by Joan Smith
“Esther, I’m sorry. Can’t we go somewhere to talk in private?”
“We are quite alone here,” she pointed out.
“It is not very intimate. The fact is, it is deuced lonesome for a young chap away from home. I daresay being in the navy didn’t help. One is considered less than a man if he hasn’t a woman in every port—not that I mean to imply I had! I want to settle down. That is one of the reasons I was so eager to have my sister with me. Cathy will be company, someone to talk to in the evenings—till I find a permanent companion.” His speaking blue eyes gazed meaningfully into hers. Seeing only anger, he changed tack. “You still haven’t given me a price on the inn.”
Though she didn’t reveal it, Esther was swayed by his long lashes and sincerity, and perhaps by a desire to sell her troublesome inn. Of course she was also in favor of reformation. “I’ll have to discuss it with my manager. We should do an inventory, I suppose.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I’ll be around all day, as Cathy is not well.”
“Did her woman not come with her?”
“Miss Vaughan will be joining us shortly. She didn’t feel up to the trip today. She’s had a bout of flu, poor thing. I hope Cathy hasn’t taken it.”
“How tiresome for her.”
“Yes, and she is elderly, too. It takes the oldsters a while to recover. I was just going to the lobby for a newspaper. Did Captain Johnnie play off any tricks while I was away?”
“We haven’t heard of any.”
“I thought that noble couple you mentioned—the Rotherhams, was it?—might have fallen victim. I assume they arrived safe and sound.”
“The Wrothams didn’t come after all. We received a cancelation in the afternoon,” she added vaguely.
“I didn’t like to say anything the other day, but it seemed ill-advised of you to mention their coming in such a public place.”
“You’re quite right. I’ll be more careful another time.”
Beau left to pick up the journals, and Esther went to her room. After fifteen minutes’ pacing, she was sympathetic to Lady Gloria’s views on living in an inn. She was bored to flinders in her room but disliked to loiter about the lobby or common room and had even less desire to play cards with the older ladies. She decided to discuss Fletcher’s offer to buy with Buck, but when she entered his office, he wasn’t there. The door leading to the wine cellars was ajar, and a dim light below told her someone was there.
Before there was time for an image of a masked highwayman to pop into her head, the reassuring echo of Buck’s voice came up the stairs. “Five hogsheads of the best sherry, about a thousand bottles of claret and port, and, of course, our house wine. We buy that from Wilbert’s in London. Would you like to try a glass?”
“Port’s my drink,” Mr. Fletcher’s voice replied.
Their footsteps receded into the farther reaches of the cellar, and Esther sat down to wait. Beau certainly wasn’t wasting any time beginning an inventory of her wine cellars. She picked a newspaper from Buck’s desk and glanced at it. He had drawn lines around a few notes in the social columns. The DeHavens were going to a houseparty at Harrington Hall. Lord Mundy was expected to arrive in London with his daughter, who would be making her bows.
Now why had Buck circled those items? Was it potential customers for her inn? Both would be passing the Lowden Arms, one from the east, one from the west. People were foolish to publish these announcements when the heath was so unsafe.
Esther knew a wine cellar was a place where bibulous gentlemen could happily spend an entire evening, and after a few moments she returned to her room with the newspaper. Her object was to read the estate advertisements and determine what price an establishment of her sort might hope to fetch on the market. She was pleasantly surprised to discover she was richer than she thought, or would be when and if she sold. It appeared that Mr. Fletcher, at least, was serious about buying.
He planned to continue running the establishment as an inn, and a part of the place’s value was its goodwill. Meecham, on the other hand, planned to make it his home and would not be willing to pay for any intangible asset. But as Josh was buying Pilchener’s, Meecham would presumably be staying there. His snooping had nothing to do with buying, but was only a stunt to familiarize himself with the various passages.
