by Merry Farmer
“Then don’t let her out of your sight,” Katya said. “That should be easy enough to do.” Her teasing grin implied as much mischief as Shayles had suggested. Armand met her teasing with a sharp frown. “Is something wrong?” Katya asked, all too able to see through him.
“Never you mind that,” he mumbled. He glanced to Malcolm and Alex. “Where is Peter? Didn’t he come with you?”
Alex shook his head. “Peter took Mariah home to Starcross Castle. Since she’s in a delicate condition, he didn’t want her under this kind of stress.”
Armand grunted. “I should send Lavinia to Starcross at once.”
“Send me where?” Lavinia asked, a note of hurt in her voice.
Armand hadn’t seen her and Marigold approaching. He winced. Timing never seemed to be on his side where his wife was concerned. “Shayles is dangerous,” he said, caution in his voice and, he hoped, apology in his eyes. “It would be safer for you at Starcross Castle.”
Lavinia blinked at him as though he’d embarrassed her in front of the entire contingent of their friends. “I am the mistress of Broadclyft Hall now,” she said in a carefully controlled voice. “I have a duty to see to our guests, whether they be lions or lambs.”
“We need her to help thwart Shayles anyhow,” Katya said.
Armand sent her a flat look, which Katya met with a stare as though he was the idiot, not her. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. What do we do to get the letter back?”
“Whatever we have to,” Malcolm answered.
“Where is he keeping it?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know for certain,” Armand said with a shrug. “Either in his room or on his person.”
“We won’t have any luck stealing it if it’s on his person,” Katya said. “Not even I would be willing to touch that snake.”
“You paint yourself in such a charming light, Lady Stanhope,” Malcolm said, then sniffed. “Touching Shayles’s snake.”
Katya glared at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time I used my considerable talents for a worthy cause,” she snapped. Malcolm flushed deep red, his jaw clenched in anger. Katya turned back to the rest of them. “I certainly wouldn’t ask any of your female staff to do the job for us. You’ll have to try his room first.”
“Which means we’ll have to keep him out of his room for a length of time,” Armand said, his mood souring on multiple levels.
“I can arrange it,” Lavinia said, startling them all.
“No, Lavinia, I don’t want you putting yourself in danger,” Armand said.
“Let her speak.” Katya stopped him before he could say more.
Lavinia glanced to Katya with far less openness than usual, proving that she had heard Shayles’s suggestion that there had been something between Katya and Armand at one point. Lavinia cleared her throat, then said, “I am the hostess of this house party. I will come up with some sort of entertainment to keep Shayles and his friends occupied.” She glanced hesitantly to Armand. “It’s up to you to choose what to do with that time.”
“I can help her,” Marigold offered, taking Lavinia’s hand. Lavinia sent her a grateful smile.
“What are you all doing over here?” Lady Prior joined their group at last, leaving a wary-looking Mrs. Ainsworth shaking her head at the other end of the hall.
Without missing a beat, Lavinia put on a bland smile and said, “We need to plan an activity for my guests for this afternoon, Mama.”
“Oh, what a delight.” Lady Prior clapped her hands and giggled. “I have ever so many ideas. We could play cards or charades or have a musical event.”
“I was thinking of something out of doors,” Lavinia said, sending a questioning glance to Armand. “Since Broadclyft Hall’s gardens are so splendid.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Lady Prior went on. “It may be September, but there is still plenty of sunshine, though it’s a bit colder today than it has been. Perhaps a treasure hunt, or a game of sardines.”
“An outdoor event it is, then,” Katya said, stepping away from the men to form the ladies into a circle. “I’m sure we can think of something entertaining.”
Lady Prior made a disgusted sound at the prospect of working with Katya.
“Thank you, Lady Stanhope,” Lavinia said without looking Katya in the eye.
