by Amanda Quick
“Threats? How dare you, sir?” Pettigrew sputtered furiously. “I have never threatened Miss Wingfield.”
“No, I believe you had your wife do the job for you,” Jared said. “It does not signify. The only thing you need to remember is that the threats are not to be repeated, let alone carried out.”
“Damnation. You’re gettin’ a bit above yourself, you bloody upstart bastard. What the devil are you talking about?”
“You know very well what I am talking about, Pettigrew. Miss Wingfield was told that unless she got rid of me, her nephews would be sent away.”
“Miss Wingfield should get rid of you immediately,” Pettigrew blustered. “You can hardly claim that you’re a good influence on impressionable young boys. Or on an impressionable young woman, for that matter.”
“Be that as it may, I shall be remaining in my position in the Wingfield household. And if you so much as even attempt to have the boys removed from Miss Wingfield’s care, you will regret it.”
Pettigrew narrowed his eyes. “I have known Miss Wingfield for years, sir. Indeed, I counted myself a friend of her aunts. I feel a responsibility to do what I believe is best for Miss Olympia. Furthermore, I do not intend to let you intimidate me, Chillhurst.”
“But I am going to intimidate you.” Jared smiled slightly. “If you make one move to take the boys away from Miss Wingfield, I shall see to it that the manner in which you have been systematically cheating her becomes public knowledge.”
Pettigrew stared at him in slack-mouthed shock. A dark red flush suffused his heavy face. “How dare you accuse me of cheating her!”
“Easily enough, I assure you.”
“It’s a damnable lie.”
“No,” Jared said. “It’s the truth. I am well aware of the contents of the previous shipments of goods which you handled for Miss Wingfield. They were similar to the contents of the one I disposed of for her. They should have fetched a similar amount, somewhere in the neighborhood of three thousand pounds and I’ll wager they did.”
“That is not true,” Pettigrew hissed.
“You stole that money, Pettigrew.”
“You cannot prove a thing, you bastard.”
“Ah, but I can. I have an acquaintance in London who could quickly discover all the facts. And I will instruct him to do so if you do not make good on what you owe Miss Wingfield.”
Pettigrew’s face contorted with fury. “I’ll teach you to threaten me, you bloody bastard.” He raised the riding crop and brought it downward in a swift, slashing movement aimed at Jared’s good eye.
Jared blocked the blow with one arm. He jerked the whip from Pettigrew’s hand and tossed it aside in disgust. Then he reached inside his coat and slipped the dagger from its sheath.
He shoved the stunned Pettigrew back against a stall door and held the tip of the blade to his throat. “You have offended me, Pettigrew.”
Pettigrew could not take his eyes off the dagger. He licked his lips. “You cannot do this. I’ll have you taken up by the magistrate. You’ll hang, Chillhurst.”
“I doubt that. But you are certainly free to speak to the magistrate if you wish. First, however, you will make out a draft to Miss Wingfield for the money that you owe her from those last two shipments.”
Pettigrew shuddered. Desperation appeared in his eyes. “I haven’t got it. Already spent it.”
“On what?”
“See here,” Pettigrew whispered. “You do not understand. I needed the money from the first shipment to pay off some debts of honor.”
“You lost Miss Wingfield’s money in a card game?”
“No, no, I lost my farm in the damned card game.” Sweat beaded Pettigrew’s brow. “I thought I was finished. Ruined. And then Olympia came to me for advice on how to dispose of a shipment of goods her uncle had recently sent to her. It was like the answer to a prayer.”
“Your prayers, not Miss Wingfield’s,” Jared said.
“I meant to pay her back as soon as everything came right.” Pettigrew gave Jared a beseeching look. “Then the next shipment arrived and I realized I could make a variety of improvements to my farm.”
“So you could not resist stealing the second shipment.” Jared smiled thinly. “And you have the gall to call me a pirate.”
“With the new improvements the farm will be much more productive,” Pettigrew said earnestly. “I shall be able to reimburse Miss Wingfield very quickly.”
