by Laura Landon
“Good morning, my dear,” Radburn said, rising to his feet.
“Good morning, my lord. Reginald.”
“Good morning, Millicent,” Barnaby said as he rose to greet her. “You’re up early this morning.”
“It’s such a glorious day, I couldn’t bear to miss a minute of it,” she said as she allowed Radburn to seat her.
“Is that a hint that you’d like to go for a jaunt this morning?” Barnaby asked.
Millicent caught Barnaby’s look of approval. “Oh, what a magnificent idea.” She tried to sound as innocent as possible, but wasn’t sure she managed. She turned her focus on Radburn. “Do you have time to accompany us?”
Millicent knew he didn’t. She’d overheard him tell his butler that there was to be a meeting with his stewards this morning concerning the estate.
“I’m afraid I have important business I must take care of later on. Would you mind if I sent one of my men to accompany you?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Radburn,” Barnaby offered. “I’d like nothing more than to show my cousin some of the beautiful spots I’ve come upon on my rides.”
Radburn hesitated as if Barnaby’s suggestion didn’t quite meet with his approval. But Millicent stopped any further comments.
“That would be perfect,” Millicent said. “It will give Reggie and I time to reminisce about some of the things we did as children.”
“If you’re sure,” Radburn said.
“Oh yes. Spending a few hours with my cousin sounds ideal.”
Radburn resumed eating what was left on his plate. “I have a surprise I was going to tell you about later this morning, but since you won’t be here, I’ll tell you now.” He placed his fork on his plate and took a sip of coffee. “I intend to host a dinner tomorrow night. The purpose is twofold: to become acquainted with our neighbors, and to announce our engagement to anyone who has not yet heard our news.”
Millicent couldn’t hide her surprise. It wasn’t that she was averse to the idea of a dinner. This is where she’d grown up. She’d known the people in the area her whole life and was friends with many of them. But she wasn’t anxious to see the disapproving looks on their faces. Some of them had no doubt heard of her father’s disapproval of Radburn, and they would look on her engagement as a betrayal of what her father wished for her.
Her father had been close friends with Baron Barclay and the Earl of Timblin. He’d also been especially close with Reverend Winters. She couldn’t imagine that he hadn’t discussed his concerns with them. The thought of facing her father’s allies caused her stomach to churn uncomfortably.
She doubted she could make many of them, especially those close to her father, believe that marrying Radburn was a wise thing to do. Or that she was doing it of her own free will.
“I know you are familiar with the people who live here, but I am not. It will be the perfect opportunity for me to get to know my neighbors,” he added.
“Yes, it will,” Millicent said, trying to sound sincere. “It’s a wonderful idea. I look forward to seeing everyone again.”
Her statement seemed to be the one Radburn wanted to hear, and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Unfortunately, that smile only sharpened the steel gray of his cold eyes, and made his icy glare more threatening. If only she didn’t know how evil he could be—how cruel—she might have believed he contained a hint of compassion. But clearly it was a deception.
She clutched her hands in her lap and prayed the loathing she felt for him didn’t show in her eyes. “A dinner will give everyone a chance to meet Reggie,” she added. “I doubt anyone has met him before.”
“Then I will especially look forward to it,” Radburn said, picking up his fork again.
When they finished eating, Radburn excused himself to go to his study, and Millicent and Barnaby stepped out into the bright sunshine to their waiting carriage.
“Is there anywhere special you wish to go?” she asked. Barnaby had taken the reins and turned the carriage in the direction of the cliffs.
“Yes. To the monument Radburn erected for your family.” He turned so their gazes met. “Do you mind?”
“No. But I have a feeling that we aren’t going there because you think I’d like to return when I won’t be so emotional.”
“It was a shock, wasn’t it?”
Millicent nodded. “Yes. Especially seeing their names written on the markers. All of them. It made their absence so final. A stark reminder that I’ll never see them again.”
His compassion for her was impossible to miss. “We can go a different direction, if you’d like.”
“No. I need to go back. But why do you want to return?”
Furrows deepened across his brow. “Just something that’s bothered me since Radburn took us there the first time.”
“What?”
“If you were going to erect a monument so your future wife could go there when she felt a need to be close to her family, why would you place it on the cliffs above the cove? Wouldn’t you put it close enough to the manor house that it would be in easy walking distance for her?”
“Yes, I suppose I would,” Millicent answered. She hadn’t thought of that. She’d been so overcome with emotion that she hadn’t thought of anything except the stunning revelation that he’d do something so considerate for her.
“Instead, the site is at least a twenty-minute walk from the manor house. On one of the most barren spots on Westview Park.”
“That is strange, isn’t it?”
“We’ll see soon enough. We’re almost there.”
Millicent looked ahead and saw the top of the huge stone marker and prepared herself for the pain. She pulled her eyes from the scene and turned her face to the sea and then to the south to get the full warmth of the sun. She was about to turn when her eye was drawn to a familiar sight.
