Deception

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Deception Page 11

by Amanda Quick


  “Thank you.” Jared studied the proud line of her graceful spine. “I do not believe anyone has ever done that before.”

  “Done what?”

  “Leaped to my defense.”

  “Oh. It was nothing.” Olympia lifted one shoulder in a small shrug.

  Jared smiled slightly. “Not in my view, Miss Wingfield.”

  “Mrs. Pettigrew had no right to attack you in that manner. And neither did Mrs. Norbury, although I suppose one must find some excuse for her. She is not a very strong female.”

  “Unlike yourself,” Jared said. “But even the strongest of females must have a care for her reputation. I collect from what I overheard a few minutes ago that Mrs. Pettigrew is deeply concerned about yours.”

  “Apparently.” Olympia did not turn around.

  “What about you, Miss Wingfield?” Jared took a step closer and stopped. He was not certain what to do or say next. No woman’s reputation had ever before been in jeopardy because of his actions. Dull, unexciting men of business such as himself rarely got into situations in which they succeeded in being a threat to any female.

  “I do not give a fig for my reputation.” Olympia clasped her hands very tightly in front of her. “Aunt Sophy always said that a reputation was nothing more than the world’s opinion and the world was frequently wrong. The important thing was one’s honor and she made it clear that was a private matter between oneself and one’s conscience. I am not the least concerned about what Mrs. Pettigrew thinks of me.”

  “I see.” Jared supposed he should be relieved to hear that Olympia was not going to hold him responsible for damaging her reputation. He wondered why he felt no great weight being lifted from his shoulders. “If you are not dispirited because of Mrs. Pettigrew’s opinion, then what is the problem, Miss Wingfield?”

  “Did you not hear her, sir? She threatened to send my nephews away,” Olympia whispered. “She said that they should not be exposed to the immoral influences in this household and that her husband would be willing to pay some distant relative to take them.”

  “Bastard,” Jared said under his breath.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “It was nothing, Miss Wingfield. It just occurred to me that Pettigrew is more desperate than I had realized.”

  “Yes. I was not aware that Squire Pettigrew and his wife were quite so concerned about my reputation.” Olympia swung around to face him. Her eyes gleamed with determination. “It might be best if we took the boys out of Upper Tudway for a while. Do you think we shall realize enough money from the sale of my uncle’s goods to provide for a trip to the seaside?”

  Jared elevated one brow. “Yes, I am quite certain you will have enough money to go to the seaside.”

  “Excellent.” Olympia brightened. “When do you think we shall hear from your friend in London?”

  “Any time, Miss Wingfield. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day.” It would not take Felix Hartwell long to dispose of Olympia’s goods, Jared thought. He only hoped that Hartwell was making some progress on his investigations into the embezzlement matter. Perhaps there would be news on that front when word came of the sale of the Wingfield shipment.

  “I am very glad to hear that,” Olympia said. “If we remove ourselves from Upper Tudway for a fortnight or so, perhaps Mrs, Pettigrew will calm down. I am also hopeful that Squire Pettigrew will not be overly enthusiastic about the notion of paying someone to take my nephews. He is rather careful with his money.”

  Jared contemplated the situation for a brief moment. “Miss Wingfield, your plan to take the boys and decamp to the seaside is not a bad one, but I believe it will be unnecessary.”

  Olympia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why is that?”

  “I had intended to pay a call on Pettigrew in the near future. Now that Mrs. Pettigrew has begun making threats, I believe I shall not put the conversation off any longer. I shall call on him tomorrow.”

  Olympia eyed him with a quizzical gaze. “I do not understand, Mr. Chillhurst. Why do you wish to speak with Squire Pettigrew? What will you say to him?”

  “I shall endeavor to explain to him that neither he nor his wife will be allowed to make any more threats or to overset you in any way. In short, I shall tell him to stay out of your affairs.”

  “Jared. I mean, Mr. Chillhurst, you must not do anything that will cause yourself more trouble.” Olympia hurried across the room and put her hand on Jared’s arm. “You must consider your own reputation.”

