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

by Wendy May Andrews

  “I still wonder how you know about those threats, but I will tell you that she considered them more than threats. She left here that night, and I haven’t seen her since. She left me a letter before she walked away and sent another letter through the groom I sent to fetch her, but I haven’t seen her since the last evening of the house party.”

  The earl nodded. “I was afraid of that. She is far too stubborn for her own good.” He looked at Violet, and she saw what appeared to be desperation in his gaze. “Do you know where she went?”

  “She was last seen in Sherton, but I haven’t heard from her since. And I have been hesitating about launching an actual search for fear of damaging her reputation. You see, I have procured the offer of a Season for the two of us. I don’t want her chances marred by any knowledge of this mix up.”

  “It seems like more than a mix up, my lady. And if I have my way, she won’t need a Season.”

  “She might not need it, but every young lady deserves to know a Season.”

  The earl laughed. “This is not a subject I wish to debate with you at the moment. Shall we agree that Miss Shaw can decide whether or not she wants a Season once we have ensured her safety?”

  Violet beamed at him, delighted with his obvious concern for her niece. “Very well, my lord. What do you intend to do?”

  “I shall start in Sherton and not stop until I’ve found the girl.”

  “And will you bring her to me?”

  “Not necessarily. I have no desire to subject her to Lester’s presence ever again. Could you perhaps have a bag packed and be prepared to remove from here? If she will agree to take me, there is nothing questionable about the two of you visiting my estate.”

  Violet’s eyes widened. “We have also been invited for an extended visit to Lord Avery’s estate. I will pack for both of us. Do you think you will have her today?”

  “I will do my very best, my lady, but for that, I shall have to bid you farewell for the moment.”

  “Yes, of course, please, think nothing of me. Can I send some servants with you? They could help. And they could bring me information.”

  The earl grinned. “You must have been beside yourself to be here without knowing anything for the past week.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Very well, one servant. I don’t want to draw undue attention, as you say, to Miss Shaw’s circumstances. But it might be useful to be able to contact you if needed.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I promise, the servants are well trained and shan’t interfere with whatever you need to do.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As he rode away, the earl thought about what had brought him to this time and place.

  Brock had ridden out of London early the morning after he had seen his overseer at the theater. The morning was glorious, and he had been thrilled to leave the stench of the city behind.

  As he rode, his mind wandered over all the events of the past weeks. At times he found himself grinning like a simpleton over certain things Miss Shaw had said. She was such an interesting mix. At times sweet and funny, always working hard. He had never met a young woman like her. She didn’t have the subservience of a servant nor the haughtiness of a debutante. He rather liked her and was hard pressed to get her out of his mind.

  He tried to distract himself with thoughts of all that he wanted to accomplish at Sedgwick, but even there, the girl was intruding into his thoughts as he remembered the scene when he had tried to convince her he was examining the woodwork and not searching Lester’s study. Brock laughed out loud over the memory. Any other well-bred woman would have accepted his words. A servant wouldn’t have believed him but would have been too nervous to contradict him. Not his Lillian. She had strode right in and called him on his lies.

  Not that it did her any good. Her intelligence had gotten her caught up in his investigation, which had led to her banishment from the only home she had. Foolish girl. Brock hoped she had learned from the experience and managed to keep a firmer hold on her curiosity in the future and remained in the role she was supposed to be filling. No one would keep a companion around who couldn’t remain in her place, he was certain.

  The earl tried once more to think of other things and finally was able to do so when his estate came into view. He had never expected to inherit and would never have wished his brother ill, but he had always loved the old pile of bricks and was proud beyond measure to be able to call it his.

  A couple days passed while he saw to estate business. He had been gone nearly a month, and there were still things to see to from before he inherited. His father and brother had allowed the estate to get run down, and he would have plenty of work in the coming months and years to get it back to the top shape it ought to be. Brock thought of Lillian once more and what she would be able to accomplish if she were steward or housekeeper at Sedgwick as she had asked him. Of course, he could never bring her here in such a role, but he knew she would thrive if he could.

  Once he thought of her in his home, he couldn’t push the idea away. And his concern over what had become of her started to hang heavy over him. It was his fault she had been in that study. Brock wasn’t certain what had made the steward suspicious. He wasn’t sure the man ever set foot in his office in the evening. Or any time, if he could avoid it, the cur was a lazy bag of bones that was exploiting the viscount. But Brock wasn’t wasting any concern for Lester. The wastrel had banished a young woman who, by rights, should have been under his care.

  She really wasn’t Brock’s responsibility, but he couldn’t quite convince himself of that. The more he thought of her, the more he wanted to think about her. He couldn’t dismiss from his mind images of her, dressed properly as befit a young woman of her station, gracing his breakfast room with her presence, or bustling about the house getting it into order. When he was also picturing her in his bedroom, he knew he was done for and the only thing left for him to do was go and find her. He was hoping beyond hope that her aunt had stepped in and prevented her from actually leaving Ashburn Place, so he would start there in his search for his future countess.

