The Heiress Convenient Husband

by Regina Scott

  Perhaps she’d taken too many sips of the mineral water, for the effervescence seemed to be rising inside her. Could James have feelings for her? He hadn’t known they might marry when she’d been playing the harp. Her father had always claimed she transported him when she played. Could she have carved a place for herself in James’s heart?

  Suddenly, Maudie brightened. “Oh, look, the pirate!”

  Eva turned, even as she heard the rush of air, as if every lady in the room had exhaled at once. A gentleman had just come into the spa and was surveying the room as if trying to decide upon his prey. His brown coat was common, his breeches worn. But that shock of coal-black hair, that air of command, made him seem taller, bigger, than he likely was. For once, she had to agree with Maudie’s assessment.

  He moved to Miss Chance’s side, listened to her response to his question, then turned toward Eva. She took a step back and bumped into the fountain.

  He strode to their sides. “Mrs. Tully, be a dear and make me known to your charming companion.”

  Maudie frowned at him. “The fairy or the mermaid?”

  “Is she one?” He pressed a hand to his heart. “That must explain her ethereal beauty.”

  Eva started laughing. “Does any lady take you seriously, sir?”

  Now he effected a wounded look. “Miss Faraday, did you steal my heart merely to crush it by your disregard?”

  “I have it on good authority the only person who steals things around here is you,” Eva told him.

  He dropped his hand, but his look veered to Maudie. “Indeed. What have you been saying about me, Mrs. Tully?”

  Was that concern she heard in his flippant tone? Surely not. This fellow was enough of a coxcomb to believe himself the best in all situations.

  “You’re a pirate,” Maudie stated. “You know it’s true. I’ve seen you sailing at night.”

  Something flickered behind his eyes. “Alas, I haven’t been able to sail for some time. Bum knee, you know.” He tapped his right knee with one knuckle as if to prove it.

  Maudie grabbed another glass and filled it. “You need a drink.”

  “You are too kind.” He accepted it from her, but he didn’t take a sip. Instead, he looked at Eva. “I’m Captain St. Claire. Your beloved asked me to be at your disposal while he was away.”

  So, this was James’s friend. She could not imagine what he and James had in common. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Captain, but I have friends and staff. I’ll be fine.”

  “Ah.” He made a show of slugging back the water, then lowered the glass. Maudie watched him as if she thought he might spring up and twirl. “Then you have an escort for the assembly tomorrow night.”

  “No,” Eva allowed, “but I wasn’t planning on attending this week.”

  He set the glass on the lip of the fountain and took one of her hands in his, cradling it close. “And deprive the men of the area of such a treasure? Tell her, Mrs. Tully. She must dance.”

  “There are some very fine toadstools on the road out of town,” Maudie offered. “I’ll go and dance with you if you’d like.”

  Eva bit back a laugh. “I think I might enjoy that more than the assembly.”

  He dropped her hand and bowed. “Very well, madam. You can tell your betrothed that I tried and failed and that he is the most fortunate of mortals.” He turned and strode for the door.

  “I take it you’re not interested in the toadstools,” Maudie said with a sigh.

  Eva shook her head, then turned to her companion. “I have a great deal to do to be ready for this wedding. But I must ask you a favor. When the time comes, will you stand up with me as my attendant?”

  Maudie blinked. “In a church?”

  “Yes.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Will you make me wear pink?”

  “You may wear whatever you like, and if you’d like a new dress, I will gladly pay for its creation.”

  She grinned. “Done. And afterward, we can dance. The mermaids will be so jealous.”

  Eva wasn’t so sure about the mermaids. But some of the other ladies at the spa looked a bit green when she asked Miss Chance if she might borrow Maudie to visit the dressmakers.

  The shop near the bottom of the hill smelled of wool and linen as Eva and Maudie entered, and the shelves behind the counter were overflowing with bolts of patterned cotton and pale muslin.

