“Very well.” Andrew nodded. He eyed the small cat whose kitten days were behind it and accepted he was outnumbered. “One night. And then we’ll discuss Carrot’s future.”
His secretary cleared his throat behind him. “I must get these to the post box in time for the mail coach, Your Grace.”
“Miss Harrismith, we shall talk further.” Andrew nodded to the governess, smiled at his children, and closed the window.
Pen in hand he stared at the papers before him, but instead, he saw the smile curling the corners of Miss Harrismith’s mouth. No, she was nothing like the old governess, Miss Tibb. Tabby he called her, behind her back. She not only lacked a sense of humor, she was rather fond of hitting him with a ruler and he’d been relieved when she was replaced with his tutor.
After Bishop hurried away with the signed and sealed documents, Andrew decided an investigation was required and made his way to the stables. He saddled Cicero and rode along the bridle path to the river.
When he reached the spot where the shot was fired, he dismounted and approached the tree that had been struck by the ball. He dipped a hand into his pocket, pulled out his pocket knife, and dug into the soft bark. The ball fell into his hand. Andrew turned it over in his palm. Clovis had been right. No guns had been used from the Castlebridge gun room. This ball was not one from here.
Grim-faced, he tucked the ball into his pocket with his knife and whistled to Cicero who had wandered over to a tender patch of grass. The stallion raised his head and trotted back to him. Andrew leapt into the saddle. This could not be delayed. He must go to London. If he left at first light, he would make it back by dusk, and meanwhile, Raymond could be relied on to entertain Greta. Although that made him decidedly uneasy. Was this a random attack by someone local? Or was it linked to the London murder? He wouldn’t rest until he knew what he was dealing with.
When he returned to the house, he made his way to the schoolroom where Miss Harrismith arranged a basket for the cat while his daughter offered advice. His son was on the floor playing with Carrot.
“We shall bring the basket to the nursery at night,” Barbara explained.
“Wasn’t the kitten to remain in the schoolroom?” He found himself unable to put up much of an objection after witnessing the endearing scene.
Barbara frowned at him. “Poor Carrot would be all alone, Father.”
“Of course. We cannot have that,” he said mildly, a smile twitching his lips.
Miss Harrismith finished arranging the cat’s bed and rose. “Is there something else, Your Grace?”
“Yes, I’d like a word.” He strolled over to the pianoforte against the far wall, out of earshot of the children. Miss Harrismith followed.
His gaze took her in. The dove-colored cambric muslin dress she wore suited her, the brooch at her breast the only piece of jewelry, except for a watch hanging on a fine gold chain. He was struck again by her poise. He’d been surrounded by ladies dressed in the first stare of fashion all his life. Miss Harrismith’s outfit was far simpler, and yet somehow, in his opinion she would not be out of place among them.
“I’d like you to take extra care, Miss Harrismith,” he said, gazing down at her. “Until I’ve found out who discharged the firearm.”
He eyes widened. “Yes, of course, I shall, Your Grace.”
She studied him as closely as he did her. His visit was the flimsiest of excuses, but he found himself wanting to see her before he left. He folded his arms and leaned back against the smooth wood of the pianoforte. “Tell me more about your family. You have six siblings? Their names?”
She looked faintly surprised. “Jarred is my father’s heir. He is a law clerk at the Inns of Court.”
“He is not at university?”
“No. Unfortunately there was no money for that. Colin, who is twenty, serves in the navy. We haven’t seen him for almost two years.”
“Do any of his letters reach home?”
“Yes, we have been fortunate to have received two. The last a few months ago. He wrote of his new experiences. The exotic places he visits.” Her lovely eyes sparkled. “He has eaten the flesh of a coconut! I’ve only seen a picture of one. It is a hard life, but he seems happy at sea.” She paused, and he nodded to encourage her. “Arabella, or Bella as she is known to us, is seventeen. She is the beauty of the family and is to make her Come-out soon. Then Beth, who is a gentle soul of thirteen. She loves animals, and is always bringing home strays, rabbits, birds with broken wings, even a fox cub, which Papa would not allow her to keep.”
