by Byrnes, Tess
“Rupert,” Hugh approached the young man, and put an arm around Rupert’s shoulders, drawing him inexorably into the room. “Please let me make you known to Mr. and Mrs. Riding, and their daughter, Miss Clarissa Riding. The Honourable Rupert Denham.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Rupert bowed again. As the full impact of Clarissa’s beauty struck him, he crossed the room to take her hand and execute a graceful bow. “How do you do, Miss Riding.”
“How do you do, sir,” Clarissa dimpled enchantingly, a rosy flush rising to her cheeks.
A maid entered the room with a tea-tray, and Rupert, after handing a cup of tea to Clarissa, accepted a cup for himself, and settled himself beside the blonde beauty, an infatuated smile upon his handsome face. Mr. and Mrs. Riding were not pleased with this arrangement, but short of pulling him away and ensconcing the Earl in his place, had no option except to engage the Earl in conversation.
“I say, Hugh,” Rupert interrupted their desultory conversation a moment later. “Miss Riding says she would love to go for a ride. Do you mind if I steal her from you for a bit?” He smiled engagingly at the Ridings. “You won’t object to her accompanying me, will you? We’ll stay within the immediate grounds of the Castle, of course.”
Mrs. Riding bit her lip. This was definitely not what she wanted. However, this young friend of the Earl was expensively dressed, and she had not missed the large emerald ring on his finger. Mrs. Riding had an almost perfect knowledge of all the eligible young men in London, and as far as she could remember, Rupert Denham could be at best the younger son of the Viscount Denham. As she could not think of any reasonable reason to say no, Mrs. Riding nodded her acquiescence, earning a glowing smile from Rupert.
Hugh gave a discrete sigh of relief. He stood as Clarissa left the room to go don her riding dress. “Let me just go give instructions to my groom,” he said, excusing himself. “There are only a few of my horses that are used to side-saddle, but I can mount your daughter on a safe ride, one of my mother’s favorites and a very sweet goer. Rupert, you of course, may have your pick of any of my stable.”
Hugh left the room, and walked slowly out to the stable. The arrival of the Ridings was a complication he did not want. His existence was complicated enough right now. He raked his fingers through his hair, then rubbed his eyes. What on earth was he doing? he asked himself sternly. Sarah Denham was a genteel young woman, with whom he had no business carrying on a dalliance, if that’s what it was. A vision of Sally as she had looked this morning drifted before his eyes; the smile on her face sated and happy, her soft skin pale and creamy. No, he could not regret it. But never before had he indulged in a tryst with a woman of quality. He remembered her response to his attempts to hold back, the passion that had lit her eyes, the response to each other’s proximity that had made resistance futile. He knew a strong urge to return to Whitethorne cottage. His departure had been rushed because of the return of Sally’s maid, and he had had no opportunity to discuss their situation. What were Sally’s feelings, he wondered, after making love with him? Was she having second thoughts? Regrets? Or was she as caught up in the wonder of it as he was, and eager to repeat their reprehensible behavior?
He was smiling as he entered the stables, walking between the loose boxes, most of them inhabited by his string of hunters. He inhaled the familiar smell of hay, and the oil used to keep the tackle in good order. Rufus, sensing his master’s approach, shoved his nose over the door of his box, and whinnied. Hugh patted the satin-smooth nose, and smiled. “Sorry, boy. I’m not dressed to ride.” He found the groom and gave orders for horses to be saddled for Rupert and Clarissa, and as he turned to leave, almost ran into that pair.
“I’ve had Squirrel saddled for you, Miss Riding,” Hugh greeted her. “She’s a lovely mare that used to belong to my mother. I think you’ll find her a very well-mannered girl.”
“Thank you, your lordship,” Clarissa smiled. The sunlight streaming in picked out the gold in her hair, and with her enchanting face, and the tight-fitting riding habit that showed off her alluring shape to advantage, Hugh remembered exactly why he had been so enamoured of her. There was no denying that the girl was an unparalleled beauty. He glanced over at Rupert, who was staring at Miss Riding with an infatuated expression on his face.