  Jared smiled briefly. “My reputation?”

  “But of course. A tutor must be extremely careful. I shall be most happy to give you an excellent reference when you leave us, of course, but if Squire Pettigrew puts it about that you are a wicked influence on youth, well, there is no telling how difficult it might be for you to obtain another position.”

  Jared covered her hand with one of his own. “You need not concern yourself with my reputation, Miss Wingfield. I assure you, I will never have any trouble obtaining a living.”

  She searched his face with troubled eyes. “You’re quite certain of that?”

  “Absolutely positive, Miss Wingfield.”

  “Nevertheless, I still think it would be best if we left Upper Tudway for a while.”

  “As you wish, Miss Wingfield.” Jared hesitated. “I assume I shall be going with you?”

  Olympia gazed at him in surprise. “Of course. You’re part of my household staff. I do not know what I would do without you.”

  “Thank you, Miss Wingfield.” Jared inclined his head in a small bow. “I make every effort to give satisfaction.”

  “Rest assured that you do, Mr. Chillhurst.”

  The message from Felix arrived in the morning post. Mrs. Bird brought it to the breakfast table and handed it to Jared.

  “Thank you,” Jared said.

  “Don’t get much mail here at Meadow Stream Cottage,” Mrs. Bird informed him. She stood waiting, coffeepot in hand.

  Jared realized that she was hoping to hear the contents of the letter. He glanced down the table at the row of other eager faces. Olympia and her nephews were watching him expectantly. Even Minotaur appeared interested. Communications from the world beyond the vicinity of Upper Tudway were clearly something of a treat.

  “Is the letter from your friend in London?” Olympia asked.

  “Yes it is, as a matter of fact.” Jared broke the seal and opened the single sheet of foolscap.

  “Did Mr. Hartwell sell everything for us, Mr. Chillhurst?” Ethan asked.

  “I’ll wager your friend got every bit as much as Squire Pettigrew did on the last shipment,” Robert said.

  “I’ll wager he got even more,” Hugh declared.

  Jared looked up briefly. “You are correct, Hugh.”

  “Really?” Olympia glowed with anticipation. “Enough to enable us to go to the seaside for a fortnight?”

  “More than enough.” Jared glanced down at the note and read it aloud.

  Chillhurst:

  I have followed your instructions and sold the contents of the rather mixed assortment of goods you had conveyed to me. Not quite your usual style of business, if I may say so. Nevertheless, the deed is done. I have deposited a draft in the sum of three thousand pounds to the account of Miss Olympia Wingfield. Please let me know if I can he of further assistance ….

  Robert nearly exploded out of his chair. “Three thousand pounds.”

  “Three thousand pounds,” Hugh echoed in awe.

  Olympia just stared in open-mouthed amazement.

  Jared gave up trying to read the letter aloud as chaos broke out in the breakfast room. He quickly scanned the rest of the letter in silence as everyone exclaimed in excitement.

  As to the other matter you have instructed me to look into, I regret to say that I have made very little progress. I believe the embezzled monies were pocketed by one of your ship’s captains but we shall never be able to prove it. My advice would be to dismiss the captain in question. Let me know your wishes
in the matter and I shall act accordingly.

  Yrs,

  Felix

  Jared frowned thoughtfully as he refolded the letter. He made a mental note to tell Felix to take no action against the captain yet.

  He placed the letter beside his plate and glanced up to see that everyone at the table was still in shock from the news of the profit that had been realized on the shipment of goods.

  Hugh and Ethan were bouncing up and down in their seats. Robert was giving Olympia a string of suggestions about what could be done with the money. Minotaur had somehow gotten hold of a sausage.

  “A bloody fortune, it is,” Mrs. Bird said in a dazed fashion. She repeated the phrase over and over again. “A bloody fortune, it is.”

  Olympia looked torn between delight and dread. “Mr. Chillhurst, are you quite certain there has been no mistake?”