Andrew smiled. “I can’t say I blame your father for that.”
Mischief sparked in her eyes. “No, but it was the snake that upset Papa the most. Beth brought it in in a box when the vicar had called. He spilled his tea in his lap.”
He chuckled. “And the younger boys?”
“Charley is ten and practices sword play, as he intends to be a hussar, but he spends hours planning battles with his tin soldiers, so I suspect he might rise to be a general! Edmond is the baby at eight. He is a rather solemn little boy. My father believes he is destined for the church.”
A change had taken place in Miss Harrismith as she spoke. Her gaze drifted away from him. He sensed that in her mind she was back at her home in York. Her love for her family shone in her eyes. While he had grown to admire her and was grateful that his children would be safe and content in her care, her presence here also bothered him a great deal.
“You miss your siblings,” he said drawing her back.
She looked startled. “A little. But I’ve been too busy to think of home very often.”
He didn’t believe her. But she was a surprisingly independent young woman, and proud, he suspected. He wondered again why she had left them and come to Castlebridge. “If Arabella has a London Season, won’t you wish to be there with her?”
“She won’t be going to London.”
“So, like you, that opportunity isn’t available to her?”
“No. It is very expensive.”
He thought it most unfortunate that these children were brought up in such a careless manner. The eldest boy not going to Oxford when he was obviously clever, not to mention the girls missing out on what every young lady wished for: a London Season, and a chance to marry well. He thought of Barbara who would enjoy the best of everything and was glad he could provide it for her. Didn’t every father wish for that? A baron with an estate should be able to find the money from somewhere, and he wondered again what had happened to send this young woman, who so loved her family, far from home.
Barbara had wandered up to them. She ran her hands along the pianoforte keys striking discordant notes. “Will you play and sing for us, Miss Harrismith?”
William had joined them. “Can we have Greensleeves, please?”
Andrew smiled. “Yes, Miss Harrismith. Greensleeves, it is.”
She looked adorably flustered. “If you wish, Your Grace.”
He winked at William who grinned. “I do wish.”
Barbara clapped her hands as the governess took her place at the pianoforte.
Miss Harrismith, her long slender fingers on the keys, began to play, her voice rising pure and sweet.
Barbara began to sing with her, then after William joined in, Andrew added his baritone.
He found himself rocked by a realization. This was what a family should be. Enjoying a picnic, or gathered together around the pianoforte. Might Greta sing as charmingly as Miss Harrismith?
When the music died away, and she rose from the pianoforte, he bowed his head. “Well done, Miss Harrismith,” he said. “I must go.” For the last half hour, he’d forgotten his concerns but now they rushed back.
Barbara and William had returned to play with the kitten. He ruffled Barbara’s hair and placed a hand on William’s shoulder, wishing he could sweep them up in a hug. “Be good for your governess, children.” He expected them not to notice, they were so caught up with their new pet, but they both jumped up.
&nb
sp; “Goodbye, Father,” William said smiling shyly at him.
“Will you come and see the kitten again?” Barbara demanded.
“As soon as I can.”
Andrew said goodbye to the governess and left them. It would not be tomorrow, he thought with regret.
Chapter Ten
It took a while for Jenny to settle Barbara; the child kept getting out of bed to check on the kitten which was curled up in the basket on the floor. Finally, both children dropped off to sleep, and Jenny retired to her bed leaving the nursery door ajar.
She must have fallen asleep. She and the duke were waltzing, he with the precision and grace of movement she’d come to expect, along with the strength and self-command which was inherently him. Suddenly, a dark shadow loomed over them. They broke apart, and Jenny, heart beating hard, backed away from some unknown terror.
A wail brought her awake. Jenny leapt out of bed and stumbled into the nursery. Barbara sat up in bed. “Carrot’s run away.”
“He can’t have gone far, sweetheart.” The candle lit, she turned to search the room. No sign of Carrot. In the far corner, William’s bed was empty, the covers thrown back. With a sense of panic she discovered the door to the corridor stood open.
