemanly and brave.” He was brave, whatever else his faults might be. He hadn’t even hesitated before charging into the house. Though Lina’s greatest fear was for her sister, it was entirely possible the colonel might encounter a footpad or worse.
A familiar cry came from behind her. “Lina!”
She spun around, her heart giving an eager bound. Cassie. Oh, thank heavens.
Her sister came hurrying across the frozen ground toward them, a gray cloak over her lavender walking dress. “What are you doing out here in the cold? And who is—”
“I met Colonel Vaughan, and this is his daughter, Julia,” Lina answered with a look that cautioned Let’s not frighten the little girl. “Miss Vaughan, this is my sister, Miss Douglass.” As the child curtsied, Lina explained as lightly as she could manage, “We discovered the front door standing open. The colonel suspects it was kicked in. He’s going through the house now to make sure we haven’t been robbed.”
“Robbed...!”
“Yes. Though if a thief really did break in, I expect he went away excessively disappointed.”
Cassie peered around her at the damaged door. “I don’t own anything worth stealing, except perhaps my garnet cross. But I’m glad I didn’t miss all the excitement.”
Excitement? If this was Cassie’s idea of a thrilling adventure, Lina much preferred boredom. “I was worried you were still inside.”
“No, the house was so quiet, I went to the vicarage to borrow a book from Miss Wilkins.” From beneath her cloak, Cassie produced a copy of The Spectre of Lanmere Abbey. “It’s full of secret marriages and locked rooms, and a woman with a cancer on her face.”
Lina slanted an uneasy glance at Miss Vaughan. “Really, Cassie, can’t you find something more improving to read?”
“But it’s full of horrors! Don’t you adore being frightened?”
“Not especially.” Right now, for instance—Lina didn’t even like Colonel Vaughan, yet she would have given nearly anything to have him re-emerge, safe and sound. Instead she was looking after his young daughter, trying not to think about him being stabbed on the upstairs landing or perhaps brained with a poker. What was taking him so long?
She was just about to lean over the threshold and call his name to make sure he was still with the living when, to her relief, the door bumped back open and his startlingly handsome face looked out at her. “It’s safe to come in.” He held out a hand to his little girl, who left Lina’s side to melt against him. “I’ve gone through every room, and there’s no one here.”
“Thank goodness. It turns out my sister wasn’t home after all, though she returned while you were inside, as you can see. Cassandra, may I present Colonel Vaughan?”
The colonel’s gaze skipped past Lina to fix on Cassie, a spark of admiration kindling in his gray eyes. He bowed and said with real warmth, “A great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Douglass.”
A little of the pleasure Lina had felt at his re-emergence ebbed away. Well, what had she expected? She must look dowdy and severe in her widow’s weeds, while her sister was only in half-mourning now. Cassie’s gray cloak and lavender gown complemented her fair coloring, and she was young and pretty and outgoing.
And clearly the admiration was mutual, for as Cassie’s eyes swept over Colonel Vaughan’s tall frame, she brightened and a becoming flush rose to her cheeks.
The colonel stepped to one side to allow them entrance. “I can’t say whether anything was taken, ladies, but the house appears to be in order.”
In the modest entrance hall, Lina shed her bonnet and cloak. “I’ll check upstairs and see if anything is missing.”
> Cassie nodded and added her cloak to the pegs by the door. “I’ll look downstairs.”
Lina hurried up to her room. She was feeling weak-kneed, partly from tension and partly because she hadn’t eaten anything to speak of since dinner the night before. She wished she knew why people called this dreadful queasiness morning sickness. The wretched feeling lasted all day.
The colonel was right. Nothing looked out of place. Edgar’s miniature stood undisturbed beside her bed, and when she checked her jewelry box, it still held her tiny store of treasures—her oval brooch, her mother’s gold cross, the modest strand of pearls Edward had given her as a wedding present. She checked Cassie’s room, too, where her sister’s even smaller store of jewelry appeared likewise untouched.