  “There is no mistake.” Jared picked up his fork and began to eat his eggs. “I assure you, Hartwell does not make mistakes when it comes to money.” Which meant that Felix was no doubt correct in his conclusion that one of the Flamecrest captains was responsible for the large sums of money that had disappeared during the past year. But Jared was not satisfied with that answer. He wanted more proof.

  “But there must be a mistake,” Olympia insisted. “Perhaps he meant three hundred pounds, although even that would be a great sum compared to what we got from the last lot of goods.”

  “Obviously the market for imported items has improved considerably in the past few months,” Jared said dryly. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to delay the start of today’s lessons for an hour or so.”

  “Why?” Hugh demanded. “We’re supposed to study the properties of clouds and wind this morning.”

  “Yes,” Ethan said quickly. “You said you would tell us how Captain Jack once managed to elude a Spanish vessel because he knew more about meteorology than the Spanish captain did.”

  “We will get to that eventually.” Jared rose from the table and checked the time on his watch. “This other matter must be attended to first.” He slipped the watch back into his pocket.

  Olympia got up to follow him out into the hall. When they were beyond the hearing of the boys, she put an anxious hand on Jared’s arm.

  “Mr. Chillhurst, are you quite certain that you are not taking any undue risk by calling upon Squire Pettigrew?”

  “Quite certain.” Jared plucked his coat from a brass hook. He could feel the weight of the dagger lodged firmly in its hidden sheath. The blade settled comfortably against his ribs as he shrugged into the garment.

  Olympia frowned. “Perhaps I should come with you.”

  “That will not be necessary.” Jared was touched. It really was very odd and not at all unpleasant to have someone else take such a keen interest in his welfare. “I assure you I have been looking after myself for some time now.”

  “Yes, I know, but you are employed in my household and I feel I have a responsibility toward you. I would not want you to come to any harm.”

  “Thank you, Miss Wingfield.” Jared caught her chin on the heel of his hand and brushed his mouth against hers. “But I assure you I am not in any danger from Pettigrew.” He smiled wickedly down at her. “There is only one genuine threat that I am aware of at the moment.”

  Olympia’s eyes widened in alarm. “What is that?”

  “The possibility that I might burst into flames at any second due to the smoldering effects of unsatisfied desire.”

  “Mr. Chillhurst.” Olympia turned a vivid shade of pink, but her eyes lit with a deep, answering glow of feminine excitement.

  “Until later, my sweet siren.”

  Whistling softly, Jared left Olympia standing in the hall and walked out into the warm spring morning.

  “Mr. Chillhurst, wait.” Olympia hurried out onto the front steps.

  Jared turned around and smiled. “Yes, Miss Wingfield?”

  “You will be careful, will you not?”

  “Yes, Miss Wingfield. I will be very careful.”

  Minotaur came bounding around the corner of the house. Tongue lolling, he wagged his tail and looked hopefully up at Jared.

  “I’m afraid you cannot come with me this morning,” Jared said. “Stay here and keep an eye on things for me. I shall return soon.”

  Minotaur sat down on the steps and leaned heavily against Olympia. The dog was clearly disappointed, but philosophical.

  It was a relatively short stroll to the Pettigrew farm if one cut through the meadow and the patch of trees that bordered the stream. Jared spent the time contemplating the strange turn his life had taken of late.

  The scene he had come upon yesterday afternoon in Olympia’s library had given him pause. Mrs. Pettigrew’s remarks about Olympia’s reputation had been annoying, but he was forced to concede that they were not without merit. Jared knew, even if Olympia did not, that they were playing fast and loose with her reputation.

  Passion was an amazing emotion, he thought. Now that he had experienced it firsthand, he had the greatest respect for its power. Nevertheless, he was a gentleman and he had no intention of ruining Olympia. Even if she did not seem to mind being ruined.

  The yelps of a kennel full of hunting hounds greeted Jared as he walked up the lane to the Pettigrew house. He examined the property with great interest. The farm was obviously a prosperous one. Jared wondered idly how many of the improvements had been paid for with funds that had been stolen from Olympia and her uncle.