“William’s gone to get him,” Barbara said.
“He’ll be searching the corridor.” Jenny peered out into the shadowy hallway and called his name. Her voice echoed eerily back at her. She came back to the anxious little girl. “I’ll fetch William and Carrot. You must stay in your bed, Barbara, until the footman comes. Promise me?”
Barbara sniffed and nodded. “You’ll bring Carrot back?”
“Don’t worry. Carrot won’t have gone far.” Jenny pulled the bell then ran into her bedroom and snatched up her dressing gown. She pushed her feet into her slippers.
She closed the nursery door behind her. “William?” Her slippers tapped hollowly down the dim corridor bathed in shadows. She should have taken time to light the lantern, but fortunately, enough moonlight shone in to light her way.
There was no sign of William as she walked along the corridor. Her calls were met with silence. She had come to the end of the corridor. The door leading down was locked. There was nowhere to go except up the stairs to the round tower unless he’d gone in the other direction and down the main stairs. In that case, he would safely return soon. But if he’d followed the kitten up… Jenny didn’t hesitate. She entered the narrow stairs and began to climb as the wooden steps creaked and echoed emptily. At the floor above, the door was locked. She gathered what was left of her breath to call again. She should go back, but found she couldn’t ignore the risk that he might be up there.
She entered the empty round chamber at the top of the stairs, and gasped for breath, her heart banging against her ribs. She hated heights and had never been tempted to come up to the tower. The door to the roof stood open, moonlight flooding inside. Surely William wouldn’t go out onto the parapet? Why then was the door left open? Jenny stepped outside into a moaning wind, while praying that Carrot had led William down to the floors below, and he was now safely back in his bed in the nursery. The blast of cold air hit her, making her blink, and carrying with it a faint sound. Was it William? She yelled, but the wind snatched her voice away. Behind the battlements the narrow walkway led around the tower. There were wide gaps at intervals in the masonry. Up here the moonlight looked ghostly, but it did help her find her way. She tried not to look beyond the battlements to the inky blackness below. She called again, her voice hoarse. Was she being foolish? Should she turn back?
“I’m here.” William’s faint voice carried on the wind.
“Where?” She almost choked on a cry of relief as she moved along crab-like, leaning into the sloping roof and away from the dreadful drop, one stumble and… “Where are you, William?”
On the moonlit side it was easy to make her way, but when she moved back into shadow away from the moon, her steps became frustratingly slow. She’d almost circumnavigated the tower when she found him. Shock and panic gripped her, pulling her up. William was above her on the sloping roof, squashed into a narrow space beneath the finial. Carrot struggled and mewed piteously in his arms. If he slipped, he would tumble…
“I’m here now, William.” She positioned herself beneath him and held up her arms. He had begun to climb down but there was still several feet between them. “I’ll take the cat.”
William’s face looked as pale as the moon. He edged sideways down the slope. When he reached where Jenny had anchored herself, legs spread, ready to help him, he balked. The last bit required him to leave the roof and step down onto the parapet. It frightened her as much as he. “First, give me Carrot,” she said, forcing calm authority into her voice.
He gasped. “I… I can’t. The cat will fall.”
“Cats are nimble. They have nine lives, didn’t you know? I won’t let him go. You can do it.” She sucked in a breath as William leaned toward her, the kitten protesting. “That’s right, now…” Jenny reached up and grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck. While Carrot wriggled and yowled, Jenny locked a vice-like grip on William’s arm with her free hand as he dropped down. “That’s right. Good boy!”
As pale as marble he stood beside her. Shaking, he struggled to speak. “I was afraid, Miss… Jenny.”
“Of course you were, William. So was I! But you are so very brave. And it’s all right now,” she said briskly. “Hang onto me and we’ll edge our way around to the door. Be sure not to look down.”