She returned to the top of the stairs. “Nothing’s missing up here,” she called down.
Cassie appeared at the foot of the staircase, the colonel and his little girl just behind her. “The silver and Grandmama’s tea service are just as they should be.”
Relieved, Lina started down the stairs. “Whoever forced open the door must have simply wished to come in out of the cold for a few min—” She broke off as a wave of dizziness hit her. She had to clutch the banister to keep her balance.
The next thing she knew, Cassie was at her side on the stairs while the colonel lingered two steps below them, looking poised to catch Lina if she fell.
Cassie supported her with a hand at her elbow. “Goodness, Lina, you’ve gone positively green!”
Lina wished Colonel Vaughan weren’t present to witness her embarrassing spell of the vapors. “How silly of me.” She took another cautious step lower, but her dratted legs were trembling so badly her knees buckled—
Colonel Vaughan swept her up in his arms.
She blushed hotly. “No, don’t—”
He ignored her objection. Oh, no. They’d met only half an hour before, and he was carrying her bodily down the stairs. Yet along with her dreadful mortification came a keen awareness of the colonel’s strong arms holding her, of the clean scent of his shaving soap, and the hard muscles beneath his coat. During their marriage, Edward had picked her up more than once, laughing as he playfully carried her to bed, his stride a trifle unsteady under her weight. The colonel wasn’t laughing or playful, but he certainly wasn’t staggering, either.
And to add to her awful embarrassment, whether because she was afraid of falling or because she really had no better way to dispose herself, she found herself clinging to him with her arms around his neck, for all the world as if he were a bridegroom and she were a new bride being carried over the threshold. “I’m sorry to be such a bother,” she said, since it seemed somehow more improper not to speak. “I feel perfectly ridiculous.”
“Nonsense.”
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she expected him to set her down—but, no, he let Cassie lead them to the drawing room, his little daughter trailing after them. In spite of herself, for one brief, traitorous second Lina closed her eyes and inhaled, reveling in the clean masculine scent of him and the sensation of being in a man’s arms again.
Once in the drawing room, the colonel deposited her carefully on the sofa, then stepped back to study her with a critical frown. “Shall I send for a doctor?”
“No, please don’t.” She hated looking so helpless around a strange man. Her cheeks must be crimson. “I’m perfectly fine, really. I simply missed my breakfast this morning.”
“She hasn’t been feeling quite the thing,” Cassie said.
Still regarding Lina, he gave a sympathetic nod. “A little tea and toast might not go amiss. And if you’ll permit a word of advice, you might try eating a biscuit or two in the morning before you rise from bed. An empty stomach only makes the morning sickness worse.”
Could this day grow any more embarrassing? He was talking about her condition as plainly if they were discussing the weather. And why should a gentleman presume to know more about pregnancy than she did?
Then she remembered he was a widower with a little girl. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He glanced from her to Cassie. “Well, it appears the excitement is over. I’ll send over a workman from the abbey to see to your front door, though I’m afraid he may be underfoot for most of the afternoon. He’ll need to remove the trim around the casing before he can replace the jamb, and then chisel a mortise for the latch. Is there anything I can do for you ladies before I go?”
First he was an expert on pregnancy, and now on carpentry? Edward wouldn’t have had the first idea how to repair a door. But then, Edward had been born heir to an earldom, while Colonel Vaughan had come to Belryth Abbey purely through a twist of fate. For all she knew, his people wielded hammers on a daily basis. “No, thank you. We appreciate your assistance.”
“Think nothing of it.” Smiling—did he have to have such a disarming smile when she was trying to recover some sense of decorum?—he sketched a bow. “I’ll bid you a good afternoon, then, ladies. Julia and I can see ourselves out.”
Lina closed her eyes on a wave of mortification as his footsteps receded.
He’d no sooner gone that Cassie plunked herself down on the chair across from Lina. “Goodness! I didn’t expect him to be so handsome. Did you?”
