Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] (8 page)

"Hmmph. You sound like you are defending him."

She fastened the last of the buttons and tucked the errant wisps of hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck. Then, after straightening the tucks of her bodice, she reappeared with the breeches and linen shirt neatly folded and tucked under one arm. "It is not a matter of defending him, it's that I cannot fault him for caring about what is best for you."

Max pulled a face and said something unintelligible under his breath. But his thoughts quickly came back to the matter at hand. "How is it that you know how to climb a tree or scale a wall? All of the young ladies of my acquaintance would fall into a fit of vapors if required to perform anything more arduous than lifting a teacup. I mean, Miss Cranbrook and her younger sister nearly fainted when I suggested they join me in a raid on Farmer Wilmot's orchard."

"I am not a lady," Allegra reminded him. "A fact for which I am eternally grateful," she added in a low voice. "Ladies have a great many rules and constraints on their behavior. They are not encouraged—or even allowed—to indulge in such hoydenish ways. My childhood allowed a good deal more freedom, despite being the daughter of a vicar." She smiled at the recollection. "The neighboring children of my age were mostly boys, so I learned to keep up if I wanted to be part of the adventures." She smiled at the recollections. "I assure you, I filched my share of apples."

Max grinned in answer but then his expression turned serious as he mulled over her words. "I hadn't thought about it overly, but it doesn't sound as if things are quite as fair for females."

"Ah, welcome to the ways of the Polite World," she said with a touch of asperity.

The lad looked slightly abashed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you." Allegra let out a heavy sigh. "That's actually very perceptive of you. No, many things are not fair, as you will soon see when you make your first forays into Society. But you will be shielded from most of them by the fact that you are a male and have both title and wealth."

Max's brows knitted together. "I suppose it is understandable that you dislike anyone with wealth and privilege, but surely not all of the
ton
are unprincipled. I mean, Father is not like Lord Sandhill in the least."

"No, but even your father is well used to getting what he wants. He brooks no opposition to his will."

"He is not so unreasonable as you imagine," said Max. "When I disagree, he is always willing to listen to me."

Allegra regretted her earlier cynicism. The lad would learn of the real world soon enough." Well, perhaps your father is different," she conceded in order to put a period to the conversation. But she doubted it, she added to herself.

Chapter 4

Wrexham shifted restlessly in the oversized leather chair. His eyes fell away from the printed page and watched the flames flicker towards embers. It was late, but somehow he didn't feel ready to retire. His leg ached from a long day spent in the saddle and the nagging discomfort would no doubt keep sleep at bay, at least for a time. Yet something else was bothering him, something he couldn't quite lay a finger on. Normally he was more than content to spend the evening engrossed in his books, but of late the words lay cold and meaningless on the stark white paper.

He laid the volume aside with a sigh of exasperation and rose. The notion of a trip to London was becoming more and more appealing. Perhaps a change of scene would alter his flat mood. Not that he was unhappy, he reminded himself, but perhaps too much of the same thing was making him a trifle... bored.

He opened the inlaid box on his desk and took out a thin cheroot. The night was still pleasant and it was evident by the soft wash of silvery light over the gardens that the stars and moon were clearer than usual in the northern sky. The earl walked to the drawing room and threw open the french doors. A stroll in evening air would be just the thing for improving his frame of mind.

A puff of smoke wreathed around the furled buds of a climbing rose as he lit up and gazed out over the carefully tended plantings to the rolling lawns and distant moors looming up behind the manor house. His feet left the graveled path and his boots moved noiselessly over the thick grass as a chorus of crickets broke the stillness and the low boxwood hedge rustled in the light breeze.

It was inordinately peaceful, he thought as he turned the corner to the east wing of the house. He enjoyed the sounds of the country over the clatter of wheels on cobblestones and the shouts and curses of the crowded city streets. Still, it would only be for a short time, and Max would be ecstatic to visit London.

His eyes strayed up to his son's window as a fond smile ghosted over his lips. It was dark tonight, though many times he had noted the faint glow of a candle that revealed he was not the only one who spent half the night with his nose buried in a book. At least now the lad seemed to be getting the intellectual challenge that he craved.

Wrexham's gaze drifted over the long expanse of stone to Mrs. Proctor's room. It, too, showed no sign of life. He felt another twinge of conscience at the thought of turning her out despite the excellent job she had been doing. It was for the best, he assured himself. Max would be better suited with a male tutor and the young widow would be more comfortable in a different situation. He would make sure that his man of affairs gave her sterling references...

The cheroot nearly slipped from his lips as he saw a booted leg swing over the sill of her window. A figure clad in a thick jacket and breeches scrambled out onto the ledge, took hold of the thick vines growing up the side of the carved limestone and began to climb down. If he hadn't been so nonplussed he might have chuckled.

Was the prim, proper Mrs. Proctor engaged in a liaison with one of his grooms or gardeners? She was, after all, a widow and allowed a good deal more leeway than an innocent girl. And by the way her green eyes could flash with fire, he had sensed there was more than ice lurking beneath her steely reserve. Still, he could not tolerate such illicit behavior from his employees. He would have to deal firmly with her in the morning. At least now he had an adequate reason for terminating—

The earl's jaw dropped even lower as he caught movement at Max's window. Another dark form began to descend to the ground. His initial shock turned to seething anger as he looked once again at the figure climbing down from Mrs. Proctor's window and realized it was no man.

