Courting Intrigue: A Sweet, Regency Romance (The Bequest Series Book 2)

by Wendy May Andrews

  Brock was at a loss for words and was beginning to wish he had never begun the conversation with her.

  Chapter Seven

  Lillian could have talked with the man all day. It was unusual that she was sharing so many personal details. And it even seemed so very natural. That fact scared the stuffing out of her. She had no desire to develop a tendre for one of Lester’s friends. But really, how could the man be one of Lester’s friends? The more she learned about him, the more suspicious he seemed. He was too watchful, too serious, too calm, too steady to be one of Lester’s friends. And he was far too handsome for Lillian’s peace of mind. She would like him gone from Ashburn Place. But the fact that he had written to his servants to send him more clothes left her thinking he wouldn’t be vacating the premises any time too soon. She stifled her sigh. She would have to continue keeping an eye on him.

  On the one hand, that wouldn’t be such a hardship, she thought with a grin she tried to subdue when she saw his eyebrow quirk up in question of her sudden change of mood. But on the other, she didn’t want to notice anything about the man. Not his lovely, quirky eyebrows, and certainly not the way intelligence shone in his gaze as he spoke with her.

  “What is in this crate?” the earl finally asked in an aggrieved tone, causing Lillian to burst into laughter even as she felt hot colour splash up her cheeks.

  “It’s all the flatware that will be required for the ball tomorrow evening.”

  “And you were carrying it, why, might I ask?”

  “Because I have all the spare footmen helping the groundsmen repair the damage to the side lawn from Lester’s impromptu game of polo.”

  The earl blinked at her. “You really are the informal steward and housekeeper, aren’t you?” He paused for a moment, gazing at her with puzzlement clearly displayed on his momentarily expressive features.

  Lillian appreciated being able to read his thoughts, as he usually hid them so well. She couldn’t help grinning at him, but she didn’t bother replying.

  “But why did the flatware need to be delivered to the ballroom?”

  “So the maids can make sure it is in readiness. I certainly couldn’t ask any of them to carry this crate.”

  “But you were carrying it.”

  “Well, yes, I could ask myself to do it.”

  The earl’s laugh curled her toes and warmed her stomach. Lillian had to work hard to squelch the sensations.

  “You are a strange woman, Miss Lillian Shaw.”

  Lillian just grinned at him. She couldn’t argue with him. She supposed she was, especially when compared with the women the earl was probably used to interacting with. She wanted to be undismayed by his words, but she couldn’t help being a little hurt by them. She tilted her chin up and refused to be shamed. Her feelings, though, must have been written on her face, as the earl quickly stumbled over an apology.

  “I meant no offence, Miss Shaw. I only meant that you are very different than the usual wellborn women I have met.”

  “Do not worry about my feelings, my lord. I realize I am different. My parents assured me I am unique,” she stated with a grin.

  “I would agree with their assessment.”

  Lillian was surprised to see what appeared to be admiration lurking in his gaze, but she dismissed the thought. She doubted any aristocratic gentleman would admire her managing ways. Unless perhaps he had a bunch of motherless children. Then she might be considered a catch. The thought amused her. It mattered little. All she had to do was survive until she got her dowry from Sherton and she would be set. And this earl’s handsome visage and intelligent gaze weren’t going to distract her from her plans for her future.

  By the time they made it to the ballroom, Lillian was relieved that she could dismiss the man but knew she couldn’t be rude about it. If not for his help, she doubted she would have been able to manage the task. It had seemed like a reasonable idea when she had set forth from the cellars with the crate. It hadn’t seemed so very heavy then. But she knew her arms and shoulders would be aching the next day, even though she had only carried it half the way. Surely the earl would be even more affected than she, as the nobility weren’t prone to physical labour.

  “Thank you ever so much, my lord. You saved me a great deal of effort.”

  She had to bite her lip to hide her amusement when the earl’s cheekbones darkened with embarrassment. The man clearly didn’t receive gratitude on a regular basis.

  “It was nothing, miss. I’m sure any number of the gentlemen would have been happy to help you.”

  Lillian wasn’t so sure. And Lester would have been furious if he had thought she was enlisting help from amongst his friends. “That’s kind of you to say, my lord.” Now she needed to be rid of him so she could get along with her duties. “Can I help you with anything? I know your own activities were interrupted by my plight.”

  “No, no, upon my honour as a gentleman, it was the least I could do. I’ll just leave you to your activities, then.”

  Lillian was left blinking in his wake. He hadn’t appeared to be in such a hurry to leave her company just seconds before. She wondered what had gotten into him. But then she shrugged and carried on with her duties. She had wanted to be rid of him. It was foolish to regret it when he arranged for it himself. She tried not to watch as he strode from the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Lillian walked briskly into the library and came to an abrupt halt. Lord Sedgwick was trying to peer behind the bookshelf. She had thought he had been doing odd things over the past two weeks, but now she was certain. The man was snooping.

  “Would you like me to summon a couple footmen to move the shelving for you? I must warn you, I fear it is attached to the wall, but they can help you determine that for certain.”

