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

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Courting Intrigue: A Sweet, Regency Romance (The Bequest Series Book 2) Page 9

by Wendy May Andrews


  “I doubt anyone is about. We don’t really need to whisper.”

  “Do you care to see what sort of reaction we would get if someone happens upon us, my lord?” Lillian was surprised at how relaxed the earl seemed. “Are you not trying to keep your quest quiet?”

  “Well, of course I’m trying to keep it quiet, but everyone is either still dancing or already fast asleep. We shall not be discovered.”

  “I am not so confident, my lord. We need to be quick.”

  “Miss Shaw, do not be anxious. All will be well.”

  Lillian almost ground her teeth together at the earl’s words. They were not helping to allay her fears. If anything, his easy-going manner was making it worse for her, as it seemed he was not taking the very real risks seriously. But she lifted her chin and chose to ignore the handsome earl and her own misgivings. She opened the steward’s door and stepped into the room ahead of Lord Sedgwick.

  The candles they had been carrying cast eerie shadows on the walls before they settled down. Lillian quickly lit several more, brightening the room considerably. She didn’t want it too bright, lest the light spill out from under the door, but it needed to be bright enough for them to see what they were doing.

  They made quick work of choosing which side of the room they would each start searching. Lillian wasn’t sure if she was even doing it right. She had no idea what they were looking for but didn’t want to ask any more questions. As the earl had said, they would know it when they found it.

  Lillian quickly became engrossed in her task. She hadn’t been in the room since Wilbur’s death. The steward was the least comfortable of all the residents with her work on Lady Violet’s behalf. He wouldn’t meet with her since her uncle’s death, insisting that he only answered to the viscount. Lillian had never bothered to argue. She didn’t need any more tasks assigned to her, anyway. And one of her greatest aims was to avoid any conflict with Lester.

  Not that searching the steward’s room was going to further her efforts in that regard, Lily thought sarcastically before bringing her mind back to the task at hand. Her attention was quickly snagged by the small pile of papers she had found tucked into what looked to be the current ledger. She stepped closer to the light just as she heard footsteps in the hallway outside the room.

  The breath stilled in her chest, and Lillian froze with fear just as the door handle turned. Looking around frantically for a place to hide, her gaze collided with that of the earl. She saw that his eyes were filled with sympathy, but she couldn’t grasp why until the steward stepped into the room with Lester hard on his heels.

  “What is the meaning of this, Lillian?” Lester demanded, his tone hard and cool. “Are you trying to make off with my important papers?”

  Lillian’s gaze flickered toward the earl and was stunned to realize the man had disappeared. She blinked for a second before looking back into Lester’s cold eyes. Without flinching, Lillian brought her chin up and refused to cower.

  “Not at all, my lord, I was concerned about a discrepancy the cook had mentioned in one of the orders we received from the butcher and was hoping to find the receipt so that I could confirm if it was, in fact, a problem before I brought it to your attention.”

  She felt rather proud of herself for her quick thinking for a brief moment before the viscount sneered at her words. “It is not your place to be concerned about such matters, even if I believed this tall tale. Ralph was going to show me some concerns he had with one of the accounts, but I think we’ve found the source of the problem already, haven’t we? It is you who has been pilfering from my accounts, isn’t it? Don’t bother arguing, Lily. Your being here is unacceptable. You have no business in my affairs. You are no longer welcome to be receiving of my charity.”

  Lillian felt her eyebrows rise. “Of what charity are you speaking, my lord? I have received nothing from you.”

  “I have never owed you a single thing, and yet I have allowed you to remain as a guest in my home.”

  Lillian didn’t bother to argue with his definition of guest, merely looking him in the eye and awaiting his next words. It was obvious he wanted her to beg. She doubted it would do any good, even if she could have stomached doing such a thing.

  “You will vacate these premises immediately.”

  The steward must have had at least an ounce of dignity in him. He made to protest.