“I hope you two will enjoy your ride today,” he commented. “A proper ride is not an indulgence you get in London, is it Miss Riding?”
“Well, there is the park,” Clarissa reminded him, regarding him from well-opened green eyes.
“True, but one cannot indulge in a good gallop there,” Hugh reminded her. “At least not without raising a few eyebrows.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” she dimpled captivatingly. “You are very right, my lord.”
“Do you ever cause the censorious to raise an eyebrow, Miss Riding?” Hugh teased.
“Oh, no,” Clarissa assured him.
Hugh smiled at her, and realized that she was probably right. Clarissa Riding was a very correctly brought-up young lady. He looked at Rupert, who still was regarding the beautiful blonde with a foolish smile on his face.
Hugh clapped him on the shoulder, shaking him out of his reverie. “You shall ride Pepper, Rupert,” he informed him. “He’ll be a bit fresh, so mind him.”
“Er, thanks, Hugh,” Rupert stuttered. “Miss Riding?” He took her arm, and led her over to the mounting block. Hugh left the stable for his library, and some very neglected estate business. As his boots crunched on the gravel drive that took him back up to the Castle, the image of an impish red-haired girl had already replaced that of the golden beauty.
Rupert led the way from the stable, watching closely to make sure that Miss Riding could handle the lovely white mare she had been mounted upon. The mare was fresh, but gentle, and Clarissa had been very well taught, and was able to handle the horse easily. Rupert relaxed, and prepared to enjoy the company of a beautiful girl and a sunny spring day. The two horses fell into an easy side-by-side walk, and Rupert wracked his mind for a conversational gambit.
“Have you been to Scotland before, Miss Riding,” he asked.
“I have not. I don’t really like the country,” she confided. “I prefer the city. There is so much more to do there. Balls, the theater, and there are always friend to visit.”
“I feel the say way,” Rupert marveled, conveniently forgetting that when in London he missed Denham Park daily. “And are you returning to London soon, Miss Riding? The Season will still be in full swing for another few months. I, myself, will be leaving for the city in a few days. I do hope you will be there too, Miss Riding.”
Clarissa bestowed a glowing smile on him. “I hope so, too.” With the admiring smile on his handsome face, Rupert really did appeal to Clarissa. She had always preferred fair men, and although she did not want to contradict her mother, she did not find the Earl to be the most handsome man she had ever met. His hair was dark, and he was always saying things that she didn’t perfectly understand. Rupert, with his handsome profile, and his curling blonde locks really was very appealing, and Clarissa smiled at him modestly.
“Really? Then I may call on you, when we are both back in London?” he demanded eagerly.
“Certainly, that would be lovely,” Clarissa assured him. “Only, I ought not to say anything, but it’s possible, that is,” her voice trailed off uncomfortably.
Rupert looked grim. “I see. You may be getting engaged, is that it? Dash it, Miss Riding! You do not give me a fair chance! I have only just met you.”
Clarissa’s lovely face looked troubled. “I’m sorry. I should not have spoken. Nothing has been said, you know. Let us just enjoy our ride.”
They urged their horses into a canter, and very shortly they were approaching the edge of the moors. The heather seemed to have burst into bloom around them in the early spring warmth, and the heady scent floated on the wind.
“Here’s our chance for a gallop,” Rupert called to Clarissa. “Shall we?”
&nbs
p; Miss Riding threw a saucy look over her shoulder. “I’ll beat you to that tree!”
“We’ll see about that!” Rupert grinned, kicking his horse into a gallop. Clarissa squealed and raced after him, her habit flying, a lovely flush on her face.
From her vantage spot on a rise by the caves, Sally observed these proceedings with a censorious expression on her face. She had waited almost an hour beyond their appointed rendezvous time with no sign of her brother, and now he had arrived in the company of this astonishingly lovely, young girl. The identity of the girl was a mystery, as was the reason that her brother would think to bring her to their assignation. The most likely reason, Sally thought disgustedly, was that Rupert had completely forgotten about their appointed meeting. She watched the two riders as they reached the far tree, and pulled their horses up. They appeared to be laughing, without a care in the world to Sally’s critical eye. She shook her head, the look on her face darkening further. Who was that beautiful girl, she wondered? Was she a guest at the Castle, or maybe a neighbor of the Earl’s?