Inevitably she found herself thinking about Captain Johnnie—and Joshua—and Lady Margaret. When had this romance sprung up between them? Joshua often went to London on business. He might have been courting her for a year. The ball might be to announce their engagement, for all she knew. Anger stirred in her breast. As she sat, she mentally devised a costume for herself that would outdo Lady Margaret’s and that of any other fine lady who had set her cap at Joshua. The ball had a May Day theme. She would attend as Queen of the May, with flowers twined in her hair, and wearing a flowing white gown. She sketched it, and planned to purchase her material the next day.
For a week things went on quietly enough at the inn. The first priority was the writing and dispatching of the invitations. The ladies were busy with their costumes. Officer Clifford continued to haunt the passages, stopping frequently to quiz Esther about some detail. Captain Johnnie did not strike, though several lesser minions of the moon relieved passengers of their money and valuables.
Mr. Meecham hung on, often visiting Joshua for a day at a time. Miss Fletcher turned out to have suffered more than motion sickness. The girl had come down with a bad case of Miss Vaughan’s flu. Esther did not have to be hinted from the door. She had no wish to contract the ailment herself. Beau spent a good deal of time with Cathy, but it bothered Esther not a whit. She spent much time at Heath Abbey, consulting with the cook and housekeeper and gardener and Joshua about the ball.
As she was preparing to leave the Abbey one afternoon, Joshua met her in the garden. “I’m happy to see you’ve taken the reins of my ball, Esther,” he said. “I’m not much good at this sort of thing.”
“We want to impress Lady Margaret,” she replied, with a teasing sparkle in her eye. His self-conscious look told her what she was eager to know. There was something between them. Esther damped down her vexation and said, “Will you be announcing your betrothal?”
“Betrothal! It hasn’t gone that far.”
“How far has it gone?”
“Preliminary investigations only. What made you think I was going to offer for Lady Margaret?”
“Buck suggested it.”
Josh gave her a conning look. “I wonder why? Perhaps he dislikes your coming so often to visit me.”
“Why would he? I’m not abandoning my duties at the inn.”
“No, but you are abandoning him.”
Esther stared in amazement. “Are you suggesting there is something afoot between Buck and myself?”
“You two spend a deal of time together. You seem to get on pretty well. Buck has his fortune to be made. Marrying an heiress is one way to set about it. You are not completely without dowry. The fact that it is tied up in an inn would not distress him. He seems quite at home there.”
Laughter was the only possible reply to such an outré idea, and Esther laughed heartily. When she had stopped laughing, she said, “My funds may be freed sooner than you think. Mr. Fletcher is seriously interested in purchasing, unlike your Mr. Meecham. He hasn’t approached me at all.” And still, Joshua said not a word about purchasing Pilchener’s place.
“What did Fletcher offer?”
“We haven’t set a price. He spends considerable time with Buck, though, going over the inventory and so on.”
“Have you met this mysterious sister, Cathy?”
“No, she has the flu.”
“I hope she is recovered in time for the ball. You did invite Fletcher?”
“You gave me carte blanche. I asked him and his sister.” She peered for his reaction, which was mildly approving. “She must be improving. The doctor hasn’t visited for three days. I begin to think the girl is malingering. I hear her and Beau laughing and having a great
time in her room as I walk by. I mean to call on her tomorrow.”
“Let me know what she looks like,” Josh said.
“Beau calls her uncommonly pretty. I expect that is what you want to know.”
“But pretty in what style? Is she dark-complexioned like her brother, or a blonde? Beau is tall—I don’t like ladders of ladies.” He gave Esther’s diminutive frame a close scrutiny as he proffered this preference.
“I will be sure to let you know, Josh.”
“You do that.”
That evening Beau took dinner in the dining room and stopped at Esther’s table on his way out. “My sister is feeling better and asked me to invite you upstairs this evening.”
“I’ll make a short visit. I don’t want to tire her.”
“She is feeling much better. In fact, she speaks of taking a run into London tomorrow to hire a costume for the ball.”
Lady Brown’s eyebrows rose in shock. “Traveling so soon after an illness! Do you think that wise, Mr. Fletcher?”
“It’s not much of a journey, and my chaise is well sprung. I shan’t let her tire herself.”
“Surely there is something in the attics she could wear, Esther.”
“You are welcome to have a look, Beau,” Esther agreed.