Minutes later, they ducked their heads and almost fell into the tower room. William sank to the floor. Jenny’s heart pounded loud in her ears as she shut the door. She dropped down close beside him and gave his arm a squeeze and then settled the cat more comfortably in her arms. The purring animal had decided not to put up any more resistance. “How did Carrot manage to get up here?”
“Carrot was on the bottom step,” William said. “I snatched him and ran up here. I didn’t want him to be hurt.”
“Why did you think he would be hurt?”
“Because someone was in the corridor, Jenny. Something woke me. The nursery door was open, and Carrot wasn’t in his basket, so I went out looking for him. When I found him on the stairs, I thought I heard a noise. Something moved in the shadows behind me, so I picked up Carrot and came up here. The door to the roof was open and Carrot escaped. I had to go after him.”
Jenny dragged in ragged breaths to still her anxiety and calm her voice. “William, tell me exactly what you saw and heard.”
“I thought I heard footsteps,” he said. “But then you called out. Whoever it was, must have run away.”
“But wouldn’t I have seen them? They would have to pass by me in the corridor.”
“I don’t know, Jenny…” His voice broke. “I couldn’t have imagined it, could I?”
“I’m not sure, William. The shadows can look like that sometimes. You didn’t see who it was?”
He shook his head. “Just a dark shape moving away.”
She gasped. “I left Barbara alone. We must go back.”
They descended the stairs and hurried along the corridor to the nursery. “We mustn’t worry Barbara with this, William.”
“No, Jenny.”
In the nursery, Barbara was sobbing and giving a garbled account to the mystified footman.
“It’s all right, dearest. William and Carrot are here. They’re both safe.” Jenny forced some warmth into her voice while her mind was struggling with the possibility that someone intended to harm William. Too many coincidences, she heard her father saying.
She placed the kitten in Barbara’s arms. The animal immediately kneaded a spot on the bed and settled down. Barbara yawned, lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes. Soon, she slept.
Jenny turned toward the footman. “George, can you have some hot chocolate sent up for Lord William? The kitten escaped so you see we’ve had a bit of a scare. After you bring it, could you spend the rest of the night here?
”
George, reassuringly tall and of a solid build, nodded. He bowed to William. “Of course, Miss Harrismith. I’ll see to it, right away.”
Jenny locked the door behind George. “Back into bed, William. After your chocolate you must try to sleep. In the morning, your father will deal with this.”
“Father will be angry.” William shivered as he climbed into bed.
“Yes he will be. But not with you, William.”
The next morning, Jenny dragged herself from her bed. William was still asleep, exhausted by his experience during the night. She washed and dressed quickly.
George napped in a chair she’d placed by the door. She poked him gently on the arm and his eyes flew open.
“Thank you, George. I’ve rung for Mary. I need to speak to the duke.”
The footman stood stretching his arms. “Glad to be of help, Miss Harrismith.”
When Mary arrived, Jenny explained her mission, without telling her the reason. She hurried downstairs to the kitchen.
Cook stood before the mammoth stove stirring eggs. “I’m sorry to interrupt you at this busy time, but has His Grace breakfasted?” she asked raising her voice above the clatter of a pair of kitchen maids bustling in and out of the pantries, and a maid in the scullery, working furiously at their tasks.
Narrow-eyed, Cook glanced at her. Jenny knew that a governess was not viewed as part of the staff below stairs, and she did not have any authority here. It was a difficult position to be in. And the fact that she was a lord’s daughter didn’t help.
“His Grace has not eaten breakfast. Nor does he require any,” Cook said.
“Why?”
Cook kept stirring the wooden ladle coated with egg. The strong smell of bacon fought for ascendency with the parsley. “Best you ask Mrs. Pollitt.”
Jenny knocked on the housekeeper’s door. Invited to enter she hurried inside. “I need to speak to His Grace, Mrs. Pollitt. It’s important. Do you know if he’s here?”
Mrs. Pollitt’s features arranged themselves in strong disapproval. “Are you sure it is important?”
Regency Scandals and Scoundrels: A Regency Historical Romance Collection Page 54