How could he have been blind to the fact that the worthless baggage was indeed bent on seducing his son? Her acting ability certainly rivaled that of Mrs. Siddons, for he wouldn't have believed it possible if he hadn't seen it with his very eyes!

He stood absolutely still as the two of them dropped to the ground and met for a hurried conference beneath a bower of ivy. As they began to move off, keeping to the shadows of the tall privet hedge, the earl ground out his cheroot beneath his heel and, with a string of silent oaths, started after them. As he fumed, he couldn't help but wonder what they were up to—surely a tryst could have been arranged without going to the trouble of sneaking out into the wilds of Yorkshire, especially since he had played the fool and been blithely ignorant of what was going on beneath his very nose.

It gave him some little gratification that perhaps Max felt a reluctance to betray the trust shown in him within the Hall itself. The direction turned towards the stables. So that was it, thought the earl with a curl of his lip. An empty stall, a roll in the hay. He could hardly blame the lad, he supposed. He was reaching an age when it was only natural to feel... certain urges, even more so if urged on. It was the widow he wanted to shake until her teeth rattled.

The two figures up ahead swung one of the doors of the stable open just a crack and disappeared inside. Wrexham stopped for a moment as he debated what to do next. He wasn't sure he wanted to humiliate his son by catching him with his breeches down around his knees in his first attempt at being a man. He wasn't so far into his dotage that he couldn't imagine what that would be like. But on the other hand...

His breath came out in a sigh.

Good lord, it was deucedly difficult to be a father at times.

As Wrexham pondered his predicament, the door opened again and his son and his companion came out leading two horses. His brows came together in puzzlement as he noticed the heavy bag tied to the back of one of the saddles. They came close enough to where he was standing hidden in the shadows that he could catch their whispered words.

"I think it better that we lead the horses some distance down towards the lake before mounting," said Max. "That way, we won't risk waking the grooms."

The other figure merely nodded an assent.

With his curiosity as well as his anger piqued, the earl slid into the stable as soon as they had moved away. It would take him only a few minutes to have Ulysses ready, and he knew in which direction they were going.

So much for a simple stroll in his gardens.

* * *

Allegra and Max tethered their mounts in a copse of trees they had picked out the previous week. She took the small lantern out of the bag while he slung the thick coil of rope over his shoulder. In his youthful eagerness, he was nearly sprinting towards their destination, and Allegra had to place a hand on his shoulder to temper his energy.

"Have a care," she cautioned. "We cannot afford a mistake."

He nodded and immediately slowed his steps. As they approached the garden wall, he gently tested the iron gate. As they suspected, it was locked. Allegra removed a thin oilskin packet from the pocket of her jacket and drew out a thin length of metal. She inserted it into the rusted lock and after a few jiggles, the deadbolt slid loose with a satisfying snick.

"How did you learn to do that?" whispered Max in amazement.

She grinned. "I shall explain it to you later." She pushed at the gate very slowly and it opened with little noise. "We could have used the rope here as well, but we may welcome a faster means of exit."

After surveying the gardens for any sign of activity, she motioned for Max to follow her inside. They reached the wall below the library window without incident. Allegra gazed up at the smooth expanse of stone while Max shook out the length of coils. From their observations, they knew there was no vines or tree to provide an aid to their ascent. There was, however, ridge of slate tiles set above one of the upper bay windows that could provide an anchor for the iron prong at the end of their rope.

Max weighed the heft of his line for a moment, then made the first toss. The prong failed to catch and clattered back to earth with what seemed like an inordinate amount of noise.

Allegra winced.

"Sorry," muttered Max as he gathered the rope for the next try.

They waited a moment to make sure no outcry was forthcoming, then she signaled for him to go ahead. "I doubt we shall get many trys," she whispered aloud, though she knew from his grim expression he was as aware of that fact as she was.

This time, the claws lodged in between the pieces of slate. With an audible sigh of relief, Max tested its hold. The prong didn't budge, even under the full pull of his weight. He yielded the rope to Allegra with obvious reluctance.

"I still say I could help you search faster," he said in a low voice.

"We agreed that you would stay here and keep watch."

"I know, but think on it. Even if I do see someone, precious little good that will do. You would never have time to get out. I could be of much more assistance if I come with you."

Allegra hesitated. She forbore to reply that he, at least, would have ample time to make his escape if he stayed on the ground. But what he said made good sense. "You promise to do exactly as I say?"

He nodded vigorously.

"Very well. But I go up first, and when I say we must leave, you will do so without argument."

"I promise."

With one last tug on the rope, Allegra started up the wall.

* * *

An incredulous expression spread over Wrexham's face as he watched his son scale the wall of his neighbor's manor and disappear into the second story window. He had left his horse near the others and followed their steps through the unlocked gate into the formal gardens behind Westwood Manor.

Who the devil was she, to add housebreaking to his son's curriculum? More to the point, what the devil were they up to? He couldn't imagine that Max would be tempted into such transgressions by mere money. The lad received a generous allowance, which he only seemed to use for books. No, the little hussy must have lured him into this with the promise of something other than material gain.