Jared nodded toward the expensive gelding. “Was the bay one of the necessary improvements you felt obliged to make around here?”
Pettigrew was incensed. “A man’s got to have a proper horse for the hunt.”
“And what about that new landau your wife arrived in yesterday?”
“She has her position in the village to maintain. Look here, Chillhurst, I shall be able to pay Miss Wingfield back within a year or two. I swear it.”
“You will begin paying her back immediately.”
“Damnation, man, I haven’t got the blunt.”
“You can start raising the necessary by selling that bay gelding. He’ll bring four or five hundred guineas at least.”
“Sell the bay? Are you mad? I just bought him.”
“You will find a buyer for him,” Jared said. “And when you have sold the gelding, you had best find someone to purchase the landau. I calculate that you owe Miss Wingfield nearly six thousand pounds.”
“Six thousand pounds?” Pettigrew looked dazed.
“You have two months to come up with the money.”
Jared released Pettigrew. He sheathed the dagger, turned, and walked back out of the stables. Outside he noticed Pettigrew’s sullen-eyed groom watching him from the kennels.
Jared hesitated as a thought struck him. He walked over to stand directly in front of the groom.
“You left muddy footprints on Miss Wingfield’s carpet night before last,” Jared said casually. “And you knocked over her brandy decanter. I should probably make you pay for the window latch that you ruined just as I am making your employer pay for the monies he stole.”
Shock lit the groom’s eyes. He gaped at Jared and then began to stammer wildly. “Now, see here, I don’t know what yer talkin’ about. I wasn’t in Miss Wingfield’s library last night or any other night. I swear I wasn’t. I don’t care what the squire says.”
“Did I say the footprints and the decanter and the broken latch were in her library?” Jared asked politely.
The groom’s eyes widened in horror as he realized he had fallen into the small trap. “It weren’t my fault. I was only doin’ what the squire ordered me to do. I didn’t hurt anyone. I would never have hurt anyone. I was just lookin’ for somethin’ the squire wanted, that’s all. He said he’d dismiss me if I didn’t look for it.”
“What were you searching for? A letter, perhaps?”
“Papers,” the groom said. “He told me to bring back any notes or letters and such pertaining to financial matters that I found in her desk. But I never had a chance to get into the bloody thing. The damned dog barked and then I heard sounds upstairs and I got out of there.”
“Stay out of there,” Jared advised. “The next time you try anything of that nature you will very likely trip over me instead of the brandy decanter.”
“Yes, sir. I won’t go near the cottage again.”
There were certain advantages to having the face of a pirate, Jared thought as he walked back toward Meadow Stream Cottage. People tended to take one seriously.
Jared went up the steps of the cottage, opened the door, and was greeted with a scene of chaos and confusion. He had only been away an hour and already the household had fallen into an uproar. Jared smiled wryly. A tutor’s work was never done.
Minotaur yelped excitedly as Jared walked into the hall. Ethan and Hugh called loudly to each other as they hauled a large, dusty trunk down the stairs. Robert shouted instructions from the landing. He grinned widely when he spotted Jared.
“Mr. Chillhurst, you’re back. Aunt Olympia s
ays we won’t be having our lessons today. We’re to pack for the journey.”
“I see your aunt has determined to set out for the seaside without delay.” Jared was amused by Olympia’s decisiveness. She was certainly determined to whisk her little household to safety.
“No, no, Mr. Chillhurst.” Ethan struggled with his end of the huge trunk. “We’re not going to the seaside after all. We’re going to London.”
“London?” Jared was startled.
“Yes. Isn’t it exciting, sir?” Hugh grinned. “Aunt Olympia says that since we now have a packet of money, we are going to use it to go to London. We’ve never been there, you see.”
“Aunt Olympia says the trip will be very educational,” Robert explained. “She says we shall visit museums and see Vauxhall Gardens and do all sorts of things.”