“I’ll tell her.”
Before long Esther went tapping at Miss Fletcher’s door and was shown in by Beau. Her eyes flew to the chaise, where a bright-eyed young lady with blond curls and long-lashed blue eyes sat smiling shyly at her. Her face was angelic, with pretty dimples and white teeth. She had a coverlet drawn over her; beneath it she wore not a nightgown but a fashionable mulled muslin. She was not what Esther expected, somehow. There was none of the dash and charm of her brother. Other than the blue eyes, there wasn’t much similarity between them.
Beau introduced them and smiled as Esther welcomed his sister belatedly to the inn and inquired for her health. “I hope you are well enough to attend the ball on Friday,” she said.
“I never felt better. I could run a smock race if Beau would let me out of this room. He is taking me to London tomorrow to hire a costume for the masquerade. How are you going to the ball, Miss Lowden?”
They discussed costumes. Esther invited them both to ransack the attics, but it was soon clear that returning to London was what Cathy had in her heart. “It’s so exciting.” She smiled, eyes sparkling. “I never saw so many stores in my life, and with such lovely things in them.”
As she talked, she twisted her fingers in her hair, poked at her fingernails, rubbed her nose, and performed a dozen other ill-bred maneuvers. She was one of those vulgar girls who couldn’t be still a minute.
She hopped up from the chaise to show Miss Lowden some of her purchases. There were bonnets and shawls, patent slippers and gloves, bottles of perfume, fans, and ladies’ toys of all sorts. Shopping was obviously the girl’s passion, but soon Esther began to suspect there was another passion awaiting her in London.
“My Cathy tells me she has found herself a beau,” her brother said to Esther. “A captain of the Guards, if you please.”
“That was quick work!” Esther exclaimed. “You were only there for a few days, were you not?”
Cathy darted a guilty look at her brother, making Esther suspect the young man had been picked up in some unladylike manner.
“Captain Williams was a neighbor at home in Northumberland,” Beau explained. “It was not quite so unseemly as you are thinking, Esther. But you won’t have time to meet your captain when we go to London, Cathy. It will be just a quick trip to pick up your costume.”
Cathy wandered to the window, thence to the mirror to pat her curls. “And a new bonnet. You promised me a new bonnet, Beau,” she said over her shoulder.
“Indeed I did, and you shall have it. Perhaps you would accompany us, Esther?” he suggested.
A trip to London was always welcome, and with the ball approaching, Esther wanted a few frills for her own toilette. The live flowers for her costume would wilt uncommonly fast, and silk flowers were not available locally. “I shouldn’t mind going for a few hours,” she said.
They talked awhile and tried to become acquainted. Unfortunately the ladies had little in common. Cathy was not interested in books or local history or such ladylike occupations as painting, embroidery, or playing the piano. Cards were declared a “dead bore.” She inquired for the shops and asked whether there would be waltzing at the ball. She did a few waltz steps to show Esther she was familiar with the moves.
After a glass of wine and half an hour’s desultory talk, Esther escaped. “Let us meet early for breakfast downstairs tomorrow, Miss Fletcher,” she suggested.
“Better for Cathy to rest up for the trip, I think,” Beau decided, “She’ll dine here, and we’ll meet at ten.” Cathy gave an impatient pout and pulled at her curls.
Esther thought the girl’s restlessness might be due to her long incarceration in the room. Beau was overly cautious of her health. There didn’t seem to be a thing wrong with her but boredom. He escorted Esther to the door and thanked her for coming. She stopped off to visit Lady Gloria and her aunt to pass a little time. They were not playing cards that evening, but gossiping.
“It gave me quite a turn, I can tell you!” Lady Gloria was saying.
Esther clenched her jaw for the latest injury inflicted on her client. What was it this time? A fly in her soup, curdled cream, damp sheets?
The birdlike head turned to the door. “Ah, here she is now. I was just telling your aunt, Esther, that you have a stowaway in your attic. I was up looking for a costume—Mr. Ramsay gave me permission—and what did I see in the corner but a wad of old clothes made into a mattress, and a bottle of wine. In the corner beneath the east turret window. There were bread crumbs scattered about, too. That will encourage rats, my dear. I told Mr. Ramsay to clean it up.”
