A Lady's Deception

by Pamela Mingle

  “But I did. I hired my cousin. By God, I’ll have his head if he shirked his duty last night.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Hugh said. “You’ll question him, Ned, and inform me.”

  After a cavernous yawn, Adam said, “What do we know?”

  “Not much, I’m afraid, except that the fire was started deliberately. The remnants of the torch the bastard used were found. We were damned lucky to have gotten the animals out.”

  “Nobody gave chase?”

  “They considered it, but thought it was more important to bring the horses out. I would have done the same.” Hugh had pieced together what happened based on various things he’d been told since last night. The men—the footman, groom, and a few laborers—had been playing cards in the tack room. One of them thought he’d seen a shadow, but nothing raised an alarm until they had smelled the unmistakable odor of burning hay. By the time they’d investigated, the flames were licking at the loft. One of the men hastened to alert the tenants, who’d come running with buckets. Soon, dozens of men from all around Haslemere had arrived to help, including most of those who had been at the ball.

  The stable was a complete loss. As were the cupboards, shelves, and moldings the carpenters had completed thus far, which had all been stored outside.

  “Do you have any enemies, Hugh?” Adam asked. “Any disgruntled workmen who might bear a grudge for one reason or another?”

  Hugh glanced at Ned. “Do we?”

  Ned didn’t answer immediately, taking some time to gather his thoughts. “There is the one fellow, Abbot, who can be surly at times and doesn’t mix with the others. But he seems harmless enough.”

  “Abbot.” Hugh rose and began pacing. “Good God, I forgot about him. He said something that upset Miss Broxton when she was visiting.”

  “What?” Ned said. Hugh hadn’t mentioned the incident to him.

  “Eleanor wouldn’t tell me, only that it was unfit for a lady’s ears. I wanted to sack him, but she asked me not to. She worried his family would suffer if he lost his employment.”

  Adam had produced a flask of brandy, and after taking a swig, passed it to Hugh. “That doesn’t explain why he would be nursing a grudge against you.”

  “When I noticed that Eleanor was upset, I ordered him back to work. But that was the end of it.”

  “Do you want to question him?” Ned asked.

  “Not yet, but let’s keep an eye on him. If he’s the perpetrator, he may decide to make more trouble. We might be able to catch him in the act.”

  Adam slowly rose. “I’m dead on my feet,” he said. “Ned, can I give you a ride to Town? Since the Broxtons conveyed Cass and Deborah home, I have the carriage.”

  “My thanks. I’ll return in the morning, Hugh.” It was the first time Ned had left off the honorific. Fighting the fire had been a bit like going through a battle together. Rank became insignificant.

  “Like hell you will. It’s nearly morning now. Take the day off and get some rest. You’ll need it in the days ahead.”

  When they were gone, Hugh stripped and crawled beneath the covers. How he wished Eleanor were there with him. He hadn’t had time to spare her a thought since he’d learned of the fire, but now he recalled her troubled countenance. She’d said she needed to see him. Damnation. He would find the time later today to pay her a visit.

  Sir William had worked alongside the other men most of the night, taking a position in the bucket brigade. To Hugh’s relief, Broxton had even offered to stable the horses. One less thing to worry about.

  He didn’t want to think about fire or destruction, or the close call with the house. So he pictured Eleanor. How elegant she’d looked at the ball, the way she’d felt in his arms. He wished he’d had that second dance with her.

  …

  The worst of Eleanor’s fears had been realized.

  After staying the night at her family home, she breakfasted early, before anybody else was up, and walked to her cottage. As soon as she entered, a note resting on the floor caught her eye. Obviously, it had been pushed under the door. Momentarily nonplussed, Eleanor calmed as she bent to pick it up. She’d expected it, after all.

  Unsure if her legs would support her, she sat down at the worktable to read the note. It was short and to the point: Things can get worse for our friend and for you. Fifty pounds would protect your secrets. Don’t be a fool about this. JA.