“Aunt Olympia says there will no doubt be a fair underway in one of the parks and we may see fireworks and eat ices and see a balloon ascension,” Ethan added.
“She says we shall probably go to a theater called Astley’s where they have acrobats and magicians and trained ponies,” Hugh offered. “She read about them in advertisements in the London papers.”
“I see.” Jared’s brows rose as Mrs. Bird appeared with a stack of folded shirts. “Where is Miss Wingfield?”
“In the library.” Mrs. Bird looked glum. “Lot of nonsense, this is. Don’t see why we cannot stay put like normal folk. No need to go chasing off to London.”
Jared ignored her. He walked into the library and closed the door. Olympia was seated at her desk, her head bent over a copy of one of the London papers. She glanced up quickly when she heard him enter the room.
“Jared. I mean, Mr. Chillhurst, you’re back.” She studied him anxiously. “Did all go well?”
“Squire Pettigrew will not be bothering you or the boys again. I will explain it all to you later. What is this about a trip to London?”
“A famous notion, is it not?” Olympia smiled brilliantly. “It occurred to me that with the three thousand pounds we received from my uncle’s shipment of goods, we can afford to go all the way to London. It will be a wonderful experience for the boys and I shall be able to use the time to do some research on the diary.”
“Research?”
“Yes. I would like to consult some maps of the West Indies that belong to the Society for Travel and Exploration. The diary makes reference to an island which I cannot seem to locate on any of my own maps of that region.”
Jared hesitated as he swiftly calculated the potential problems involved in a journey to London. “Where do you plan to stay?”
“Why, we shall take a house for a month. It should be a simple matter.”
“No.”
Olympia blinked, astonished. “I beg your pardon?”
Jared realized he had momentarily forgotten his position in the household. He was supposed to take orders from Olympia, not give them to her. Unfortunately giving orders was an old habit.
“A trip to London at this particular juncture strikes me as a very unsound notion, Miss Wingfield,” he said carefully.
“Why is that?”
“For one thing, I would be obliged to find lodgings, too. They would most likely be located at a considerable distance from the house you obtain. I do not care for the thought of you and the boys being alone at night in London.” He paused delicately. “Not after what happened here two nights ago.”
“You mean that business of someone creeping about my library?” Olympia frowned in thoughtful consideration.
“Precisely,” Jared said smoothly. “We cannot take any chances, Miss Wingfield. Here in the country I am only a short distance away down the lane. I can hear you if you call for help.”
It was only one more small deception, he assured himself. He would tell her soon enough that he was certain last night’s intruder had been Pettigrew’s groom. In the meantime he needed an excuse to avoid this harebrained trip to London.
Olympia hesitated and then a look of satisfaction appeared in her eyes. “The solution is obvious. You shall stay with us in town.”
“With you? You mean in the same house?” Jared was staggered at the thought.
“Of course. There is absolutely no need to go to the extra expense of paying for separate lodgings for you. It’s a waste of money. Furthermore, if we must take steps to defend ourselves against this Guardian person, whoever he is, then you should be near at hand at all times.”
“Near at hand,” Jared repeated blankly.
“Under the same roof,” Olympia said helpfully.
“I see.” The same roof.
The notion of spending his nights under the same roof as his lovely siren was enough to take away his very breath. He would no doubt sleep in a bedchamber next to Olympia’s. He would hear her when she got dressed in the morning and listen to her get undressed at night.
Jared’s mind churned out a myriad fascinating visions. He would see Olympia in the hall when she was on her way to have her bath. He would join her on the stairs when she went down to breakfast or a late night cup of tea. He would be near her morning, noon, and night.
He would go mad, he thought. His passions would consume him. He would have every opportunity to abandon himself to the siren’s call.
It would be heaven living under the same roof as Olympia.
Or hell.
“Is there some problem with my plan, Mr. Chillhurst?”
“I believe so.” For the first time in his entire life Jared found it extraordinarily difficult to think clearly and decisively. “Yes. There is a problem.”