  Lester acknowledged the man’s discomfort. “You are too soft, Ralph. Very well, Lillian. You may remain until daylight. Never let it be said I’m anything but merciful.”

  Lillian didn’t even bother replying. She turned on her heel and left the room with as much dignity as she could muster. How was she going to explain this to her aunt? The fear hit her as she got closer to her small bed chamber. What she had been dreading ever since Lester inherited had finally happened. She had been banished from Ashburn Place. And she had nowhere to go.

  The thought of throwing herself upon the charity of old family friends back in Sherton turned her stomach, but there was little other choice. She could, of course, demand that the Earl of Sedgwick do something about her situation, but really, that wouldn’t help. It might only cause her to be further ruined. And what kind of a position to help her could the man be in, anyway? He hadn’t been willing to hire her as housekeeper or steward; it was doubtful he would be able to help her find somewhere to go. Besides the fact that he had done nothing to help her in the moment of her ruination. Lillian mentally waved her hand in dismissal to the thoughts. She understood on one level that he couldn’t give himself away, but on another, the one that thought they had somehow become friends, she was deeply hurt that he had stood silent while she had been dismissed like so much rubbish.

  Aunt Violet wouldn’t be able to send her to one of her friends now that she had been banished. Lillian castigated herself. She should have insisted that her aunt find her a position before it came to this. She just hadn’t wanted to leave her only living relative. But now she would have to. And under a cloud. It wasn’t going to be an enjoyable experience.

  Squaring her shoulders, Lillian refused to give into the fear that was threatening to overwhelm her. What was done was done. Perhaps it would actually be for the best, Lillian tried to encourage herself. She had been stagnating here at Ashburn Place. Now she was going to be forced to adjust. It was entirely possible that something good would come of this turn of events. Lillian couldn’t, in that moment, think what that good might be, but she was willing to concede that it was possible.

  When she reached her room, Lillian pulled the satchel she had used to bring her few belongings to Ashburn Place out from under the bed and carefully placed those few belongings into it. She debated over what else to take. All the lovely gowns Uncle Wilbur had insisted on buying her were a little outdated and more suited to a young girl. Lillian had only given in and allowed her aunt to have one gown made for her since her uncle had died. It was lovely and suited her perfectly even though Lily had rarely had occasion to wear it. It would be a wrinkled mess if she put it in her satchel, but it might be to her benefit to bring it with her since, if she ever had an opportunity to present herself for a position, it wouldn’t do to show up looking like a street urchin. Not that anyone would be willing to take her on as a companion now, she acknowledged with a sniff. A cloud would follow her. Her respectability would be questioned since she would no longer be coming from Ashburn Place.

  Lillian shook her head. Being at Ashburn Place hadn’t done much to help set her up, she reminded herself. She had always managed to land on her feet. She would do so once more. She would have to ensure the fear she was feeling motivated her, not overwhelmed her. With a decisive nod, Lily squeezed in the last of her belongings that would fit in the one bag. She couldn’t burden herself with more as she would most likely have to walk, since she wouldn’t have the funds to hire transportation.

  Aunt Violet would want to provide her with money, Lillian was sure. But Lily was also sure that her aunt had spent all her pin money for
that quarter. It was certain Lester wouldn’t advance her any at this point, since he would know it was to be for Lillian’s benefit. Not that she would have taken her aunt’s money anyway, but it added to the quagmire of emotions that they were sure to be confronted with when Lillian had to say goodbye to her aunt.

  Forcing herself to lie down even though she was certain she would be unable to sleep, Lillian tried to still her mind, but the questions continued to chase themselves around in her head. Who could she trust? Who would take her in? Where could she go? Bad things could happen to young women who didn’t have the sense to keep themselves out of trouble.