  Jared went up the steps and knocked loudly on the front door. It was opened a moment later by a middle-aged housekeeper in a gray dress, a white cap, and an apron. She stared first at Jared’s eye patch.

  “Ye be the new Wingfield tutor they’re all talkin’ about, ain’t ye?” she demanded.

  “I’m Chillhurst. Kindly tell Pettigrew that I wish to speak with him.”

  “He ain’t here,” the housekeeper said quickly. “I mean, he ain’t in the house at the moment.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Around at the stables.” The housekeeper continued to gaze at him in rapt fascination. “I’ll fetch him for ye, if ye like.”

  “Thank you. I’ll find him, myself.”

  Jared turned and went down the steps. He walked around the corner of the house and saw the freshly painted stables.

  High-pitched, excited voices caught his attention as he passed the open kitchen door.

  “It’s him, I tell ye,” the housekeeper said to someone else in the house. “The new tutor. They say he’s a pirate what’s been ravishin’ Miss Wingfield every night since he arrived there at Meadow Stream Cottage.”

  “I heard he was living in the old gamekeeper’s cottage at the foot of the lane, same as the others she hired,” came the tart reply.

  “Well, who’s to know just where he spends his nights, I ask ye?” the housekeeper retorted. “Strikes me anything could be goin’ on there and no one the wiser. Poor Miss Wingfield.”

  “I ain’t so sure she’s to be pitied.”

  “How can ye say such a thing? She’s a proper young lady, she is,” the housekeeper insisted. “Even if she is a bit odd. Not her fault. She was raised odd by them two aunts o’ hers.”

  “I never said she weren’t a proper young lady. But she’s five-and-twenty and ain’t got a prayer of ever gettin’ herself married. Leastways she don’t as long as she’s got those three young hellions to look after. I’ll wager she’s havin’ a grand time bein’ ravished every night by a pirate. I can think of worse fates.”

  “Not for Miss Wingfield.” There was genuine shock in the housekeeper’s voice. “Ain’t never been a word o’ scandal about her and well ye know it. No, that bloody pirate is takin’ advantage of her, he is. Lord only knows what he’s doin’ to her at night.”

  “Something interestin’ I hope, for Miss Wingfield’s sake.”

  Jared set his back teeth and stalked on toward his destination.

  The scent of hay and manure greeted him a few minutes
later as he walked into the shadowed stables. A sleek, well-muscled bay gelding whickered inquiringly and stuck his head over a stall door. Jared ran a critical eye over the expensive looking horse.

  The sound of Pettigrew’s voice came from a stall at the far end of the dimly lit stables.

  “I’ve arranged to have the mare covered by Henninger’s new stallion. He’s a prime bit of blood and that’s a fact. It’ll cost me a packet, but it’ll be worth it.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Did you get a new shoe on the bay’s left fore?” Pettigrew emerged from the stall, a riding crop in his hand. He was followed by a short, wiry groom.

  “Took ’em down to the blacksmith’s yesterday,” the groom said. “He’s right as rain now, Mr. Pettigrew.”

  “Excellent. I mean to ride him in the local hunt next week.” Pettigrew slapped his leg absently with the riding crop. “Let’s have a look at the hounds.” He squinted against the sunlight that poured through the stable door behind Jared. “What’s this? Who’s there?”

  “Chillhurst.”

  “Chillhurst?” Pettigrew eyed him warily. “What the bloody hell are you doing in my stables?”

  “I came to have a few words with you, Pettigrew.”

  “Now see here, I’ve got nothing to say to you. Get off my land.”

  “I’ll leave soon enough but first there are a few things you ought to know.” Jared flicked a glance at the sullen looking groom. “I suggest we have this conversation in private.”

  “Damned bloody arrogant tutor.” Pettigrew scowled ferociously but he sent the groom from the stables with a flick of the small whip.

  Jared waited until the groom had vanished through the door.

  “I won’t take up much of your time, Pettigrew. There are just two points I want to make. The first is that there are to be no more threats made to Miss Wingfield.”

 

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