  For the present, she would ignore it. Abbot wasn’t likely to take any further action immediately. The man must be desperate to have committed such a heinous crime. Arson was a hanging offense. At the very least, it could mean imprisonment or transportation. And now she held the proof in her hand that he’d also committed blackmail. Abbot was unpredictable, and she must remove Lili from his home. She couldn’t risk his striking out at Hugh again, or someone else close to her.

  Eleanor considered whether she should speak to her father. She badly needed advice. Unfortunately, that meant telling him that Hugh was Lili’s father. Reluctantly, she concluded there was no good alternative, since Hugh would be occupied with cleaning up after the fire. That could take a few days. In the chaos, she doubted he even remembered she’d asked to see him after the ball.

  To her shame, she had brought calamity down on Hugh’s head. She was so grateful they’d been able to save his home. But according to her father, almost everything else was lost. She wanted to weep and pound her fists into something, but she couldn’t lose control. She must figure out what to do.

  A line from one of her favorite poems came to her: Oh what a tangled web we weave/When first we practice to deceive. By keeping Lili a secret, she’d woven a web of deceit, ensnaring both herself and Hugh. And now she must find a way out. She would. She had no choice. Her father would help her.

  Eleanor rose and began to set out the items they’d need for today’s sewing. The act of readying things soothed her. After a while, Bobby scratched at the door, and she paused to let him in. Stooping, she picked him up and cuddled him against her chest. He was her true friend, and she needed one right now.

  …

  Hugh had intended to sleep late, but he jolted awake after a few hours and was too restless to drift off again. He dressed in work clothes and ventured outside to view the damage in the clear light of day. Of course, Ned was already there. He’d brought coffee, pastries, and bacon, bless him. It was a fine thing to have a steward whose family owned the local tavern.

  “I recall telling you to take the day off,” Hugh said, eyeing Ned sardonically.

  “You tell me a lot of things, Sir Hugh.”

  Hugh laughed, but only briefly. He gulped black coffee as he gazed around the ruins of his stables. “Do you think there’s anything salvageable?”

  “Doesn’t appear to be, but I suppose we should sort through the mess to make sure. We have to get rid of it, anyway.”

  “Tell the men I’ll pay for new work clothes and whatever else they’ve lost. Shall we get started?”

  Using shovels, they worked for a long time, plunging through wet ashes and shards of wood and glass. They dumped most of it into carts to be hauled away. It was a filthy and unproductive effort, yielding little. Now and then, one of them would find an object that miraculously had survived the blaze. A piece of tack. A boot. A hammer. Small bits, such as buttons and buckles. Finally, Hugh called a halt.

  Motioning to Ned, he said, “Let’s eat the victuals you brought.” Earlier, he’d filled a jug with water from the well. After pouring some over his hands to get the soot and ash off, he drank his fill and passed it to Ned. They tucked into the apple puffs and bacon and drank the rest of the coffee.

  “What’s next?” Ned asked when they’d finished eating.

  Hugh wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then laughed at himself for doing it. “Have you checked with your cousin yet? Was he on duty last night?”

  “He was, but he neither saw nor heard anything. He left his post once, for a trip to the privy, and that may have provided just the
opportunity the perpetrator needed.”

  “Unfortunately, setting a fire doesn’t require a lot of time. Let’s set up a rotation for the men, myself included, beginning tonight. Shifts will start as soon as the workmen have left for the day.”

  “Do you reckon this Abbot fellow could have set the fire?”

  Hugh shrugged. “No idea, at this point. What would he gain by it? And if he were caught, he’d lose everything.”

  “No disrespect meant, sir, but might Abbot have a connection with Miss Broxton?”

  Without pausing to think, Hugh said, “No.” Quite firmly. Then, “I don’t know. I asked her, since she’d advocated for him pretty strongly. She denied it, and I don’t think she’d lie to me.” He must find the time to see her today. She’d said she wanted to tell him something—could it somehow relate to Abbot?

  Ned was trying to stifle a grin, but didn’t quite succeed. “You care for the lady, don’t you?”

  Hugh cracked his own grin. “I do. Very much.”