The thought bothered Sally more than it should. She had no claim on the Earl, and if he chose to have beautiful blonde girls on his estate, that was his business. For all Sally cared, he could have hundreds of them. She watched as Rupert and his companion turned their horses and began trotting back to their starting point, and Sally realized that the girl had an acceptable seat, even if she was pulling at the mare’s mouth in a very odd way. Sally turned her horse away, resolutely banishing these thoughts. The question of how to get in touch with the carrier’s lad was the prime issue at hand, and it must take precedence over anything else. Rupert would appear to have completely forgotten his appointed meeting with his sister. She should have known better than to employ her thoughtless brother in such an important endeavor. She would just have to figure out a way to get the information she needed herself, she resolved, and urged Beauty into a trot, heading back towards Whitethorne cottage.
When Sally arrived back at the homely cottage, she handed Beauty over to Miles, and entered the cottage through the kitchen door. Bridget looked up eagerly.
“Well, Miss?” she asked. “Was your brother able to find out where my Robbie is?
Sally hated to be the bearer of bad tidings, but felt that it was best to be truthful. “I’m so sorry Bridget,” she said, dropping a hand onto the girl’s shoulder. “I wasn’t able to talk to him. But that doesn’t mean that he was unsuccessful. We might just have to wait for him to get in touch with us.”
Bridget sat up straighter in her chair, and smiled bravely. “Not to worry, Miss. I know I’ll find my Robbie.”
“Yes, but how?’ Sally muttered. “If only I could figure out a better way to get access to the Castle. Rupert was never a good conspirator.” She sat down next to Bridget, and accepted a cup of tea from her. “Bridget, do you know who a very beautiful girl with blonde hair might be?”
“No, Miss.” Bridget shook her head. “Did you see such a girl?”
“Yes,” Sally replied with something close to a huff. “Rupert was riding with her. I wondered if she could be a neighbor of the Earl’s or something.”
“I don’t think so, Miss,” Bridget considered. “Was she gentry?”
“Looked like it. She had on a very nice riding habit and was riding a lovely white mare.”
“That’ll be Squirrel, which was the Earl’s mama’s favorite horse. Most likely that girl is visiting the Laird, miss,” Bridget decided. “That would explain him being here in the middle of the Season. Usually we don’t see the Laird at the Castle from January until May or June. Mrs. Cameron was that surprised when he arrived with no warning at all. She was most put out because she goes down to a skeleton staff in winter.”
“Never mind,” Sally said with determination. “Still, it’s a nuisance, since she seems to have distracted Rupert from his purpose. I must think of another way to get into the Castle, but how?”
“It’s a shame you’re not a maid, Miss. If there are visitors at the Castle, and Mrs. Cameron is down a maid, having let me go, she must be looking to take on another girl.”
Sally looked at Bridget with an expression of dawning wonder. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “You are a genius, Bridget. Stand up,” she ordered, pulling Bridget to her feet. “You are several inches shorter than me, but otherwise we’re much of a size.” Sally dropped to her knees, and turned up the hem of Bridget’s black dress. “Plenty of material here to let down.”
“What are you thinking, Miss?” Bridget asked with a suspicious look on her face.
“I am going to put on your maid’s dress, and present myself at the Castle as a would-be house maid. I’ll ask to see the housekeeper, and I am sure that I will have plenty of time to talk to some of the maids, or the cook. You said the cook was friendly to you, right? And I will give them instructions for Robbie to come to Whitethorne cottage without fail on his next trip to Castle Kane.”
“You’re never going to be a maid up at the Castle?” Bridget was horrified. “You have to get up at five o’clock in the morning, and work all day, and you only get a half day on Wednesdays. Besides, you don’t sound like a maid. You sound like the Quality, Miss.”