  She would have laughed at the comical expression on the man’s face if she were not feeling overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. She had found herself becoming increasingly attracted to the man while simultaneously trying to avoid contact with him during the course of his stay at Ashburn Place. But now she was forced to accept that he was not the solid gentleman she had been starting to feel he was. He was a sneaky snoop, and she would now be forced to do something about it.

  Lillian sighed. Really, what could she do about it? If she took the matter to Lester he would probably have her thrown from the house just on the principle of the matter. He would, of course, take offence if she were to accuse his friend of something so indefinable as snooping. And even if she could prove anything, she was so constantly on the edge of Lester’s disapproval that it would take nothing more than her approaching him about anything to find herself suddenly homeless. But what could she do? Ignore the matter?

  The earl broke into her thoughts with his stammering response. Colour stained his cheeks, but she could tell he was trying to brazen it out.

  “I was admiring the workmanship of the woodwork in this room. I’ll be having some rooms redone at Sedgwick and was trying to gather some ideas of what I would like done.”

  Lillian merely gazed at him, wondering if he truly expected her to believe him or if he was just counting on her polite behaviour to accept his words at their face value. She was surprised to see his colour heighten even more under her steady gaze.

  “The steward might be able to tell you a little bit more about it, but I’m fairly certain all the woodwork in this room has been in place for more than two hundred years, so you won’t be able to speak with the craftsmen.” She allowed a beat to pass before she cast him a shrewd glance and added, “Not that I believe that is what you were doing. I feel compelled to tell you that I cannot allow you to snoop through Lester’s belongings, my lord. This is not the first time I have found you looking through his rooms on your own. I think it might be time for you to find an excuse to be called urgently back to your estate. It shouldn’t be that hard to think of something, since you are so recently inherited.”

  Before she could do more than blink, the earl had fairly flown across the roo
m past her to the door, closing it with a soft but decisive click. Lillian hadn’t thought the large man capable of such swift action. She also hadn’t previously thought she ought to be nervous of him, but there was nothing foppish about him in that moment as he watched her with a serious, searching gaze. A frisson of awareness and trepidation made its way up her spine, and she had to fight to keep fear from displaying itself on her face.

  “What is the meaning of this, my lord? It is hardly seemly for us to be behind a closed door. I would ask that you step back and allow me to pass.”

  “Not before you hear me out.” He finally spoke, and it was in such a firm, determined voice, so very different from the jovial tones she had become used to hearing from him. Her heartbeat sped up even more, and this time it wasn’t just from fear.

  “I hardly think you are in a position to make demands of me, my lord.”

  Her fear deepened as his eyebrow rose and he looked down his nose at her. “Really, Miss Shaw? I think it is you who is hardly in a position to make demands or accusations of me, wouldn’t you agree? You, yourself, have told me of your precarious position within this household. Do you truly expect me to fear you telling Lester whatever you might think you saw? Who is he going to believe?” Without even blinking, his tone returned to his usual one full of laughter. “Really, my dear, it is such a lovely bookcase, and I truly need to do something about the library at Sedgwick.”

  Lillian felt tears suddenly prickle at the back of her eyelids. Disappointment threatened to overwhelm her. Even though she had known she couldn’t find one of Lester’s friends appealing, she truly had felt drawn to the earl, despite their differing stations. Now she knew that not only was he not for her, he was even worse than Lester. While her aunt’s stepson was a wastrel and a bully, he was open about it. One always knew where one stood with the viscount. But not so with the earl. He was a consummate actor. But which was the act? The fop or the intelligent snoop? And did it really matter? She needed to find a way out of the room, and then she needed to get away from Ashburn Place. She couldn’t stand by and watch this man do whatever he was doing, but he was right, she couldn’t go to Lester either.

  Brock felt as though he had just kicked a puppy. The young woman in front of him had seemed so competent and unflinching in the two weeks that he’d been watching her; he was surprised to see tears forming in her eyes. But he couldn’t allow her to compromise his mission here in Ashburn Place. The idea that crossed his mind caused his breath to hitch. Dare he take her into his confidence? He had never done so before, but he felt he could trust her, and he certainly found her to be intelligent enough to be of assistance. And with all her involvement at the estate, she might be in the best position to know where he ought to look. But will her sense of familial duty cause her to refuse to help and compromise me further? It was a risk he would have to take.

  It felt that eons had passed while he thought the matter through, but Brock was fairly certain it had only been a moment, as she was still glaring at him with a mixture of defiance and fear mixed in with her hurt feelings over his words about Lester and her position at Ashburn Place. He was going to confide in her. It caused an unusual feeling in his midsection. A part of him was actually looking forward to sharing his secrets with her, but the rest of him felt slightly ill at the thought of it.

  “Miss Shaw, I think you should sit down. I have something I need to discuss with you.”

  Brock was surprised by the defiant tilt of her chin. Despite the myriad emotions he had seen crossing her face, it would seem she was not prepared to receive his confessions with equanimity.

  “I will remain standing, thank you, my lord. And I would appreciate it if you would allow me to leave this room. I may not have much standing in this household, but surely you must realize that I’m a gently born woman and as such, we should not be alone in this room.”

  “I have the utmost respect for you, Miss Shaw, and I apologize for detaining you. I will not do so for long, and I have no intention of compromising you in any way.”