  “I’m to be married within the week,” Eva explained when the two sisters asked what they might do for her, gazes darting from her to Maudie and back. “Mrs. Tully has graciously agreed to stand up with me.”

  “In a church?” one asked, brows going up.

  Where else did they think she might wed? Or did they think Maudie only attended the weddings of the fairies?

  “In St. Andrew’s,” Eva clarified. “I’ve already spoken to the vicar. I don’t want to put you to any trouble, but I would love to have a new gown for me and one for Mrs. Tully.”

  The shorter of the two sisters hurried to pull down some bolts of pastel satin.

  “We have some lovely lace as well,” the taller sister said to Eva. “Must the other be black?” Her long nose wrinkled, as if she found the thought distasteful.

  Eva looked to Maudie. Her former chaperone was gazing about the shop as if considering it from all angles or listening to other voices. She nodded and faced Miss Pierce.

  “Purple,” she announced. “And none of that lavender, mind you. That should be saved for the pixies.”

  Eva grinned. “I’ve always been fond of purple. Make that two gowns.”

  Miss Pierce looked as if the room was suddenly devoid of air. “Purple? Deep purple? For a wedding?”

  “Why not?” Maudie asked with a frown. “It’s good enough for the trolls.”

  Miss Pierce swayed back to the shelves to deposit her bolts and select new ones. By the time they were done choosing styles, having their measurements taken, and determining finishes, the other shops were closing.

  “I’ll walk you back to the magistrate’s,” Maudie said. “That way you won’t have to talk to that fellow.”

  “Mr. Howland is on his way to London,” Eva reminded her as they set off up the street. “I don’t expect to talk to him until Thursday evening at the earliest.”

  “Not him,” Maudie said. She nodded toward Miss Archer’s gallery on the other side of the street. “That one.”

  Eva just caught the back of a man going into the painter’s. “Was that Mr. Harris?”

  “Maybe,” Maudie said. “He’s been following me. I told him my heart was already taken.”

  “Very wise of you,” Eva said, leading her onward. “We wouldn’t want to give him expectations. Though I do wonder about Lord Featherstone. He’s rather handsome, don’t you think, and of an age with you.”

  “He’s far too old,” Maudie said. “And he looks nothing like my Francis.”

  “Your husband,” Eva reasoned. “Was he a shopkeeper here?”

  “No, he was a sailor, a very fine one. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. He’d have come home to me if the mermaids hadn’t wanted him more. They wrecked his ship. I’m certain of it. It took a long time for me to forgive them for that.”

  “I can imagine,” Eva said softly. “The earl merely tried to steal my fortune, and I’ve yet to forgive him.”

  “He’s a pirate too,” Maudie said with a nod. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. You wait and see.”

  Eva certainly hoped she was right.

  As it was, she was bone-tired by the time dinner was over. She stood for a moment, looking out the window as the lights of the village went out, one by one. Above, stars came into view in the depths of the sky.

  “It’s a lovely village,” Mr. Pym said from behind her. “I hope you’ll be very happy here.”

  “I believe I will, Mr. Pym.” She began to turn, but another light caught her eye. She started. “What is that?”

  Mr. Pym squeezed in beside her, then stiffened. “That’s a fire, that is. So
meone’s burning the fields near the castle!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eva sent Pym to alert Mr. Greer and the militia. She sent Yeager to make sure Mr. Denby and Mr. Chance at the castle could see the fire from their vantage point. She hated waiting for news, but there was little else she could do. She and Patsy remained near the window, watching the flames climb higher until she could see the castle in their glow.

  “How could this have happened?” she worried aloud.

  “Someone’s playing a prank,” Patsy said. “Young folk thinking it’s all fine and good to hold a summer bonfire on the headland now that you and the magistrate have moved out of the castle.”

  If only the reason was so innocent, but Eva couldn’t shake the fear that this was the work of their mysterious stranger.

  Mr. Pym returned first.

  “The militia are on their way,” he assured her and Patsy as he came back into the withdrawing room. “They didn’t even wait to don their red coats.”