Millicent grasped Barnaby’s arm as he stilled the horses. “Barnaby! I know why he put the monument here! Look!”
Barnaby turned to follow where she was pointing. About a hundred yards beyond the memorial garden was a rather large cairn of rocks.
“Don’t you see?” she cried. “It’s Cliffside! That pile of rock marks the beginning of my father’s land.” She smiled. “Oh, Barnaby, that’s why he did it. He put it here because it’s close to my home. I could visit the garden and look up to see Cliffside. How very kind!” Her hand fluttered to cover her trembling lips.
Barnaby sat quietly, letting Millicent revel in her discovery. She was right. Radburn had chosen this spot purposefully because it was close to Cliffside. But Barnaby doubted that Radburn’s reasoning had anything at all to do with kindness.
He drew the carriage closer to the front of the wrought iron gate and helped Millicent to the ground. As they walked down the path together, he rested a hand at her waist, and she took comfort in his nearness.
“Are you all right?”
Millicent smiled. She had never known it was possible to feel so comfortable with anyone. Especially someone of the opposite gender. “I’m fine. I’m sure it will always hurt when I see their names like this, but as time goes by, it will hurt less.”
He pulled her close in a gentle caress. When they reached the site, he released her.
Millicent stood before the massive stone for several long seconds as memories of her mother and father washed over her. Next, she moved to the markers of her older brother and younger sister. Thomas would have reached his majority last year. He would have inherited the Renfrew title. Instead, his life had been cut short.
Polly would be twelve now. She would be dreaming of having her Season in a few years. Of meeting the man of her dreams. Now those dreams would never become a reality.
She knelt on the ground between Thomas’s and Polly’s markers. As she had the other day, she ran her hands over their names, tracing them with her finger to etch them in her memory. She dropped her hands to her sides and touched the thick grass on either side of her.
She knew they we
ren’t really buried there. Their true graves were at Renfrew Manor. This was just a place she could come to visit when she felt the need to be close to her family.
She rubbed her hands over the lush grass that covered the place where their caskets would lie if they had been there.
She wasn’t sure why she noticed. There wasn’t a visible difference between the two places—it was more a difference in the feel of the two.
She compared the two again, then looked up. Barnaby was investigating the side of the massive marker that held their family surname.
“Barnaby?”
He walked toward her.
“Place your hands on the grass here and here,” she said, lifting her hands to indicate where she wanted him to touch. She rose to give him room.
He knelt where she’d been, then placed his hands on the grass atop Thomas’s false resting place. Then, he placed his hand over the space that would have been Polly’s.
She knew the exact moment he felt the difference. Noticed his expression change. Saw the furrows deepen across his forehead. Watched him lift his hand and place it back on the ground. He pounded the earth several times in several different places, then pushed his index finger through the grass as far as he could go.
“What did you find?” she asked when he lifted his gaze.
“A wooden door, I think. I’ll have to investigate further before I’ll know for sure.”
“Are you going to do that now?”
He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Someone might be watching us.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll come back tonight.”
A rush of concern washed over her. She knew he’d been out every night since they’d arrived, but as long as she didn’t know what he was doing, she could pretend he was simply riding around the estate. She’d also demanded that he knock on her door when he returned, so she’d know he was safe. But this time she knew where he’d be and what he’d be doing, and that made the risk seem real.
“Move to your parents’ markers. I don’t want you to stand here too long, in case we’re being watched.”
Millicent moved to the other end of the large stone and knelt between her mother’s and father’s stones.
“Do you notice a difference there?” he asked.
She placed her hands on the grass, then shook her head.
“I’m going to step over to the carriage as if I’m giving you a little privacy. Stay as long as you want. There’s no hurry to leave.”
Millicent remained on the ground between her parents’ graves, but she didn’t experience the devastating sorrow she’d felt earlier. She still missed her family with every beat of her heart, but the pain was lessened with the knowledge that they may have found a clue that would lead them to the ammunition stockpile, and the arrest and conviction of the Earl of Radburn that would follow. And she could watch him hang—not only as a traitor to Queen and country, but as the murderer that he was.
. . .
Barnaby was thankful the night was overcast and the moon wasn’t full, but only a sliver in the sky. It made escaping the house and traveling over the open meadows without being seen much easier.
When he reached the monument, he hid his horse in a grove of stunted trees that had been overtaken by wild elderberry, thick and tangled enough to hide the mare. After the horse was secure, he stayed in the shadows awhile before he crept behind the large stone.
He stayed there for several minutes, checking the area to make sure he wasn’t being watched. When he was sure it was safe, he stepped into the open and knelt beside Millicent’s sister’s faux grave.
He’d brought a few tools to help him investigate: a long-bladed knife, a small shovel, and a steel pike. First, he inserted the blade into the grass until he hit something solid. The blade went in about two inches. The grass, he discovered, grew from thick plugs of spongy earth that were tethered to a footing of fine mesh.