  “Then allow me to leave.”

  “I cannot do that until I have secured your cooperation.”

  Brock was surprised to see amusement cross her features. “I am cooperating,” she insisted. “I could, instead, be screaming.”

  With a sigh, Brock acknowledged that she was being as pliant as he could expect under the circumstances and began his tale. “I am here under false pretences,” he began.

  “You don’t say,” she replied, sarcasm loud in her tone.

  Brock bit back a smile and continued. “The Home Office has reason to suspect that Shepley is involved in a plot against the crown, and I was sent here to find the evidence and information about the plot.”

  After a moment’s pause, Lillian burst into gales of laughter while she began to walk around him. “You, my lord, are ridiculous. I don’t know why you are snooping around, but you certainly came up with an entertaining Banbury tale. I’ll give you points for your efforts. But I still think you need to leave.”

  Brock grabbed her arm as she tried to squeeze around him toward the door.

  “I’m not telling you tales, Miss Shaw. I am breaking my vow of confidentiality in order to secure your cooperation.”

  “You cannot seriously expect me to believe that Lord Shepley is involved in some sort of plot against the king or Prince Regent. For one thing, I don’t think he could be capable of plotting anything. For another, he counts himself a proud subject of the crown. He would have no reason to turn traitor to it. From what Lady Violet has told me, he actually wanted to go fight in the war. He is surprisingly patriotic. You chose the wrong story to tell me, my lord.”

  Brock blinked at her, forcing himself to resist the urge to pull her into his arms. Now was most definitely not the time to develop amorous intentions.

  “It might not seem likely, but I’ve seen the evidence they have to suspect him. It is solid. But we need more information.”

  A huff of surprise passed her lips. “You’re really serious, aren’t you? You really believe Lester might be involved in some sort of plot? And you are here trying to gather more information? And now, what? Now, you expect me to help you because I’ve caught you?”

  Brock had been right; the woman was astute. He waited to see how she would carry out the thought.

  Pulling her arm from his grasp, she paced away from him. “This is ridiculous. Your evidence must be a mistake of some sort.”

  “I am surprised by your sudden loyalty to the viscount. He doesn’t deserve it.”

  She spun around to face him. “I am not being loyal to Shepley. I’m being logical.”

  Brock continued to stare at her, keeping a close eye to ensure she wouldn't storm away from him or alert others to his intentions. He found her fascinating but needed to contain the situation. His silence seemed to spur her to further speech.

  Lillian huffed an impatient breath. “Think about this, my lord. You’ve spent considerable time in Lester’s presence over the past two weeks and presumably previously, in order to have been invited to Ashburn Place. Do you truly think him inclined to conspire against the crown, let alone able?”

  Brock felt his resolve weaken, and he blinked over her words. Her face split into a smile, as she felt she was making headway in her argument.

  “I can tell you, he’s not all that bright. And he’s the laziest man I’ve met. Not that I’ve met many, mind you, and all his friends seem to be similar, which leads me to think that you are gravely mistaken and wasting your time. If there truly is some sort of plot and you have been entrusted with some of the investigation, you would be better served to find someone else to investigate. Lester cannot be involved.”

  Brock felt his own lips turning up into a reluctant smile at her logic. He couldn’t really fault her. Lester was dimwitted and lazy. But the evidence had been irrefutable. The dim viscount was involved. And Brock needed to know more about the plot.

  “I see your point, but that doesn’t mean
you’re right. There is proof.”

  “Can you show me this proof?” The beautiful young woman was still defiant. And still distracting. Brock wished he didn’t need her help.

  “I don’t have it with me.”

  “So, you expect me to trust you on face value alone, my lord?” She sounded incredulous. “Because I have to tell you, at face value, there’s little reason for me to trust you.”

  He opened his mouth to defend himself, and she interrupted.

  “Don’t bother saying I ought to trust you since you’re a gentleman. Presumably, Shepley is supposed to be a gentleman, too, and I have my own reasons to distrust him, in addition to the fact that you’re trying to tell me he’s a traitor. So clearly, being a gentleman is no basis for trust.”

  Brock couldn’t contain his amusement over her obvious disdain. Her ire only seemed to rise over his laughter.

  “You find me funny now?” she sputtered.

  He tried to sober. “It’s not you that’s funny. Your words were amusing. And this situation is beginning to feel out of my control, so my laughter might have been tinged with hysteria. I apologize, Miss Shaw.”

  Brock was surprised when her face split into a grin. The girl clearly did not hold a grudge. His admiration for her grew, but he needed to ignore the sensation.

  “Thank you for your apology. It speaks well of you. It’s rare for a man to offer a sincere sounding apology. But then again, you do seem to be an excellent actor.”

  Brock blinked again, narrowing his eyes at her. Was she being sincere? What a strange minx she was.

  “This is not getting us anywhere, Miss Shaw. It is neither here nor there if being a gentleman translates into being trustworthy. You must trust me, as we don’t have a choice in the matter, much as I am forced to trust you.”

  “But the difference being that I have never tried to appear to be anything other than I am.”

  “Now who’s being facetious?”