  “Did they at least take buckets, a water wagon?” Eva pressed.

  “The village hasn’t needed one before now, miss,” Pym replied. “The last fire we had was at least twenty years ago. It was from a lightning strike on the hill above the spa, and it burned itself out before reaching any building. But never you fear, they have spades and wet cloth. That will have to do.”

  Yeager took longer to return. “Stayed to help the militia,” he reported. “Took a bit for them to figure out how to work together, but they have it under control now. The fire was nearly spent when I left.”

  She wanted to feel relieved. “What was the cause?”

  His face darkened. “It was hard to see into the center of the burn, but it looked to me like someone had set the grass on fire.”

  “Someone out to harm the castle?” Eva guessed.

  As if she was just as concerned, Patsy cringed, but she stayed up with the rest of them until the glow from the hillside had subsided, and the smoke had melded with the night.

  ~~~

  The next morning, Eva took her key to the castle to Jesslyn Chance for Mr. Denby to check the interior. The spa was nearly as ablaze as the hillside when Eva entered. Guests stood in groups, heads close together, and words like fire and danger hung in the air even above the sound of Maudie’s playing at the harpsichord.

  “They sound worried,” Eva murmured to Jesslyn as she handed over the key.

  Jesslyn nodded. “It’s not often we have such a disturbance here. But it will fade.”

  As Eva turned to go, Miss Tapper intercepted her.

  “Were you at the castle last night, Miss Faraday?” she asked, brown brows up. “I could see the flames from the Swan.”

  “Terribly concerning,” her companion, Mrs. Baugh, agreed, large hands worrying before her spring-green gown.

  “I’ve been staying in the village,” Eva assured them. “But I saw the flames too.”

  Lord Featherstone strolled up to them. “Ladies, I would not be unduly concerned. Lightning strikes and the dry grass of summer conspire to start trouble. Wouldn’t you agree, Harris?”

  The younger man had been following in his orbit like a moon a planet. He offered Eva and the others a smile as he joined them. “Of course, my lord. I see no reason for concern, particularly with the local militia to protect us.”

  Eva realized the music had stopped a moment before Maudie squeezed into their group. “It wasn’t a lightning strike or dry grass. Are you afraid to name the true culprit?”

  Miss Tapper smiled at her. “Trolls?”

  “Pirates?” Mrs. Baugh suggested gamely.

  Maudie frowned at them all. “No. French spies.”

  Mr. Harris snorted, then turned the sound into a cough. “Forgive me. I must partake of the waters.” He hurried off. Miss Tapper and Mrs. Baugh excused themselves as well.

  “What do you know, dear lady?” Lord Featherstone asked Maudie.

  Eva held her breath, waiting for the answer.

  “French spies started that fire,” Maudie insisted. “They can’t get into the castle, not with my Alex and Lark watching. So, they must alert their ships another way.”

  Eva exhaled. It certainly made sense. Lord Featherstone must have thought the same, for he turned to Eva and asked, “When do you expect the magistrate back?”

  “Not until Friday,” Eva told him.

  “Then you must assist me,” he said solemnly. “I would not see the spa in such an uproar. It is not conducive to the civility Miss Chance works so hard to maintain.”

  Maudie rubbed an ear. “It’s loud too.”

  “What would you have me do?” Eva asked.

  “Calmer heads may prevail,” he said, glancing around. “Speak to Mrs. Harding. If she is assured of her safety, it will go a long way to assure others. And do me the honor of escorting you to the assembly tonight. Seeing our magistrate’s lady enjoying herself will also shore up flagging spirits.”

  Another offer of escort? No one in Grace-by-the-Sea except James and their staff knew the extent of her fortune or that she was even an heiress. How nice to be valued for what she might contribute instead of her father’s money.

  “I would be honored, my lord,” she said.

  She did not regret the decision. The assembly rooms at the top of the hill were shining with light as she arrived in her carriage. Lord Featherstone was waiting, resplendent in a black tailcoat with satin lapels and a silver-shot waistcoat. He was graciousness personified as he led her around the room, introducing her to spa guests she had not met and the mother and sisters of Jesslyn Chance’s betrothed.

  Eva took an instant liking to Miss Rosemary Denby, the younger sister. She kept twirling a lorgnette before her saffron-colored gown, and when young Mr. North dared to ogle her through his quizzing glass, she ogled him right back through her glasses. He hurried off, cheeks pinking above his high shirt points.

  “I must get one of those,” Eva said.

  “It does come in handy,” Rosemary agreed, fingering the little square glasses. “And it’s useful for reading as well.”

  Eva laughed.

  She also danced nearly every set—with Lord Featherston, the Newcomers Mr. Donner and Mr. George, and Mr. Harris. She only wished James had been there to dance with her. She could imagine taking his hands, feeling his strength as he turned her. Standing out at the bottom of the set while he flashed her admiring looks. And perhaps, as they passed shoulder to shoulder, he might whisper something sweet that would bring a blush to her cheek.

  “Go fetch Miss Faraday refreshment,” Rosemary told Mr. Harris when he led Eva back to her side. “Can’t you see she’s overset?”

  That only made Eva blush all the more.