Next, he pushed the knife through the grass in various spots until he had the dimensions of the wood. It was about the size of a door.
He felt the internal murmur of excitement that standing on the brink of discovery always brought him. Something was buried here. Something large.
Barnaby worked until he hit metal on one side of the door. He lifted the dirt and grass enough to discover a hinge, then two more. He worked on the other side until he found a large metal ring. This was how the door opened.
His heart thundered in his chest. He’d found a secret trapdoor. He may have found where Radburn had buried the explosives.
Barnaby lifted his gaze. The sky wasn’t black any longer, but a muted shade of gray. That meant dawn was on its way.
He debated. Could he risk staying longer to discover what was hidden beneath the trapdoor? The agent in him wanted to take the risk. But a voice of reason interjected that the danger he would put Millicent in wasn’t worth getting caught. He would have to come back.
Barnaby was relieved when the blankets of grass fell easily back into place, and with a simple swipe of his hands across the seams, the outline of the trapdoor he’d found completely vanished.
It rankled, having to walk away from his discovery without investigating fully, without opening the trapdoor and verifying his suspicions, but daybreak brought too many risks. And for Millicent’s sake, only extreme caution would be his guide.
He stayed in the shadows until he reached his horse, then made his way back to Westview Manor. His inner clock served him well, and he made his stealthy return in those darkest minutes just before dawn. He slipped his horse into a stall, rubbed him down quickly, and made his way to the far side of the paddock.
Will was waiting.
“Anything new?” Will asked.
“The monument by the cliffs. Radburn has a door buried in the grass. I’ll open it tomorrow night, see what he’s hiding. You?”
Will smiled. “Cook’s helper has a loose tongue. The Frenchmen were caught creeping around the place. They’ve been guests in the dungeon for a couple of weeks now. I’m going to see what I can find out from them.”
“How will you do that?”
“Get myself thrown in the dungeon, I expect.”
The men grinned. It was the very sort of thing they did—getting themselves thrown into dungeons. Tricks like that had gleaned all sorts of information for spies over the years, and Barnaby had no doubt that Will was a master at getting himself incarcerated.
Getting out was a bit more of a trick.
The two spent a moment verifying their observations before they parted, and Barnaby slipped into the house. He climbed the back stairs until he was on the floor where his room was located. He walked down the hall, and as he did each night, he knocked on Millicent’s door when he passed. Although he doubted she stayed awake to make sure he got back safely, it was comforting to know that someone waited for him. Reassuring to know someone would know if he didn’t return. Would care if he didn’t.
Barnaby climbed into bed as soon as he reached his room. He would have to fall asleep fast if he intended to function at all today.
He thought of Millicent sleeping in her bed mere yards away. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile, and he fell asleep.
Chapter 8
Millicent was more nervous than she thought she’d be. She wasn’t sure what her father’s friends and neighbors would think when Radburn announced their betrothal, but she was certain his announcement wouldn’t show her in the best light. She wondered if any of them suspected what Radburn was involved in. She more than suspected that her father had known. And that the knowledge was the reason he was killed.
She sat on the artfully upholstered bench in front of the mirror and stared at the face before her. The face staring back seemed a stranger. She couldn’t believe she’d changed so dramatically from the person she’d been little more than a year ago. Couldn’t believe she’d endured such heartache and survived.
She was about to give in to a moment of self-pity when a knock at the door caught her attention.
> “Yes,” she said, glad for the interruption.
The door opened and Lord Radburn stepped into the room. He was dressed in exquisitely tailored black formal attire.
Millicent was struck again by the powerful figure he presented. By how he dominated the room in a frightening way. She knew that she was right to be fearful of him. He was all grace and courtesy when he wasn’t crossed, but she imagined his demeanor would change if he were challenged.
His gaze focused on her. “You are a vision of loveliness,” he said, closing the door behind him.
“Thank you my lord, but—”
“Marcus. Please. I want you to call me by my given name. Especially tonight.”
His request was more a demand, and Millicent caught a glimpse of his forbidding side.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Marcus.”
“I have something for you.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and lifted out a long box. “For you,” he said, handing it to her.
Millicent opened the box, knowing it was most likely a piece of jewelry he’d bought for her to mark the formal announcement of their engagement. But she wasn’t prepared for what she saw when she looked into the narrow box.
Lying on a bed of soft white velvet was a necklace the likes of which she had seen only on the wealthiest of dowagers. A filigreed latticework of exquisite gold was interwoven with a string of brilliantly cut diamonds. Interlaced among the diamonds were a dozen or more finely cut emeralds. Millicent had never held anything so elegant. Never beheld anything as exquisite as the necklace Radburn presented her.
“Oh, my lo—Marcus,” she said in breathy wonder. “I can’t possibly accept anything so—”
“You can. It is nothing compared to your beauty. And it will show our guests the depth of my feeling for you.”
“But—”
“I asked your maid what color gown you would wear tonight, and was assured these would complement it perfectly. I’m glad to see that it does.”
