He broke off. The girl had flown at him and hit him. She would have hit him again, Theo thought as he rapidly buttoned his shirt, if Hewitt’s cronies hadn’t held her back.
‘You are a wicked, ignorant creature, Hewitt!’ she cried, still struggling. ‘And I’ve come here to tell you that you will not get away with it!’
‘Oh, I’ll deny everything, my pretty,’ Theo heard Hewitt say in a dangerous voice. ‘And now I’m going to show you what I think of you, givin’ yourself fancy airs...’
‘No! You’ll not touch me!’
But Hewitt was starting to take his coat off and his friends were gripping her more fiercely than ever, grinning.
Good God. The girl was about to be raped down there. Theo had pulled on his boots and was charging down the stairs and out into the yard. ‘Tell your men to get their hands off the girl, Hewitt,’ he breathed.
Hewitt’s men had already backed away. Hewitt was unrepentant. ‘She’s just asking for it, my lord! Was waitin’ here for me...’
‘Waiting for you to assault her? You think I’d believe that? Get out of here, yes, and the rest of you!’ Hewitt’s friends were already slinking away towards their tethered nags, but Hewitt was in a dangerous state of inebriation, Theo realised: angry, resentful and just beginning to wonder if he should stand up to his new master.
‘I mean it, Hewitt,’ went on Theo warningly. ‘I want you gone from this place, for good. I’m dismissing you as of now.’
‘You cannot do that!’ Hewitt’s eyes were ugly, his fists already clenching. ‘You fancy young lordling, you...’
Theo planted him a facer that sent him sprawling. By the time Hewitt had staggered to his feet, his friends had ridden off hastily into the blackness of the night. Hewitt, clutching his tender jaw, muttered, ‘My things...’
‘I’ll have them put them out in the yard,’ said Theo curtly. ‘You can come and collect them tomorrow. If you dare.’
As Theo watched Hewitt ride off he was breathing hard, mentally damning the man to hell and back. Then he realised that the girl was still there, watching him.
‘He fights dirty,’ she said tonelessly. ‘Beware.’
‘For God’s sake,’ said Theo irritably. ‘You don’t think I’m scared of him? But what were you doing here at this hour? No wonder you found yourself in trouble!’
‘I came here to find him because he’s burnt our house down.’ She stared up at Theo, her gaze defying him to doubt her.
‘He’s what?’
‘He set fire to it. I came to tell him I know it was him, though I don’t suppose anyone will take any notice.’
‘You’re sure it was him?’
She shrugged. ‘Who else? But I’ve no proof—he’s careful like that.’
Theo knew she was most likely right; it would be the devil of a job to prove it. At least some justice had been done in that the rogue had now lost his own home and livelihood. He said, ‘Listen. I know your mother was housekeeper here, to the old lord...’
He saw her tense again. ‘Who told you?’
‘Aggie. She said your mother was dismissed, when Lord Northcote died ten years ago. Surely Lady Hasledene wouldn’t have intended her to lose her job and her home?’
Jenna shrugged. ‘Lady Hasledene probably didn’t even know my mother existed. My mother was given her notice, and Hewitt took over.’
Her big coat had fallen apart and Theo was once more aware of the slenderness of her female form beneath her loose shirt and breeches. Of the way the dim lights from the windows fell on the pale curve of her cheek, the softness of her dark lashes...
Hewitt had muttered words to the effect that her mother was a whore and that Jenna was set to go the same way. Theo felt a sudden stab of interest and stifled it at birth.
She was clearly trouble. And it was damned cold out here, especially if your home had just burned down. ‘Where will you stay? Where will you live?’
‘My mother’s taken shelter with a neighbour.’
‘Did you walk here?’
‘Yes, and I’ll walk back.’ She was buttoning up her coat. ‘My mother will be waiting and worrying.’
Hardly surprising. Damn it, damn it, he didn’t come here to saddle himself with fresh problems... He said curtly, ‘Tell her I’ll find you both somewhere before I leave.’
Those eyes flew to his. ‘You’re leaving?’
‘Very soon, yes.’
‘Before Christmas?’
