A Fine Caprice - A Regency Romance (25 page)

‘Hannaford h
as taken a room over the stables
as is fitting. You go shake him free from his bed and
I’ll get dressed and make tea.’

Caprice was relieved to hear that the housekeeper would
be rising
. Mrs. Flanne
l was a managing kind of female and if ever things needed managing, it was now. She was
the best sort of housek
eeper. The girl had expected the older woman
to ask all sorts of questions but she had restrained herself. Which was a relief, as Caprice didn’t have any answers.

As was often the case in large households, the males and females were allocated rooms that were quite separate from each other unless they were a couple in service
and gardeners, along with staff for the stables, were often close to where they worked
.
She herself had been moved since the housekeeper and ma
ids had arrived although she was still in the house
. She scurried out the back door, making her way to the stables, climbing the stairs
and hurrying through the
door. There were four small bedchambers leading off and it was not difficult to find which one Hannaford had taken,
for sonorous snoring drew her on.
He wa
s quite alone in the stables
, which was just as well, considering the noise he made.
She knocked on th
e door at first but this brought about
no response. The
snoring continued. After several attempts
, Caprice opened the door and marched inside.

‘Mr. Hannaford.’ she said, speaking loudly. Still the snoring.
He had not bothered to close the curtains and she could see his head tilted backwards, mouth open.
‘Mr. Hannaford!’

In the end, Caprice was forced to shake the man quite violently. He blinked up at her
for some moments uncomprehendingly. It took another minute at least to get him to understand what was required of him and he
then
nodded, yawning prodigiously.

‘That’d be Lord Barrymore, that would.’

‘Is he far?’

The man considered, scratching his nose. ‘About two miles, I’d say.’

‘Well sa
ddle one of the horse and go fetch
him directly. Lord Merridew is staying with the body but I daresay he won’t want to stay there all night.’ The very thought made Caprice shudder.

‘Right you are.’ He still appeared to be contemplating the news Caprice had brought. ‘Priss is it, you say? Well now… we wondered where that nasty devil had gotten to.
Hadn’t seen him in the Fiddle n’ Dog for quite some time.
’

‘Well he’s i
n the cellar
now
,’ Caprice said tartly, ‘so
it seems that he didn’t get
very far at all. Why do you call him a nasty devil?’

Hannaford shrugged. ‘Nobody liked ‘im. Sneaking ways, he had. Thought himself a cut above all those around him
and had a temper to boot
.
I allus sayed he’d come to no good.
’

‘
Your
prediction seems to have come true. H
e’s certainly been brought back to earth now.’ When the man didn’t move, she added impatiently, ‘Lord Merridew would like the magistrate here
quickly,
if you please.’ And then she left him to get dressed.

Having done what she could with Hannaford, she r
eturned to the
house and the kitchen where she
stood
hesitating. Should she go back down
to the cellar? She really didn’t want to. She kept seeing a pair of pale, glassy eyes
staring blindly
in her mind’s eye and it made her shudder every time. Perhaps she should make tea, get things moving. She set about lighting lanterns and shedding some welcome illumination. What time was it, anyway? It felt late but as she possessed no watch she had no way of telling.

She had just finished banking up the fire in the range in preparation for kettle boiling
when the back door opened and Bessant hurried into the room. He
paused
at the sight of her, eying
her with
his usual
hostile suspicion
. ‘What are you doing here
?’

What was
he
doing here, more like, coming in from the garden
at such an hour
. He had clearly been out and about for he wore a coat and his natural reddish complexion was even more flushed, as if he had been exerting himself. ‘Mr. Bessant,’ she said slowly, ‘where have you been?’

‘Never mind where I’ve been,’ the man replied coldly. ‘What are you doing up?’

‘Making tea.’

This most prosaic act seemed to throw him. ‘Making tea?’

‘Yes, I -’

‘What is going on?’

Both Caprice and Bessant turned to see Anna, the Grand Duchess’ maid, standing in the doorway clutching Minouche to her chest protectively. She looked scared
, large dark eyes enormous in her pinched face
.

‘Go back to bed,’ Bessant snapped at her.

‘But I heard voices. That woman is up…’

The woman in question was clearly Mrs. Flannel who
, with admirable timing,
chose this moment to join them. She was fully dressed, her iron-grey hair restrained in its customary bun
, black bombazine dress partly covered by an apron
. She eyed the people cluttering her kitchen with disapproval. ‘What are you
all
doing in here?’

‘I was making tea,’ Caprice said virtuously, pointing to the kettle. ‘At least, I’d put the water on for it.’

‘I’ll finish it off. You can take a cup down to his lordship.’

Caprice, who had been keeping half an eye on Bessant, heard his sharply
drawn breath. ‘Down to…? What’
s going on here?’

Mrs. Flannel eyed the man with disfavour. Clearly she had taken a dislike to him
, which made her an excellent judge of character as far as Caprice was concerned
. ‘Never you mind. You just get back to your master. There’ll be tea and sandwiches shortly.’

‘Tea and
sandwiches
?’ he repeated, as if the woman was speaking some strange dialect.

‘Off you go!’ the housekeeper made a shooing gesture to the valet. ‘You too, young miss. Back to your master and mistress
and take that animal with you
. The kitchen is no place for
it or
the likes of you
either
.’