  “I know her only in passing, of course. People think a lot of her. Her father’s a force to be reckoned with,” Ned said, quirking his mouth. “But you’re likely in good standing with him because of your brother.”

  “Since the knighthood, I’ve risen in his estimation,” Hugh said wryly. “Eleanor and I are…close, but she’s a private person. I suspect she’s keeping something from me. Something significant.”

  “We all have our secrets, Hugh. A part we hold back from others.”

  “Yes, you’re probably right. But for Eleanor, it’s almost like a burden. One she would like to share, but can’t, for some reason.” Hugh was tempted to ask his friend what he knew about Eleanor during the time Hugh had been in Canada, but then thought better of it. He didn’t want Ned thinking Eleanor had done something wrong.

  “Do you love the lady, sir?”

  Hugh was surprised by the question, but found he didn’t mind Ned asking it. The man was his closest confidante right now. “I believe I do.” He laughed. “Rather desperately, actually.”

  “Then you should tell her so. And no matter what her secret is, her burden, it doesn’t matter and shouldn’t change your feelings.”

  Hugh felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. “How did you become so wise in matters of love, my friend?”

  Ned’s face turned crimson. “I have my regrets.”

  They resumed their work, and the other men joined them eventually. While he was shoveling enormous amounts of ash and rubble, Hugh thought over Ned’s advice. It made perfect sense and might represent the only way to win Eleanor’s heart. And he couldn’t imagine any secret she might be harboring that could possibly change how he felt about her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The evening after the ball, Eleanor dined with her parents. Unfortunately, there’d been no opportunity to speak with her father privately. After she refused her mother’s repeated requests that she stay at the house, her father insisted on walking her back to the cottage. But the hour was late, and she didn’t want to raise a topic that could conceivably take hours to discuss.

  After seeing her safely inside and helping light candles, he bid her good night. She felt a sudden burst of affection for him. Despite his deep disappointment in her when she’d confessed her pregnancy, he had stood by her. He could be gruff, too quick to judge, and sometimes provincial in his thinking, but never had she doubted her father’s love for her. It still saddened her to recall how he’d grieved for his nephew, Benedict, who had died during the Peninsular campaign.

  Eleanor glanced around the workroom, thought about straightening up, but quickly dismissed the idea. Whatever needed to be done could wait until morning. She made her way toward the back room, already tugging at her clothing. This room would always and forever remind her of Hugh. And with that thought, she sat down hard on the bed.

  As quickly as she’d sat, she leaped to her feet. Before she had a chance to rethink her decision, she would go to him. She would tell him he was the father of a delightful little girl named Lili, who resembled him, with her dark hair and eyes. If he never wished to see Eleanor again, so be it. She was tired of carrying this burden of secrecy, of lying to him. He had a right to know he was a father. If he wanted to be a part of Lili’s life, he would devise a way to prevent a scandal. Hugh would help to ease her financial worries, and his connection to Lili would protect her. They could raise their daughter together.

  Or not.

  There could be a much different outcome. Lifting her skirts as she hurried along the path, she made straight for Longmere and would not allow herself to consider what that outcome might be. If she did, she’d lose her courage, and it was past time she showed some. Night sounds surrounded her, but none that didn’t belong. She was cognizant of the fact that an arsonist had been prowling about last night, but her newfound resolve wouldn’t allow her to dwell on it. As she drew near Longmere, the acrid odor of smoke and burned wood pricked her senses. Where the stables had stood, an empty space now yawned. Rubble was strewn about. Eleanor’s guilt ratcheted up a few notches.

  What she hadn’t anticipated was someone standing guard. He called out to her. “Who’s there? Stop!”

  Drat! She recognized Ned Martin’s voice. Nothing to be done about it. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Ned, it’s Eleanor. I need to see Sir Hugh.”

  To his credit, he didn’t appear to be shocked. “Evening, Miss Broxton. I’ll get him for you.”

  She looked him in the eye. “No. If you don’t mind, I’d rather find him myself.” He stared at her a moment, as if she might be up to no good. Finally, he stood aside and gestured. “Go ahead, then. And mind your step in there, miss.”