‘Most likely.’ Most definitely. ‘But you’ll be all right,’ he said.
She looked at him. As if to say, How on earth can you know that? Then she shrugged her shoulders again and walked off quickly into the night.
Damn. She shouldn’t be setting out there on her own, but clearly the last person she wanted was him! Suddenly Theo became aware that a young, strapping lad had just emerged from the house, looking anxious.
‘Rob?’ he asked sharply.
‘Aye, my lord. That’s me!’
‘Go after the girl, will you? See that she comes to no harm.’
Rob nodded, already hurrying off. Theo went up to his room. Her face, when he told her he was leaving...
Hell. Why should he feel guilty? A few days would give him enough time to put things to rights here—he’d already started, by sacking Hewitt! Christmas—they all went on about it, but Christmas for Theo was simply something to be got through as quickly as possible. It brought back far too many painful memories.
India, with Gilly, would have been a much better idea.
* * *
Jenna hurried home—home? she had no home!—feeling as if her world was collapsing around her. She’d known straight away Hewitt must have set fire to their house tonight to punish her for what she’d said about him, in front of Lord Dalbury. Frightened though she’d been, she knew she had to stay strong—men like him thrived on fear and she sensed that the best place to confront her enemy was at the Hall. For she’d foolishly harboured the faintest, just the faintest hope that perhaps things might be about to change. But, no.
Hewitt had been dismissed—but Lord Dalbury was leaving. And...she was being followed. She swung round, heart banging against her ribs. ‘Rob! Oh, Rob. Thank goodness it’s only you.’
‘His lordship sent me after you, Jenna!’ Rob was a friend—a playmate from her youth. ‘He was worried about you. He seems kind. P’raps things are going to get better for us all!’
‘How, Rob?’ She gazed at him in despair. ‘How, when he’s leaving?’
* * *
Her mother was waiting, tearful and afraid, in the thatched outhouse a neighbour had offered. Jenna soothed her. ‘Everything will be all right, Mama.’ Soon her mother was asleep, on the old straw mattress in the corner.
But Jenna was awake, her thoughts in raging turmoil. He was going—and in many ways he’d left them in a worse mess than ever. Because she’d just lost Hewitt his job and Hewitt would want revenge.
Chapter Four
What, in God’s name, was that? The next morning Theo rose abruptly from his bed and went to the window to haul back the ancient curtains. The church bells—half a mile away, but how the sound travelled out here!—were in full peal. It was Sunday and there was no way he was going to get a lie-in here.
He washed himself vigorously in cold water and wondered what Gilly and his other friends would be doing in London. They’d probably only just got to bed after a Saturday night spent roistering around London’s clubs.
‘Are you going to church, Lord Dalbury?’ asked Aggie timidly as she served him sizzling hot ham and eggs. ‘The neighbours will be eager to see you. Glad to see you.’
Not when they learn I’ll be turning my back on this crumbling old place just as soon as I can, thought Theo.
* * *
Rob had miraculously found Theo’s hired roan—it had turned up at a neighbouring farm—but Theo had decided to walk to the church to get the lie of the land and he slid into a back pew just as the first hymn was beginning.
; Was Jenna there? He found his eyes wandering during the service, but saw no sign of her. Having your house burned down wouldn’t, he supposed, encourage you to go and give thanks to God the next morning.
* * *
He didn’t linger after the final blessing but went out to wander around the ancient graveyard, where he found a memorial to Lord Northcote. Theo knew already that he’d never married, had no children or relatives other than his distant cousin Lady Hasledene. But... Theo drew closer, for he’d seen that a fresh wreath lay on his grave, of holly and ivy interlaced with winter jasmine. The delicate yellow flowers cast a sweet scent into the bleak winter air.
The congregation was starting to come out now and the vicar together with the more prosperous locals hurried to greet the new lord of Northcote Hall, while the poorer ones eyed him with wonder from afar. Suddenly he realised Jenna was there after all, emerging from the church with her mother. The likeness was unmistakable; she had the same proud carriage, the same high cheekbones as her daughter, though her skin was etched with fine lines of anxiety around her mouth and eyes.