  This was how he found himself standing outside Ashburn Place with a clammy hand raised toward the knocker. He wondered if his handlers had brought their investigation yet. Brock wasn’t sure what sort of reception he would receive. Since he had been adamant that he was retiring from the Home Office, they might not be too concerned about protecting his identity. Of course, they would prefer to prevent scandal, even if they didn’t care about looking out for him, so he should be safe as far as that goes. And it had always been Lillian who had caught him out. Neither Shepley nor the steward had any knowledge of his searches. His heart swelled in pride as he remembered how Lillian had accepted Lester’s decree without plea or any mention of Brock and his search. She would be a remarkable partner for his future endeavours, whatever they might be.

  Finally, with resolution, he brought the knocker down firmly. The door was quickly wrenched open by the butler he remembered from his visit.

  “My lord,” the usually contained older servant gazed at him as though uncertain of his role.

  “Good afternoon, I would like to speak with Lady Shepley.”

  Brock was making quick work of riding to Sherton after his interview with the viscountess. He tried to quell his concern for Lillian, but the fact that she hadn’t sent word to her aunt filled him with dismay. He knew she would never want to cause concern for her only relative. He agreed with Violet that the only reason the girl had left was to spare the viscountess’ feelings when faced with a houseful of noble guests. It was foolish on the girl’s part, of course, and he would tell her so as soon as he found her safe.

  If he found her safe. Brock felt more fear than on any previous occasion as he rode into the small hamlet a little more than ten miles from Ashburn. It was ridiculous, really. He had faced blades, fists, and crowds, all without batting an eye. Now, as he worried about the girl, he felt as though his heart were going to pound out of his ch
est. What if he couldn’t find her? What if, while he was dithering, something dreadful had befallen her? Would she ever forgive him? Would he ever forgive himself?

  He made his first stop at the inn where the Ashburn groom had said she had written the letter to her aunt.

  “My lord, it is an honour to have you stop by our humble establishment.”

  The innkeeper’s enthusiasm made Brock smile, at least slightly. He wondered if Lillian received the same welcome. That sobered him.

  “I am looking for a young woman who came through here about a week ago. She was from Ashburn Place and needed to write a letter to her aunt. Do you recall?”

  The innkeeper eyed him with speculation gleaming in his eyes. “We value our patrons’ privacy here, my lord. I am not certain I should tell you anything about a previous visitor.”

  Brock gritted his teeth. “How about you bring me a tankard and one for yourself, and we’ll see if we can remember between us when last you might have seen the girl.”

  The innkeeper, as Brock knew he would, grinned with delight over the promise of coins. After he poured them each a drink, the man leaned in closer.

  “I shouldn’t normally speak of my patrons, but if you’re looking for her, I should tell you, since she might be in some sort of danger, a young girl on her own.”

  “Was she on her own?”

  “Well, no, she had her groom with her, of course. But she told me some Banbury story about her aunt, but no one has come by from Ashburn Place in weeks.”

  “And you haven’t seen the girl since?”

  “No, my lord, I haven’t. Although I thought I saw her earlier today, but it was just a resemblance.”

  Brock forced a grin. “Blonde young women are thick on the ground, aren’t they?”

  The innkeeper wasn’t wrong. From a distance, many of the young women looked similar. But not his Lillian. How anyone could mistake her for someone else would be a mystery to Brock.

  Brock tossed back the rest of his drink and flicked the innkeeper his coin before striding out of the room. Lillian wasn’t here, that was certain. Perhaps he would have more luck at the other inn he could just see before the road bent.

  A matronly woman answered his summons, but she didn’t appear willing to share any information about any young women.

  “Can’t be divulging anything I might know about any young women, my lord. And don’t bother shaking your purse at me. I’ve got me some standards. And protecting girls is one of ‘em. I’ll thank you to get yourself off my front porch unless you’re needing a room.”

  Brock couldn’t prevent a kernel of respect that germinated in his chest. He appreciated the woman’s fortitude in refusing to be bought off.

  “I might need a room for the night. I won’t be sure until I’ve asked around a little bit more. Thank you for your time.”

  The buxom older woman just sniffed at him, and Brock laughed as he walked back to his horse. Lady Violet had given him the direction of Lillian’s former residence. He would start by asking the neighbours if they had seen her. Violet was certain she hadn’t had success with any of them, or she would have sent word, but by now she may have been able to make contact.

  Frustration was growing within him as one by one he was met with silence. Either there was no one home or they didn’t know what he was talking about. He was gratified by the reactions of the few people he had found who remembered her. Every last one of them had nothing but good things to say about Lillian and her family.

  “You be sure to give my love when you find her,” the last woman had said. “I only wish I had been here to receive her myself.”

  Brock hadn’t wanted to tell the full story and had kept most of the details to himself, but he had been forced to divulge some information to the people he was questioning, as they had become defensive and protective when he had been asking around about Lillian Shaw.