  Thankful that Ned couldn’t see her flushed cheeks, Eleanor scurried past him and made her way in the dark toward the staircase. Hugh would be in his bedchamber. When she reached the gallery, she paused, listening. It was still and quiet, until she entered Hugh’s chamber. Then she heard the gentle susurrations of a slumbering man.

  Softly, Eleanor moved toward the bed until she could discern his sleeping form. He lay on his side, with one arm flung out. His chest was bare, and his thick, dark hair looked like an ink stain on his pillow. She lowered herself to the bed and gazed on him. He was at peace. Didn’t Hugh deserve to rest? To have an undisturbed night’s sleep after the horrors of the previous night? Her resolve began to slip away.

  And then his voice, low and menacing, startled her. “I know someone is there. If you value your life, you won’t move.” Eleanor nearly cried out in shock, but caught herself in time. “I’m going to slowly sit up, and then, whoever you are, you can explain what you’re doing in my bedchamber.”

  He’d lied. He didn’t move slowly at all, but lightning fast, and before she could say anything, Hugh was on her, tackling her. She hit the floor with a thud and an unladylike grunt. “Oomph!”

  Hugh’s big body covered hers. His big, naked body.

  Suddenly, he went completely still. “Eleanor? Is that you?”

  She couldn’t breathe and therefore could not answer. She nodded dumbly, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “Christ almighty! Have I hurt you? Of course I have.” He rolled off her, then helped her sit up. “What are you doing here? I thought you were an intruder.” He got to his feet. She hoped he intended to pull on his britches.

  Eleanor waited a moment before speaking. “I wanted to see you. About…something.”

  “Bloody hell,” Hugh said. “I completely forgot.” She glanced up at him, then looked away, embarrassed. He was aroused. Before she could object, he lifted her into his arms and sat down on the bed, holding her firmly on his lap.

  “Good God, Eleanor. I wanted you so badly last night. After the ball, I’d planned to bring you here and make love to you in this bed. But things didn’t go according to plan.”

  “Hugh, I can’t stay. Ned let me come in, and he’ll suspect something if I’m here too long.” His arms cocooning her made her wonder how she’d
lived without their strength for so long.

  “Ned will understand, and he would never give away our secrets.”

  Secrets. Hadn’t she rushed over here to give up her own? “Hugh, I—”

  “Shh. Make love to me, darling. Then we’ll talk, I promise. But let’s christen the new bed first. The new house.”

  He buried his face in her neck, kissing, nipping, gently sucking. She was weakening. When she lifted her head, he turned her face so that he could kiss her. Gradually, her body relaxed into his, and oh God, nothing had ever been so arousing, yet so infinitely tender as this kiss. Eleanor would willingly give him her deepest self and, in return, take whatever he offered. She wanted him to bring her from darkness to light, if only for these few precious moments. This might be the end. The last time they made love.

  And so she kissed him back, as though a kiss could be a panacea. As though their lovemaking could bring the peace and happiness she craved. Dragging her fingers through his silky hair, she murmured his name over and over. Hugh. Hugh. His hair smelled like soap and the out-of-doors. Feeling his thickness pressing into her, she shamelessly rubbed against it, making him gasp.

  Laughing softly, he whispered, “Minx.” He tugged at her bodice until her chemise was revealed, and then pushed the thin straps off her shoulders. “Ah. What have we here?” Eleanor was wearing short stays. They laced up the front and took no time at all to divest oneself of, or, in this case, for Hugh to do it. He threw the garment to the floor, and now her breasts were fully exposed to him, the cool air raising gooseflesh on her skin. “God, you’re so beautiful, Eleanor. As lovely as a Botticelli.”

  While he caressed her breasts, she threw her arms around him, stroking first his back and then his chest. In the darkness of the bedchamber, she could not see him well, but touching him, learning the shape of him, made up for it. By now, her breath was coming in short bursts. She ran her hands over each curve of sinew, each band of muscle, as though seeking the depth and breadth of him. Her fingers danced down his spine, and she felt him shiver. Sliding her hands around to his chest, she teased his nipples, just as he was doing to her.