Jenna was saying something to her, reassuring her. If Jenna had seen Theo, she didn’t betray it. In fact, she’d moved away to talk to a small group of women nearby. Her mother—the former housekeeper at Northcote Hall—stood steadfastly by the church wall, but she looked as if a strong wind would blow her away.
Theo found himself walking towards her. ‘I was sorry to hear about your house burning down,’ he said.
‘Lord Dalbury?’ Her face lit up. ‘You must be Lord Dalbury. My daughter told me you would help us—and she says you’ve got rid of Hewitt. I am so glad! He was such an evil man...’
She had a musical voice that was still coloured by her German origins. Theo wondered if Jenna had told her mother how the brute almost attacked her last night. He said, ‘I’m only sorry that Northcote Hall has been unvisited by its owner for so long.’
‘Since Lord Northcote died. But you have come to visit it already—that bodes well for its future, my lord!’
Jenna had come back and was helping her mother to fasten her mantle. ‘Lord Dalbury has to leave again very soon, Mama. His home is in London.’
Theo saw the sudden fading of hope in the woman’s eyes. ‘Before I go,’ he said, ‘I’ll find someone to replace Hewitt as steward, someone decent. And I’ll appoint an agent in Buxton to keep an eye on things.’
‘That is what Lady Hasledene did,’ Jenna informed him flatly. ‘The agent was a crook, hand-in-glove with Hewitt.’
Theo felt suddenly angry. What right did this poor country girl have to assume his negligence from the start? He said, ‘Well, I’ll see that things are done differently.’
‘You’ll have to arrange it all from London, though, since you’re leaving so soon.’
‘I’ll spend a few days looking round the estate,’ he answered coolly. ‘Tomorrow I was thinking of taking the gig around the tenant farms.’
A glance from her, some faint hint of amusement. ‘Are you quite sure you won’t get lost again, Lord Dalbury?’
‘Not if you come with me,’ said Theo.
Now, where the hell had that come from? He cursed himself inwardly; she was looking at him with startled surprise, and no wonder. ‘I mean it,’ he went on. ‘You can show me the way. And at the same time we could look for a suitable cottage for you and your mother.’
She hesitated, no doubt analysing his motives. Damn it, what were his motives? Well, it was useful that she seemed to know everyone and everything around here. And—he might be able to pay her. Yes, that was it. He would pay her, for her time...
‘Very well,’ she said at last.
He nodded. ‘Shall I pick you up here at the church, in the gig at noon tomorrow?’
‘If you like.’
He was aware of people watching him as he walked away. Speculating. Which they’d do even more, once he’d gone visiting the farms with her tomorrow... Damn. For all the good he’d be able to do here, he’d probably have been better off not coming at all.
* * *
The next morning Theo asked Aggie to show him round the Hall and he made a mental note of the repairs that needed doing. She didn’t show him the old turret, but when he mentioned it Aggie laughed dismissively. ‘You’ll find nothing of interest up there!’
Then he was diverted by Rob coming in to tell him he’d got the gig ready and Theo set off to pick Jenna up and make his tour of the Northcote estate.
* * *
There were five farms altogether, and as they approached each one, Jenna told him about the families who lived there, and how Hewitt had wronged them.
‘Hewitt always raised the rents twice a year or more,’ Jenna explained without expression. ‘And he bought the farmers’ crops at low prices then sold them on for more than twice the cost, keeping the profit. Once he took on Farmer Fairlie’s daughter as maid at the Hall, and tried to—’
‘I get the picture,’ said Theo grimly.
‘I hope so, my lord,’ she replied calmly.
The farmers all looked delighted to see Theo and their faces brightened even more when they heard Hewitt had gone.
‘Amen to that!’ said one stout farmer’s wife. ‘So you’ll be takin’ over the running of it all, my lord?’
They looked at him hopefully.
Jenna said, in her clear, steady voice, ‘Unfortunately Lord Dalbury has to return to London almost immediately.’
‘But you’ll stay for Christmas?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Theo replied.
Their faces fell.