‘But why the devil are you up?’ the man demanded, voice sharp.

‘Language, please.
I’ll ask you to
mind y
our manners. I’ve no time for impudence
.’

Bessant looked at Caprice as if he might get the answers off her but she merely gave him a sweet smile, enjoying his bewilderment and moved a little closer to Mrs. Flannel
whose large, motherly figure made a marvellous barrier against questions she would prefer not to answer. It might be
childish of her
to seek the protection of the housekeeper
but she didn’t like the man in the least and could hardly wait to tell his lordship that Bessant had been out and about
instead of innocently tucked up in his bed
. Maria’s other pair of eyes?

Anna
needed no prompting but
went readily, scurrying out of the room with the little dog for she was too timid a creature to stand up to the likes of the formidable Mrs. Flannel and Bessant went too, more slowly and with a hard, lingering look in Caprice’s direction that made the girl feel uneasy. Mr. Ravener certainly had a
very
unpleasa
nt manservant
. Had they sent the valet outside in case the visitor did not appear in whatever tunnel they were expecting him in? Had the man been keeping watch
outside?

She waited until the tea had been brewed, accepting two cups then, girding her mental loins, returned to the cellar. To her surprise it helped to be holding the cups as she focused fiercely on not spilling a drop as she made her way carefully down the stairs
, which helped to deflect her thoughts from what the cellars dark corners were sheltering
.

‘Is that you Jem?’

For a
man who had been stuck in a
cellar with a corpse, Lord Merridew sounded disgustingly cheerful.
Had the man
no
nerves?
‘It is. I have tea.’

‘Always welcome. Well it is if something stronger isn’t on offer. The magistrate?’

‘T
he gardener has gone to fetch him.’ She arrived at the bottom of the stairs and made her way to where Lord Merridew was sitting, not fifteen feet away. He had pulled down one of the chests and was sitting on it but rose as she came over to him. She very carefully did
not
look at the body in among the wine racks, but handed his tea over carefully.
‘A Lord Barrymore, apparently.’

‘
Excellent. And h
ow far
away is this Lord Barrymore
, did he say?’

‘It’s about two miles.’

‘Then we shouldn’t have too long a wait. If the man can stir himself out of bed. One can never tell with these fellows.’

Caprice thought of the local magistrate back home, a frequent visitor to Tannith Meadow. He had been elderly and as dry as a stick but courteous in that old-fashio
ned way previous generations seemed to have
. He presid
ed over local matters –
disputes over land borders or livestock ownership issues – once a week in summer and rather less so in winte
r and was allowed to be a fair man
. Heaven only knew what Lord Barrymore would be like but she hoped that, whatever he was, he would not take too long to arrive.

‘Bessant came in from the gardens when I was in the kitchen. He had clearly been out for some time.’

‘Had he now? No doubt in search of whoever our unexpected guest is.’

‘It’s all very odd,’ she took a sip of tea. Mrs. Flannel had made it sweet and strong and it tasted heavenly. ‘Is some French spy really worth all this effort?’

‘Oh yes,’ his lordship pulled another of the chests down, setting it beside his own. He gestured for her to sit down and they subsided together. ‘I’ve heard that it is an increasing problem, this trading of illicit information. Whoeve
r is arriving probably has something to sell or something to buy. Or both.
The world is changing, I’m afraid. More and more, shadowy figures run things behind the scenes.’

‘It sounds ridiculously complicated,’ Caprice
said doubtfully. ‘What a silly way to behave.’

Lord Merridew gave a soft laugh. ‘I would have to agree with you.’

That sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping tea.

‘Do you think that Mr. Ravener and the Grand Duchess will return this way?’

‘Not if they suspect the cellar is occupied. If they don’t I suppose they could come in via the road and the gardens.’

‘Bringing their guest with them?’

‘Possibly. Unless he decides it’s safer in the village.’ Lord Merridew was clearly annoyed by this possibility. ‘If that’s the case I might never discover who it is they’re bringing here. Or be able to prove that they are involved in espionage.’

‘Espionage?’ Caprice had never heard the word before.

‘A form of spying, or so I am reliably informed.’

‘Ah.’ Caprice mulled this over, taking another sip of tea. She was learning quite a lot about the world since arriving at Abbey Cross. Not that it would be a subject that she could discuss when she returned to her tame and – it must be admitted – occasionally tedious life as a lady of the
ton
. She could just imagine how some of her friends and acquaintances would react if she started to discuss the current state of spying in England!

Caprice shot a sideways glance at
her companion, eyes lingering on
the delightful profile, the firm lips and straight, patrician nose. He appeared to be deep in thought and Caprice felt something shift, deep inside her, twi
sting in an unfamiliar, rather
alarming way. The sensation seemed to occur somewhere just beneath her breastbone but it caused a flood of heat to s
pread through her body while pooling in the pit of her stomach. Like a fever but not quite… Really, it was the most disconcerting sensation and she dropped her gaze back down to the cup in her hand and tried to catch her breath, although why she should be breathless…

Oh no! Not this… this is far too much like Angelique described when she told me her feelings for the viscount. I don’t want to have feelings like that for Lord Merridew. I can’t have feelings like that for a man I can never have!