Armand writhed on his spot. The last thing he needed was yet another blow to his new and fragile marriage. At the rate things were going, he would have to get down on his knees with half the flowers in Devon and explain every year of his life in detail in order to make Lavinia see that he was not a lascivious coward who ran off to India when things didn’t go his way. She began to walk away, Marigold on one side, her mother on the other, Katya keeping her distance, and he jogged after her.
Chapter 14
“Lavinia, wait!”
Lavinia stopped, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her jaw at Armand’s concerned shout. A headache was beginning to wrap around her temples like a tight band, and having her reluctant, experienced husband chase after her only made it worse.
“Please, go on ahead,” she said to the others in a tired voice. “Mrs. Ainsworth, could you please provide my mother and friends with tea in the pink room?”
“Yes, my lady, though I thought your guests would like to see their rooms and freshen up first?” Mrs. Ainsworth asked with a compassionate look.
“Oh, no,” Lavinia’s mother snapped. “Planning for this afternoon is far more important. Do as you’re told, woman.”
Lavinia winced again, but there was no time to chastise her mother for ordering Mrs. Ainsworth around. Armand caught up to her, touching her elbow as he came to stand in front of her. The last thing Lavinia wanted to do was to air out her marital problems in the front hall when a wave of guests was shuffling about and almost all of the servants of the house were marching around them to prepare for the sudden house party.
“Lavinia, I’m—”
“I know.” She cut Armand off before he could make yet another apology. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, though. “You’re sorry. You’re sorry you’ve allowed a dangerous man to stay in your house. You’re sorry all of your friends have descended on me when I’ve barely begun to take up my role as the viscountess. You’re sorry you have a past that involves other women, women of my acquaintance. You’re sorry you never told me you are traveling half a world away so soon after marrying me, and you’re sorry you married me. You’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry.”
She gulped for breath as her outburst ended, startled that she’d had the nerve to blurt it all out. Heart racing, she glanced up at Armand at last.
He stared at her, an odd look in his eyes. As if he’d never seen her before. At least he wasn’t angry. Although anger would have been more recognizable than the blankness that stared back at her.
Her shoulders dropped as she let out a breath. “No, I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing her throbbing temples. “I have duties to fulfill. A good wife does what is required of her without sullenness or complaint, Mama always says. At least I’ve made her happy.”
Still, Armand said nothing. But his expression shifted from bewilderment to pain. Lavinia could only stand to look at it for a split-second before the hurt and disappointment of her life gaped too wide inside of her.
“Good luck finding the letter,” she said, barely above a whisper, then turned to march off after her mother and friends. Her throat squeezed and her eyes stung with the temptation to weep, but there didn’t seem to be any point. She’d never had any control of her own life, and it appeared that that hope was gone forever now. It was no use shedding tears over the independence she would never have, not when the entire house was sitting on a powder keg.
Before she entered the pink room—where she could already hear her mother and Lady Stanhope bickering—Lavinia took a deep, steadying breath. She could do this. She had one, key task ahead of her—find a distraction to get Shayles and his friends out of the house so that Armand and the
others could search his room.
“Now then,” she announced herself with feigned confidence as she strode into the room. “What activities would get everyone outside and keep them away from the windows?”
“I was thinking a treasure hunt,” her mother answered immediately, her eyes bright. “Or a scavenger hunt. I hear that Lady Tavistock treated her house guests to the most amazing scavenger hunt last summer.”
“Lavinia, dear, are you certain you’re all right?” Lady Stanhope approached her with an expression of deep concern.
Lavinia stepped to the side to avoid her, marching across the room to open one of the windows. “What is involved in a scavenger hunt, Mama?” She glanced back over her shoulder in time to watch Lady Stanhope and Marigold exchange a wary look. Her stomach twisted. Her friends must have thought she was a baby. She was well aware they’d always considered her hopelessly unsophisticated, compared to them. And so she had been. But not anymore.
“Well,” her mother said, dodging the antique furniture to reach her side, eyes bright with excitement. “A variety of unusual items are placed throughout the grounds and gardens of the house. The guests are given a list of those items. They must form pairs with other guests and traverse the grounds to collect them.”