Theo noticed that they all knew Jenna and she them. They’d heard about her cottage catching fire and muttered darkly about who was to blame. Sometimes children would come hurrying out to greet the gig as it rolled into the farmyards and he thought he recognised some small faces from the holly procession. From Hob Hurst’s Gate, he remembered.
* * *
‘Who is Hob Hurst?’ he asked Jenna as they drove away from the last farm. By now the sun was beginning to set and a chill wind blew from the east.
‘Hob Hurst? It’s the locals’ name for a mischievous goblin. As Hewitt said, the people round here are all rather pagan at heart.’ She was pointing into the distance. ‘Look, you can see it from here. That pile of rocks up on the western ridge is Hob Hurst’s House. And Hob Hurst’s Gate is in the field below, where in spring hiring fairs are held.’
‘Hiring fairs?’
‘That’s when the farmers take on labourers for the season. Hob is supposed to help with the work around the farms by night, when everyone is asleep...’ She glanced at him sideways. ‘No doubt you’ll find our country ways primitive, my lord. When you get back to London you’ll be able to entertain your friends with them.’
The hint of challenge in her steady gaze sent warning signals racing through his blood. Damn it. This country air must be doing something to his wits. He was actually finding this wench alluring, with her full lips and soft skin...
‘I doubt my friends would be interested in Derbyshire customs,’ he said coolly. Why was he feeling so ridiculously guilty about leaving this place? For God’s sake, he couldn’t wait to see the back of it!
Though he was, he acknowledged, just a little sorry to be seeing the back of Miss Jenna Brook.
Suddenly he exclaimed, ‘A cottage. We haven’t found one yet, for you and your mother...’
‘Pray don’t trouble yourself, Lord Dalbury,’ she said stiffly. ‘We’ll find somewhere.’
‘At least you must allow me to pay you for your time today!’
Silence. The faint colour rising in her cheeks told Theo he’d made another blunder.
She said, ‘Will you stop the gig, please?’
‘What?’
‘I said, will you stop? And—I do not require any payment, thank you!’
He hauled on the reins; she was already getting down, in a huff, damn it, thought Theo. ‘But you need whatever you can get, surely? Aggie told me that you had
a smallholding and your mother earned a little money for her needlework. But you lost everything in the fire... How are you going to live, now?’
Standing at the side of the gig, she looked up at him and said, ‘Let me put it this way, my lord. If you hadn’t deigned to come here you wouldn’t even know of our existence, let alone our plight. So let me venture to suggest that you return to London and resume your state of blissful ignorance—so much easier for you, Lord Dalbury!’
Theo said, ‘God damn it, you can’t walk all the way. It must be at least a mile...’
‘Oh, I much prefer to walk!’ she said sweetly. And she set off down the track, her pert behind swaying enticingly.
Was it deliberate? Hardly. She’d certainly made it plain what she thought of him.
Damn it, swore Theo in exasperation.
* * *
It was Theo’s intention to write up everything he’d learned about the farms before his evening meal, but Aggie was on him almost immediately to say there was a message—a letter—waiting for him. She handed it to him with floury fingers; he opened it with a slight frown.
He read it once, twice, then a third time. It was from Lady Celia’s mother.
My dear Lord Dalbury, We have been invited by his Grace the Duke of Devonshire to Chatsworth House for the approaching seasonal festivities—and since we realise your own Northcote Hall is a mere seven miles distant, we are on pins to pay you an afternoon visit on our way to the dear Duke’s abode...
Theo couldn’t believe it.
We will arrive, went on Celia’s mother, on the 24th at around midday, and later that afternoon we shall travel on to Chatsworth. Oh, and we will have friends with us...
Theo clutched his head. Celia’s mother had boasted often about some connection with the Devonshires, but he’d ignored her.
Hell’s teeth. To evade them once—as he had in London—might pass as a mischance. To evade them twice would look downright devious, and besides, any letter he sent now might not reach them in time. Today was the nineteenth of December. He had no choice but to stay on for a few days in this godforsaken place—but how was he going to manage, with no staff except Aggie and her son?
Snowbound Wedding Wishes: An Earl Beneath the MistletoeTwelfth Night ProposalChristmas at Oakhurst Manor (Harlequin Historical) Page 12