Lina reluctantly opened her eyes. “Who?” she said, though she knew very well whom Cassie meant. She’d have to be both feather-brained and blind not to.
“Colonel Vaughan, of course. Why didn’t Martha warn us he had such a naughty twinkle in his eyes? And those dimples!” Cassie sighed and reached for her darning. “I wonder if he’s courting anyone back in Hampshire.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“I suppose he must be. A widower with a little girl? I’d think he’d be eager to remarry.”
Lina resisted the urge to speculate. It certainly didn’t matter to her whether he was courting someone or not. She was in mourning. And she was expecting another man’s baby—a baby that might well deny the colonel the Radbourne title and estate. Even if he was in the market for a new wife, she certainly wasn’t in the running, nor did she wish to be. Besides, he was leaving soon.
Cassie drew her needle through the sock she was darning. “His daughter has lovely manners, don’t you think?”
“If you call browbeaten silence lovely. I’m sure the poor child was afraid to speak. He’s terribly stern with her. When I came upon them, he was railing at her, using the most dreadful language.” Which wasn’t entirely true. The colonel hadn’t been swearing.
Yet Lina didn’t take back the accusation. Why was she so determined to find fault with the man, especially when he’d searched the dower house for her and even saved her from a disastrous tumble down the stairs?
Because...because he was here to take Edward’s place. If she didn’t produce a boy, Colonel Vaughan would return in the autumn as the new Lord Radbourne, master of Belryth Abbey. Though he couldn’t evict her—her marriage contract guaranteed her the use of the dower house rent-free unless she remarried—he could certainly make her life miserable. She and Cassie might face years of slights and snubs, of unconvivial meetings and invitations that never came, of jointure payments rendered grudgingly and past due.
Yes, she had more than sufficient reason to mistrust him. Her disapproval had nothing to do with pride or wounded vanity. It was completely unrelated to the way his glinting gray eyes had skipped past her to linger appreciatively on Cassie.
She couldn’t possibly be that vain.
* * *
Win made his way back to the abbey, Julia once again riding on his shoulders.
Now that there were no strangers present, she was eager to talk. “Papa, why did you tell that lady you were Colonel Vaughan?”
“Because I am a colonel—a lieutenant-colonel—or I was until I sold out to marry your Mama. I went into the army at sixt
een as a lieutenant, and fought in Spain and Portugal and finally France, and the army made me a captain, then a major and finally a lieutenant-colonel.”
“Because you were a good soldier?”
“Well, because I was a good soldier and because the previous captains, majors and lieutenant-colonels had a habit of dying.”
“I’m glad you didn’t die.”
“So am I.”
He would stay a week and then they would set out again for Hampshire. That would allow Julia time to explore the abbey before he had to confine her again to the cramped carriage. Besides, he and Freddie might as well see more of their ancestral seat, given that they’d traveled so far.
And he’d have to remember to ask Freddie about the dower house door. Though Win was confident his brother had had nothing to do with the broken lock—for all his eccentricity, Freddie was scrupulously respectful of others’ property—perhaps he might have seen someone or something suspicious while out walking that morning.
Julia leaned down enough to loop her arms about Win’s neck, pushing his hat askew. “That house smelled funny.”
“I agree, though I’m glad you kept your opinion to yourself. Too much damp.”
“But the lady was pretty.”
“Which lady, the one with dark hair or her sister with the light hair?”
“Both.”
“Yes.” Win nodded thoughtfully. “I thought she was pretty too.”
Chapter Four
And he said, Lord God, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it? And He said unto him, take me an heifer of three years old, and a she goat of three years old, and a ram of three years old, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon.
—Genesis 15:8-9
Once the excitement of the Colonel’s visit wore off, Cassie turned her attention to more mundane matters. “You gave me quite a scare, swooning on the stairs.”
“I’m sure it was only that I skipped breakfast. I have no appetite at all, though I suppose I ought to make the effort, if only for the baby’s sake.”
An Heir of Uncertainty Page 4