Olympia tilted her head inquiringly. “What is it?”
Jared drew a deep, steadying breath. “Miss Wingfield, need I remind you that your reputation in this district is already hanging by a thread? If I go to London with you and reside under the same roof, you will soon have no reputation left at all.”
“My reputation is of no concern to me, sir, but I am aware that we must take care to protect yours. After all, as I pointed out earlier, you cannot afford to have gossip follow you to your next position.”
Jared seized on that argument. It was the only one she seemed willing to concede. “An excellent point, Miss Wingfield. Gossip can be quite harmful to a tutor, as you so wisely noted.”
“Have no fear, sir. I would not dream of jeopardizing your reputation.” Olympia smiled reassuringly. “But I do not see that there is any difficulty here. After all, no one in Upper Tudway will know we are staying in the same house in London.”
“Ah … well … yes, there is that, however—”
“And no one in London knows you, either, except your friend who disposed of Uncle Artemis’s goods. Surely he will not gossip about you.”
“Ah … well … ”
“It is not as though we shall be going about in social circles. Indeed, we shall be quite anonymous in the crowds that throng a large city such as London.” Olympia chuckled. “Who would even notice us, let alone gossip about us?”
Jared struggled to inject some common sense into the situation. “The landlord of the house you propose to rent, perhaps? The members of the Society for Travel and Exploration whom you plan to contact? Any number of people might talk about us, Miss Wingfield.”
“Hmmm.” Olympia tapped her quill gently against the desktop.
Jared did not care for the expression on her face. “Miss Wingfield., allow me to tell you that a young woman in your position simply cannot—”
“I have it,” she declared suddenly.
“Have what?”
“The perfect answer. If we are discovered and your reputation appears to be in danger, we shall pretend to be a married couple.”
Jared stared at her, stunned into speechlessness.
“Well, sir? What do you think?” Olympia waited expectantly. When Jared failed to respond, she prompted him gently. “Do you not think it an extremely clever scheme?”
“Ah … well—”
“Come now, Mr. Chillhurst. It is
the logical thing to do, not only for the sake of economy but for the sake of efficiency and safety. There really is no other intelligent solution to the problem.”
Jared wanted to inform her that intelligence was a commodity that was singularly lacking in this matter but he could not seem to find the words. The thought of not only living in the same house as Olympia but of pretending to be married to her was dazzling him to the point of lunacy.
The siren’s song had rendered him mad.
“What will you tell your nephews?” he finally got out.
Olympia scowled briefly as she mulled that over for a few seconds. Then her glorious smile returned in full force.
“They need know nothing about it, of course,” she said. “It is highly unlikely that they would come into contact with any adults who might think to question them in depth on our connection. You are their tutor, nothing more nor less. No one will pry further. Is that not correct?”
“I suppose so,” Jared agreed reluctantly. Adults rarely came into contact with young children.
“And we will not be entertaining visitors so there will be no problem from that quarter,” Olympia continued with enthusiasm.
“We are headed for disaster,” Jared muttered under his breath.
“What was that, Mr. Chillhurst?”
“Nothing, Miss Wingfield. Nothing at all.”
And there, in the blink of an eye, Jared thought, went the benefits of a lifetime’s cultivation of common sense, practicality, and sober consideration.
He was no longer the man he had been some days ago; no longer the levelheaded, unimaginative man of business who had innocently set out to buy a stupid diary with the pragmatic intention of keeping the rest of his family out of trouble. He had become, instead, a man in the grip of an all-consuming desire; a man soaring on the wings of passion. He was a poet, a dreamer, a romantic.
He was an idiot.
Matters would have been so much simpler if he had not abandoned his quest for the diary in favor of answering the siren’s call.
Jared looked at Olympia’s lovely, hopeful face and heard the crash of waves against the rocks. He mentally consigned himself to his fate.
“I see no reason why your plan should not work, Miss Wingfield. It sounds like a logical solution to the problem and at the same time it will give your nephews the benefit of an educational experience.”