Lavinia didn’t need the glimpse of Marigold and Lady Stanhope’s expressions to understand that the point of the game was the pairs and the secluded corners of the gardens, not the objects ostensibly being searched for, as her mother seemed to think. “Very well,” she said. “Mama, I leave it to you to work with Mrs. Ainsworth and Mr. Bondar to choose items and locations for the objects. I will pair with Lord Shayles and—”
“No,” Marigold and Lady Stanhope said at the same time. They rushed across the room to plead with her.
“That man is far too dangerous,” Lady Stanhope said.
“So I’ve been told,” Lavinia replied with a wry twist to her lips. She could barely look at Lady Stanhope without imagining her so-called friend entwined in a passionate embrace with Armand.
It was clear from the stolid frown that creased Lady Stanhope’s brow that she could read Lavinia’s thoughts. “What’s in the past is in the past,” she said, regardless of Lavinia’s mother and Marigold standing on either side of them. “And if it makes you feel better, it was thirteen years ago. You were, I believe, twelve-years-old at the time?”
Lavinia bristled. “Mama,” she snapped, “would you please find out what is holding up our tea?” Mrs. Ainsworth couldn’t possibly have had time to make it so quickly, but giving her mother a reason to scold the servants was the best way to get rid of her.
“Yes, of course,” her mother answered, taking the bait.
As soon as she was out of the room, Lavinia rounded on Lady Stanhope. “I have always looked to you as a role model, Lady Stanhope. I have admired your independence and your boldness. But I am beginning to question whether my mother has been right all along about your morals.”
“Why?” Lady Stanhope asked, the widening of her eyes the only sign that Lavinia’s words had offended her. “Because I’ve lived my life on my own terms? Because I made the best of a bad situation and refused to let the strictures of society stop me from enjoying myself? Isn’t that exactly what you’ve always said you want for yourself?”
Lavinia jerked away from her, staring out the window and feeling as miserable as she ever had.
“This isn’t helping,” Marigold said, her voice calm. She stepped to Lavinia’s side, nudging her to sit in the cushioned window seat and sitting beside her. “Men all have pasts, dearest,” she went on, stroking Lavinia’s hand. “Especially those who have lived longer than us. Fortunately, we rarely discover who was involved in those pasts. But you shouldn’t hold it against Katya. The only reason we don’t all have pasts of our own is because of the rules we’ve imposed on ourselves.” Lavinia glanced up at her, biting her lip as she swallowed the truth. “I’m sure, if given half a chance, we’d all be as daring as Katya. But right now, that’s not the point.” She paused, taking Lavinia’s hand and squeezing it. “What happened? You were upset when we arrived, long before that horrible man said the things he said. What did we miss?”
All at once, the tears Lavinia had struggled so hard to keep inside burst. “He doesn’t want me,” she wept, dropping her head onto Marigold’s shoulder. “He’s planning to leave me and go to India. He didn’t even tell me until Dr. Miller mentioned it last night.”
To Lavinia’s surprise, Lady Stanhope huffed a laugh. “Armand has no more intention of running away to India than I have.” She sat on the window seat on Lavinia’s other side. “I doubt there even is a Dr. Maqsood.”
“A who?” Lavinia asked.
“Dr. Maqsood, from Mayo Hospital in Lahore,” Marigold said softly.
Lavinia’s eyes went wide. “So there is an actual doctor making the offer?”
“Armand is bluffing to get under Malcolm’s and the others’ skin,” Lady Stanhope said. “I had my girls look, and there is no Dr. Maqsood at Mayo Hospital.”
Lavinia barely heard her. “You knew all about this offer, and you never told me?”
“Because it doesn’t exist,” Lady Stanhope stressed.
“But you knew and I didn’t.” Lavinia sniffled, wiping her eyes and nose. “And that is the point.”
Lady Stanhope shook her head, rubbing Lavinia’s back. “The point is that men will never tell us anything without being prodded into it. They’re as dense as Christmas pudding. If you want something from Armand, you have to stand up and demand it.”