  Lillian realized in that moment that the strongest emotion she was feeling was anger. Anger with herself for giving in to the lure of helping the earl. She had succumbed to pride. The handsome man had appealed to her intelligence, and she had caved right in. She had wanted to feel superior to Lester. Which was ridiculous. Everyone was superior to Lester, she thought with a small smile. But she had wanted to impress the earl. And now she was teetering on the precipice of a great unknown.

  Taking a deep breath, Lillian quelled the nerves that threatened to overwhelm her. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and sat back up. She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight; lying there wasn’t going to do her any good.

  How dreadful would it be to leave without saying goodbye to Lady Violet? Her aunt would be hurt, but it might be better for both of them if she just wrote her a letter. Lillian didn’t want to take a chance on her aunt getting into trouble with Lester on her account.

  Lillian made quick work of getting herself dressed respectably and tidying her hair. Picking up her satchel and leaving her room as silently as she could, Lillian bit her lip in indecision. There was an escritoire in at least one of the salons. She would be undisturbed and could explain everything in a letter she would slip under her aunt’s door. It would be a fait accompli before her aunt awoke. It would be better than a prolonged, emotional leave taking. And the least likely to embarrass her aunt with guests still in the house.

  Indecision assailed Lily, though, as she sat down to write. What could she tell her aunt? She needed to provide her with a direction of some sort so her aunt could remain in touch with her. Watching the candle sputter on the edge of her table absorbed her attention as she tried to figure out what was best.

  My dearest aunt,

  Please do not get yourself into a taking, but Shepley finally threw me out of the house. He had agreed that I could wait until morning, but I was too restless to wait and have decided to get a head start since it is a bright, cloudless night.

  I beg of you not to ring a peal over him. It will only worsen your situation and won’t do any good. I promise you, I will be just fine.

  Lillian had to stop to brush an errant tear from her cheek. Just writing her farewell was dreadful. She had made the right decision not to do it in person. But where was she going to tell her aunt she was going?

  I am heading for Sherton. It is time I checked on things there, anyway. I will make contact with old friends and see if I can get an audience with the countess. Perhaps I can find a position there until I receive my bequest. It will be the best circumstances for everyone. I promise I will keep you updated on my progress. If I have to move on from Sherton, I will ensure you have my direction.

  Please, don’t worry about me. You know I am capable and the friends in Sherton will see to me. It has been lovely to be together these past few years, but it is time for me to seek my own destiny now. I will love you forever.

  Yours,

  Lillian

  Waving the paper gently to dry the ink, Lillian blinked rapidly to dispel the threatening tears. Now that she had stated her plan, she felt energized and motivated. And surely it wasn’t much further than ten or fifteen miles to Sherton. She could walk the entire way and save her few spare coins. Thus decided, she left her satchel in the parlour and made her way as quietly as possible above stairs to her aunt’s bedroom door.

  Lillian had a moment of indecision as she stood in front of the solid oak. She knew her aunt would be hurt that she hadn’t waited until morning so she could say goodbye in person, but Lillian knew it would be all the more painful for both of them if she didn’t leave now. And with Lester’s guests still in the house, there was sure to be a scene if the viscount found her still present. Or Violet would feel obliged to defend her niece in front of her stepson, and Lillian’s ruination would be ensured if she were forced to explain her presence in the steward’s office.

  No, it was better for all involved if she did it this way. Lillian squared her shoulders for at least the fifth time that night before bending down and slipping the folded piece of paper under the door. Violet’s maid would find and deliver it when she brought the viscountess her morning chocolate.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trudging along the road with her satchel rubbing her hip, Lillian silently lamented how much she had packed. She tried to remind herself she would be grateful later that she had managed to bring as much as she had and would, in fact, be wishing for more. But the bag was feeling heavier and heavier as the time passed. Glancing toward the moon, Lillian was grateful for its presence but wished the shadows it cast weren’t so very creepy. Surely it couldn’t be too much longer before the sun would start to rise, she reassured herself.