  ~~~

  James reached Grace-by-the-Sea as the sun was setting on Thursday. He’d accomplished most of what he’d intended in London, including leaving a copy of the cipher at the War Office. The clerk Quill had told him to approach would not allow him to speak to more senior staff and had been noncommittal about who would review the cipher. One thing he was clear on, however: James need not expect an answer or involve himself further in any way. So, James did not tell him Mr. Carroll was working on the piece as well. The War Office had the responsibility to safeguard England. It was still James’s job to safeguard Grace-by-the-Sea.

  As they reached the crossroads above the village, he directed Mr. Connors down the hill to the magistrate’s house. The coachman would have to unload his mother’s things before returning the carriage and horses up to the livery stable for keeping.

  James had tried to explain the situation to his mother on the way, but she had persisted in taking the earl’s side.

  “You mustn’t provoke him,” she’d said, hands worrying in her lap. “Your father always said so. You can be sure his father never provoked the previous earl. We owe the House of Howland everything.”

  “And that loyalty cost you everything,” James argued. “Your family, friends, even your position in the village when the ear
l forced you to move to London.”

  Her face puckered. “You never understood. I remember how you and your father fought over the matter. It grieves me to this day.”

  It grieved him too, but for an entirely different reason. He’d grown up seeing his maternal grandparents sitting across the aisle in services, watching his mother give them no more than a nod in greeting. He had been eight when he’d first run across the street after dark to see them. They’d welcomed him, encouraged him, but always sent him carefully home with a promise not to tell anyone where he’d been. Howlands were not to associate with Turpins. He’d been fifteen before he’d truly understood why.

  The earl was exerting his prowess, his position. His petty, cruel vengeance. From then on, it had been war.

  “I never wanted to hurt you, Mother,” James had said as the city had fallen away and they’d driven toward the shore. “But we cannot allow him to dictate our lives. Were you happy in London? Did you enjoy trying to meet her ladyship’s least whim?”

  “She isn’t so bad, most days,” his mother demurred, though she didn’t look at him as she said it. “And I have my own room.”

  “You’ll have your own room with Eva and me as well,” James told her. “And a great deal more freedom. We all will.”

  “But at what cost?” she protested. “It’s safer to acquiesce.”

  “I’m simply no longer willing to acquiesce,” James said.

  She’d turned her face to the view.

  Now she gazed out at the house she had once called home as the carriage drew up before the door. “We’ll lose this too, you know.”

  “I know,” James said. “But Eva has been looking for houses while I was away.”

  She sniffed. “Eva this and Eva that. It seems you’ve just exchanged one master for another.”

  He certainly hoped not.

  Eva must have heard the carriage pull up, for she was waiting just inside the door of the house. She dropped a deep curtsey as his mother came inside. “Mother Howland, welcome home.”