Lavinia stared at her, brow furrowed. She was still furious with Lady Stanhope, or at least she thought she was. “Am I supposed to stand up and demand that he love me?” she asked, trying to be as resolute as her mentor was, but feeling weak.
“Is that what you want?” Marigold asked. “For Armand to love you?”
Lavinia lowered her head, heat flooding her face. It seemed foolish to demand that a man she’d barely known up until a week ago love her. But the way things had been between them the morning before had been divine. Armand had made her feel free and cared for, and she’d never felt that way. It was like the bud of love had been nipped before it could bloom.
She sucked in a breath and lifted her head. “I don’t want him to spend the rest of his life resenting our marriage,” she said. “And I don’t want him to continuously apologize, as if marriage were a bout of ague or a carriage wheel stuck in the mud.”
“That’s more like it,” Lady Stanhope said, patting her back. “What else?”
“I don’t want him to stay at Broadclyft Hall, moping like a boy who has had his favorite toy taken from him. If he truly wants to go to India to practice medicine, then he should just go.”
“And leave you here to run his estate in his place?” Lady Stanhope suggested, arching one brow.
“Yes.” Lavinia nodded, although inwardly, her gut trembled at the overwhelming thought. “And as such, I have guests to entertain and a viper to subdue.”
She stood. As luck would have it, her mother returned to the room, a maid with a tray full of tea things behind her.
“Lavinia, I need you to take me on a tour of your gardens immediately after tea,” her mother said. “I have to know what sort of items to include on the scavenger hunt lists as well as where to hide them.”
“Certainly, Mama,” Lavinia said, crossing the room to pour tea for her friends. “We need to make this activity a true challenge for the gentlemen.”
Her concerns and heartbreak weren’t resolved, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Lavinia felt less like a wilting wallflower as she sipped her tea and listened to her mother prattle on about house parties she’d been to in her past. The important task of the afternoon was to enable Armand and the others to get their letter back. Her marriage would have to wait to be fixed. And as uncomfortable as she felt with her knowledge of Lady Stanhope’s connection to Armand, it didn’t take long for her to decide she didn’t want to know a
single further detail about whatever had been. She was determined to focus on Lady Stanhope’s advice to ask for what she wanted instead. Just not yet.
“This is so exciting,” her mother said a few hours later, as the entire house party gathered on Broadclyft Hall’s back yard. “I’ve made up lists for all of you of things you will be able to find on the grounds of the estate.” She nodded to the maid, Sophie, who glanced warily at Lord Shayles as though expecting him to assault her at any minute as she handed out lists. “Some of the objects can be found naturally in nature, but others are things from the house that have been specifically placed.”
“And what does the winner of this scavenger hunt receive?” Lord Shayles asked, eyeing Lavinia with a wolfish grin.
“How about a certain letter?” Lord Malcolm growled.
“I’d be willing to part with the letter if, in exchange, I can have what I want, should I win,” Lord Shayles replied, biting his lip at Lavinia.
“No.” Armand stepped between Lavinia and Lord Shayles, blocking the man from Lavinia’s sight.
Lord Shayles made a disappointed sound. “Come now, Dr. Pearson. If you want something valuable, you have to be willing to offer something valuable in return.”
“Valuable,” Armand said. “Not priceless.”
A whisper of hope swirled around Lavinia’s heart, but she pushed it away. She’d gotten her hopes up too many times in the last few days to indulge in hope now. Besides, they had a mission to accomplish.
She stepped around Armand, ignoring him as she addressed the others. “The winner of the scavenger hunt will have the privilege of walking into supper first this evening, regardless of order of precedence,” she said.
“Ooh.” Her mother clapped her hands together as though Lavinia had offered a pot of gold. “It makes me wish I was playing instead of organizing.”
“Lord Shayles,” Lavinia stepped closer to the man, fighting to hide the tremor in her hands. “Would you care to partner with me?”