Sally laughed. “I’m not going to actually be a maid, I’m just going to ask for the position. I have no references or experience. Mrs. Cameron will not possibly hire me, but it will get me into the Castle, and put me in the servant’s quarter. From there I cannot fail to find out when Robbie will be coming back, or at the very least, the carrier’s address in London. Come, Bridget, it’s worth a try.”
“You are too good to me, Miss,” Bridget smiled through sudden tears. “That you would do that for me!”
“I recommend that you save your thanks until we find out if I am successful,” Sally hugged her. “Now, out of that dress, and let’s see if Millie can drop the hem a few inches.
Chapter Thirteen
Miles tooled the little gig up the avenue that led to the Castle. Sally sat beside him, clad in Bridget’s black stuff dress. Millie had let down the hem, but under vociferous protest. She had argued vehemently that if anyone should go up to the Castle as a maid it should be herself. But Millie had eventually bowed to Bridget’s argument that Mrs. Cameron was unlikely to hire a housemaid who had grey hair. Millie had sniffed, but acknowledged that her age was probably a barrier to success, and Sally had twisted her own red-gold hair into a tight knot at the back of her head and donned Bridget’s black dress and a pair of black boots. She fancied she looked every inch the correct upper house maid, and as Miles pulled up at the back of the Castle, she hopped down.
“Please wait for me here, Miles,” she smiled up at him. “I hope I won’t make you wait too long.”
“I wish you would re-think this, Miss Sally,” Miles urged in a pessimistic tone.
“What could possibly go wrong?” Sally demanded, bracingly.
“I’m not sure,” Miles admitted. “But I have a very bad feeling that we’re about to find out.”
“Nonsense,” Sally exclaimed. She ran lightly over to the back entrance. The door stood open, and she peered in to a bustling kitchen. A large woman wearing a striped apron was stirring a steaming pot over the most enormous oven that Sally had ever seen. A young maid was chopping up vegetables at a big wooden table, and an older gentleman, who looked to Sally as if he must be the butler, was polishing a number of silver serving dishes.
“Excuse me,” Sally said, entering into the steamy warmth of the kitchen.
“What do you want,” the cook at the oven called over. She did not sound very welcoming, but Sally ventured a little farther into the room anyway. The young maid had stopped chopping her vegetables and was staring at Sally, and the butler had stood up and was slipping his coat back on.
“Well?” he intoned.
Sally’s mouth suddenly felt dry and for the first time she entertained a doubt about the wisdom of this plan. The cook was looking at her suspiciously, and the butler seemed very intimidating,
as all the best butlers were wont to do. But she remembered that Bridget was counting on her to locate the carrier’s lad, and she stiffened her spine.
“I am looking for work,” she said, hoping that she was giving the impression of a capable maid in need of a position. “I heard in the village that you might be needing a maid, and so I came to enquire.” She hoped that she sounded like the maids at Denham Park and smiled hopefully at the trio before her.
The cook’s expression softened, and the butler shrugged his coat back off, sat down, and resumed his polishing.
“You’ll be wanting to talk to Mrs. Cameron, then,” the cook returned to her pot. “Have a seat. Mary, get her a cup of tea.”
The girl who had been chopping vegetables dropped her knife and went to pick up the teapot. “Yes, Mrs. White.”
Sally let out a small sigh. First barrier surmounted. She took a seat at the long wooden table, and accepted a cup of lukewarm tea from Mary. “Thank you. When do you think it would it be convenient for me to talk to Mrs. Cameron?”
“Eh, but she’s that busy,” Mary said. “There’s company from London, and none of us expecting it. A handsome young lord and then an older couple from London, and their daughter. She’s a most beautiful girl,” she confided with wide eyes.
“Now that will do with the gossip,” Mrs. White reprimanded sharply. “You get back to those vegetables, Mary. We’ve only two hours more before dinner, and we will not be putting an ill-cooked meal in front of any guests of the Laird’s.”
“A most beautiful girl,” Sally muttered to herself in a mocking tone.
“Mary, why don’t you run and see if Mrs. Cameron is free,” Mrs. White recommended. She set a lid onto the pot she had been stirring, and came to sit beside Sally, bringing a cup of tea with her. “I could use a bit of sit down, anyway.”