Esther stared in consternation. “In my attic? Who on earth could it have been?” she asked.
“Your manager thinks it was Captain Johnnie. Lud, to think of him being right above our heads, and none of us knowing a thing about it.”
“When did this happen?”
“Just before dark, dear. There was still twilight at the windows. Of course I wasn’t alone. One of the upstairs girls came with me. We had Mr. Ramsay up to look around. He’ll tell you all about it.”
“Why was I not called?”
“You were with Miss Fletcher. What is she like?”
“A pretty ninny,” Esther said, already opening the door. “Oh, incidentally, Auntie, I shall be going to London with them tomorrow. I want to pick up a few things for the ball.”
Making a grand appearance at the ball was of prime importance, and Lady Brown decided to permit the trip. “Oh, dear! Make sure you are back well before dark.”
Esther fled down to Buck’s office. “Buck, what is this about Captain Johnnie hiding in our attics?”
Buck shook his head and expelled air through his pursed lips. “Someone was there, no denying. He had himself a bed made up and two empty wine bottles on the floor. He must have made quite a stay of it.”
“Has anyone seen a stranger about the place?”
“We’re pretty busy today, but I haven’t seen anyone who wasn’t a bona fide guest. It wouldn’t be a registered guest. If the man had a room, why would he lie on rags in the attic?”
“I don’t know—perhaps ...”
“What?”
“The attic windows give a pretty good view. You can see the beginning of the heath. If someone was just entering—well, he could saddle up and overtake him, I suppose.”
“He wouldn’t leave evidence behind that he’d been there.”
“He might if he was in a hurry,” she suggested. “He could return later and hide the evidence.”
“It wouldn’t take a minute to shove the rags aside and toss the bottles behind a trunk. It wasn’t a regular guest. Someone just taking dinner, perhaps,” he said pensively.
“Bother, there were h
alf a dozen strange men at dinner. I think I should speak to Officer Clifford.”
“He’s gone back to London. Not for good, but he had some office work to do. He said he’d be returning tomorrow morning. But in any case I don’t think the man was there today. The bread crusts were dry. A pity none of us has been upstairs recently.”
“Your room is right next to the attic staircase. You didn’t hear anything?”
“No, but then I’m practically never in my room. Esther, don’t you think you and your aunt should return to the dower house? I don’t like to think of anything happening to you.”
There was a tinge of more than concern in his voice. Esther looked at him uncertainly. She remembered Joshua’s suggestion that Buck was dangling after her. “We’ll be fine,” she said, and walked away to the other side of the room.
Buck followed after her. His hand seized her elbow and turned her around. “No point taking chances. You have me here to take care of our inn.”
Our inn. The words struck her oddly. When had her inn become our inn? His hand slid down her arm, grabbing her fingers for a brief squeeze. “Do it, for me,” he urged.
She pulled her hand away. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now, more than ever, I must be here. I don’t want any calamity to befall when Fletcher is on the verge of an offer.”
“Eh?” he asked sharply. “Has he offered for you?"
“No, for the inn! He has not offered, but he is serious about buying it.”
“Oh,” he said sheepishly. “That gave me quite a turn. I will be out of a job when he takes over. At least he didn’t mention keeping me on. I didn’t ask outright. Not sure I’d like to work for him. I mean, it wouldn’t be the same as working for you. I fancy I’d just take off, perhaps go up to London to make my way there.”
Esther mistrusted that calf-like shine in his eyes. “Let’s go up to the attic and have a look around,” she said in a businesslike voice.
“I already checked it pretty thoroughly. Nothing there but the wine bottles and the pile of rags. Nothing to tell who was using them.”
For the first time since she opened the inn, Esther felt uncomfortable with Buck. She sensed something new in his manner and wondered if he was casting eyes in her direction. It was too ridiculous to consider. She was letting Josh put ideas in her head. She discussed only business during the rest of the meeting, asking him about the names circled in the newspaper.