  She was grateful that she had crept back into the steward’s office to examine a map. Lillian had hesitated to do so, but she had decided she couldn’t be more banished than she was, so there was nothing really for her to risk by entering. And the knowledge she had gleaned had served her well at the last crossroads. She had just been able to make out the writing on the small sign in the weak light and was confident she was on the right road.

  Wondering how Sedgwick was feeling after what had transpired kept her thoughts occupied during the lonely hours of her walk. Lillian hoped the earl would be able to find whatever he was looking for to stop the treacherous plot, if there truly was one. She still couldn’t believe that Lester was involved, no matter how angry she was with him for her banishment. He just didn’t have it in him as far as she was concerned. But Sedgwick had been quite convinced of Lester’s guilt. And nothing she had said or done could dissuade him. And now, here she was in the wee hours of the morning walking home to Sherton in disgrace.

  Shaking her head to dispel the negative thoughts, Lillian spent the rest of the dark hours planning her recipes for the first things she would bake when she finally had her bakery. Before she knew it, she could see light beginning to peek over the horizon. As the light increased, so did her optimism. With relief, she read the next road marker confirming she was halfway to her destination. Despite the dark and the small noises that had made her jump through the night, she had managed to walk six miles thus far. She would reach her destination before nightfall for sure.

  Her steps felt lighter and she picked up her pace despite her hunger and the bag weighing her down. Lillian was glad she had also stopped off in the kitchen on her way out the door and had managed to collect a small sack of provisions. She stopped next to a small stream that ran beside the road to wash her hands and get a drink. Her ordeal no longer seemed so very dreadful now that the deepest darkness had passed.

  Violet read her niece’s letter three times, certain that she couldn’t possibly be understanding the words correctly.

  “Are you all right, my lady?” her maid asked as the noblewoman frowned down at the paper in her hand.

  “I am not completely sure, to be honest with you,” she answered. Hearing the worry in her own voice, Violet tried to paste a smile to her face. It wouldn’t do to alert the household if what was said in this letter was true. “But I do need to speak with my stepson. Could you please go find out from his valet if he is stirring as yet and then come back here and help me get ready? I will finish my chocolate while you are gone and be ready for you.”

  “Would you like me to also ring for your niece?”

  “No,” Violet answered
sharply before forcing another smile. “The poor dear has done so much to help me out, if she is still sleeping, we ought to let her rest.” Violet knew she wouldn’t be able to hide anything from the servants for long, but she needed to know where she stood before she let anyone know, if she could help it. She hoped she might be able to get her niece back before anyone was any the wiser. Surely there couldn’t be too very many routes to Sherton from Ashburn Place. A couple of footmen sent out in any possible direction should be able to collect her in no time, Violet assured herself as she sipped her morning drink. It did not satisfy her as it usually did. Her stomach churned in a way it hadn’t done since she had met her dear, late husband.

  It felt as though she had always been consumed with worry, even as a child. She had been far more aware of their precarious financial circumstances than had her brother, or so she had thought when they were children. As they had grown, her brother had confided in her that he had known and worried, too, but he had been in a different situation than had she. He had been able to do something about it. He had been hired by the town blacksmith as an apprentice and had actually been able to help with household expenses. Their parents had lamented his entering the trade but hadn’t argued with the grouts he had been able to bring home.

  Her marriage to the late viscount had allayed her anxieties for her future. But now she was back to those old feelings of uncertainty. That dratted girl is far too independent for her own good, the doting aunt thought with a shudder. Violet was torn between anger with the girl for running off on her own and pride in her for wanting to deal with her problems on her own. Violet could understand that sentiment. She would have never wanted to be a burden for anyone either. But her niece wasn’t a burden. If anything, it was the viscountess who was a burden for the young girl, since she had allowed her to take on so many of her responsibilities. But the silly chit had taken it in her head that she didn’t want to burden her aunt with her banishment. Violet could appreciate that as well, but she couldn’t allow the girl to run off on her own. She would have to bestir herself more than she had in the last several years.

 

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