  “What’s it to you, my lord? Miss Shaw is a special young woman and not to be trifled with,” had been the reaction at one door.

  “Of course, of course, my good woman. I mean her no ill, I promise you. But she found herself in a bit of a needful situation and was looking for somewhere to stay. I have news from her aunt and am trying to find her so she can come home.”

  “Oh, the poor dear. I’m right sorry that I can’t say I was able to help the poor dear in her moment of need.”

  When the older woman began to weep Brock became truly uncomfortable. He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “I am certain she is fine. If you remember her well, you know how resourceful the girl is.”

  This seemed to be the right thing to say. The older woman’s tears slowed, and she was able to smile. “That she certainly is, the sweet, dear girl.”

  “I’ll be sure to give her your greetings when I find her.”

  “Thank you, my lord. Perhaps you could tell her to write a letter to me?”

  “I will mention it,” he promised as he silently reprimanded himself for wondering if the woman knew how to read. He couldn’t imagine his Lillian living in surroundings like these. Of course, the house next door, the one that had belonged to her family was slightly better. It was showing signs of wear now, but it appeared to have been well cared for up until recently. If he recalled correctly, Lillian’s parents had been ill before their deaths, so they probably hadn’t been able to keep it perfectly even while they lived there. Knowing his Lillian, though, she would have done her best to keep it all together.

  He was able to excuse himself from the neighbour and continue on his search. He was just about to knock on another door when he heard a voice from behind him.

  “I hear you’re looking for me.”

  Brock whirled around, almost losing his balance. He felt heat spread across his face as she laughed at him.

  “Where have you been?” he almost bellowed.

  “It’s nice to see you, too,” Lillian replied back to him with a smirk. “Could we perhaps not have this conversation on the street? I only have a couple hours free, and I have much I need to accomplish.”

  Brock’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. The girl had most definitely not been cowed by her recent experiences.

  “You look well.”

  “Thank you, did you think I had been ill?”

  “Your aunt has been looking for you. She was worried. I’ve been worried.”

  He felt her eyes searching his face but wasn’t over his anger enough to reassure her.

  “My aunt had no reason to be worried. I informed her of my intentions, not only once, but twice.”

  “But apparently you said in your second message that you would let her know your direction.”

  “Did she expect it immediately? I haven’t been free to do so. In fact, I had just gone to the inn to write to her when I was told a fancy lord was searching for me. I will have you know, I don’t appreciate you wandering around town speaking about me. It will do nothing good for my reputation.”

  Brock blinked at her, surprised by her reaction.

  “As I said, we were worried.”

  “What did you think had happened to me?”

  “All sorts of bad things could have befallen you, Lillian. I don’t want to sully your innocent ears with details, but there are bad men who would like nothing better than to get their hands on a beautiful young woman like you.”

  The earl was relieved to see she responded to his words, but then she quickly reacted in a way he would not have expected, although on second thought, he should have.

  Lillian burst into laughter. “Thank you for that, my lord. I have been far too serious for the past week. I needed a good laugh. Yes, I am well aware that bad things happen. Especially to good people, it would seem from what I’ve seen of life. But I was taught from a very young age how to protect myself.” She held up a hand to stem whatever he was about to say. “I know, I know, I’m small and female and thus unable to truly look after myself, or at least in the opinion of most men. But I’m not stupid. Yes, it might have been foolish
to walk away from Ashburn in the middle of the night, I realized that in hindsight, but by the time I did, I was halfway to Sherton. My options were to continue on, or to return. They were fairly equal in their risk, so I carried on. And sent word to my aunt when the groom found me. Written word, in fact, to make sure the poor groom didn’t get into any trouble. So I was not negligent, nor foolhardy. I have been safe and sound at Sherton House almost from the moment I walked into the village.”

  “But as a servant? Really, Lillian? That is what you have aspired to accomplish with your life?”

  “There is nothing wrong with good, honest labour, my lord. I would far prefer working hard for my living than searching through a fellow nobleman’s private papers, I can assure you.”

  Brock felt the heat climb in his cheeks once more. He was momentarily at a loss for words. Lillian filled the silence.

  “Now that you’ve seen for yourself that I am fine, although, now that I’m saying that, I am left to wonder how you even came to the conclusion that you needed to be concerned about me. It has been more than a week since you overheard Lester evict me from my home and did nothing to help me. Did it take that long for your conscience to prod you?”

  When Brock opened his mouth and nothing came out, Lillian plowed on.

  “Never mind, allow your conscience to absolve you, my lord. I am actually perfectly happy in my position here at Sherton. The cook is brilliant, and I am more than capable of keeping up with his demands. I will be in an excellent position to start my bakery when I inherit. And I will be an unmitigated success.”

  Brock had to smile over her words. “I’m absolutely certain you will be, too, but I was worried about you.”