Deception (8 page)

“I should like that very much,” Olympia breathed.

“Good night, Miss Wingfield. I shall see you at breakfast.”

“Good night, Mr. Chillhurst.”

A shimmering sense of longing had welled up within Olympia as she accompanied Jared to the front door. She had stood watching as he walked off into the night and became one with it.

And then she had gone to bed and dreamed of being kissed by Jared on a beach scattered with pearls.

Now, in the bright light of day, she listened to him tell tales to her nephews and realized that Jared had very quickly become an important part of her small household. She was learning a great deal about this man who had the face of a pirate and she was finding that she liked him very much.
Too much perhaps
, she thought.

She must not forget that someday Jared would leave and she would again be alone with her library and no other adult companion with whom she could share the intellectual pleasures it contained.

At that moment Jared glanced up and saw her standing just inside the schoolroom. The corner of his mouth curved faintly.

“Good morning, Miss Wingfield. Was there something you wanted?”

“No, no,” Olympia said quickly. “Please carry on. I merely wished to observe the lesson.”

“By all means.” Jared indicated the globe. “We are studying geography this morning.”

“So I see.” Olympia took a step closer.

Ethan grinned. “We are learning all about the West Indies, Aunt Olympia.”

“And about a pirate named Captain Jack,” Robert added.

Jared cleared his throat slightly. “It should be noted that Captain Jack was a buccaneer, not a pirate.”

“What’s the difference?” Hugh demanded.

“Very little, in point of fact,” Jared said dryly. “But some people are quite insistent upon the distinction. Buccaneers sailed with a commission. In theory they were authorized by the crown or by local authorities in the West Indies to attack enemy ships. But it got rather complicated at times. Why was that, do you suppose, Robert?”

Robert straightened his shoulders. “Because so many different countries have colonies in the West Indies, I expect, sir.”

“Precisely.” Jared smiled approvingly. “Back in Captain Jack’s time there were English, French, Dutch, and Spanish vessels in the region.”

“And the buccaneers were not supposed to attack the ships and towns of their home countries, I’ll wager,” Ethan said. He frowned. “That would mean the English would have sailed against the French and the Spanish and the Dutch. The French would have attacked the English and the Spanish and the Dutch.”

“It does sound rather complicated,” Olympia said. She abandoned any pretense of being an interested observer of Jared’s instructional methods. She hurried across the room to join her nephews. “What was this about a venture across the Isthmus of Panama in search of treasure?”

Jared’s smile was slow and mysterious. “Would you care to join us while I tell the tale, Miss Wingfield?”

“Yes, indeed,” Olympia said. She smiled gratefully at Jared. “I should like that very much. I am quite interested in such tales.”

“I understand,” Jared said softly. “Come a little closer, Miss Wingfield. I would not want you to miss a single thing.”

Squire Pettigrew arrived at three o’clock that afternoon. Olympia was back in the library when she heard the clatter of the gig’s wheels in the drive. She rose from the desk and went to the window to watch Pettigrew alight from his carriage.

Pettigrew was a heavily built man in his late forties. At one time he had been accounted a handsome fellow and he continued to act as if every female in the neighborhood still found him irresistible. Olympia did not understand what anyone had ever seen in the squire.

The truth was, Pettigrew could be a dreadful bore although Olympia was much too polite to say so. She knew that she was probably not a very good authority on the subject. After all, she found the majority of the males in Upper Tudway extremely dull and uninspiring. Their pursuits and interests rarely coincided with hers and men did tend to lecture so to females. Pettigrew was no exception. As far as Olympia could ascertain, his chief passions consisted of hounds, hunting, and farming.

Nevertheless, she knew very well that she was indebted to him for handling her uncle’s periodic shipments and she was truly grateful for everything Pettigrew had done for her.

The library door opened just as Olympia sat down again. Pettigrew swaggered into the room. The strong scent of the eau de cologne he favored wafted ahead of him.

Pettigrew traveled quite frequently to London and took advantage of the opportunity to stay abreast of current fashion. This afternoon he was attired in a pair of trousers that were trimmed with an array of small pleats. His frock coat was extremely snug and cropped at the waist. The back of the coat fell in two long tails that reached his knees. Beneath it he wore an elaborately pleated shirt. His cravat was so high and rigid
that Olympia suspected it was held in place with some sort of stiffener.

“Good afternoon, Miss Wingfield.” Pettigrew gave her what was undoubtedly meant to be a charming smile as he walked toward the desk. “You’re looking very fine today.”

“Thank you, sir. Please sit down. I have some interesting news for you.”

“Do you indeed?” Pettigrew swept the long tails of his coat aside with a practiced motion of his hand and sat down. “I suspect you are about to tell me of your uncle’s latest shipment of goods. Never fear, my dear, I have already received word of it and stand ready to assist you, as always.”

“That is very kind of you, sir, but the good news is that I will no longer require your services for such matters.”

Pettigrew blinked rapidly several times as if he had a speck in his eye and then he went very still. “I beg your pardon?”

Olympia smiled warmly. “You have been extremely helpful, sir, and I am most grateful to you, but I cannot impose upon you any longer.”

Pettigrew frowned. “Now see here, Miss Wingfield, I do not consider it an imposition to assist you in disposing of those shipments. Indeed, I feel it is my duty to aid you. I would be remiss in my obligations as a friend and neighbor were I to allow you to fall into the hands of the sort of unscrupulous scoundrels who would not hesitate to take advantage of an innocent such as yourself.”

“You need not fear for Miss Wingfield,” Jared said very quietly from the doorway. “She is in good hands.”

“What the devil?” Pettigrew turned swiftly to face the door. He stared at Jared. “Who are you, sir? What are you talking about?”

“I’m Chillhurst.”

Olympia sensed a sudden tension in the air between the two men. She hastened to diffuse it by making introductions. “Mr. Chillhurst is my nephews’ new tutor. He has only been with us for a few days but already he has done wonders. The boys have been studying geography all morning and I’ll wager they now know more about the West Indies than any other boy in Upper Tudway. Mr. Chillhurst, allow me to present Squire Pettigrew.”

Jared closed the door behind himself and walked to the desk. “Mrs. Bird told me that he had arrived.”

Pettigrew’s gaze was fixed on the black velvet patch that covered Jared’s eye. Then he scowled at Jared’s bare throat and the open collar of his shirt. “Damme, man, you don’t look like any tutor I ever saw. What is going on here?”

Olympia was irritated. “Mr. Chillhurst most certainly is a tutor. A very excellent one. Uncle Artemis sent him to me.”

“Wingfield sent him?” Pettigrew shot her an annoyed look. “Are you quite certain?”

“Yes, of course, I’m certain.” Olympia strove for patience. “And as it happens, Mr. Chillhurst is skilled in financial matters. He has offered to act as my man of affairs. That is why I shall no longer be requiring your assistance in disposing of my uncle’s shipment, sir.”

“Your man of affairs.”
Pettigrew was dumbfounded. “Now see here, you don’t need a man of affairs. You’ve got me to look after your finances and such.”

Jared sat down. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “You heard Miss Wingfield, Pettigrew. She will no longer be requiring your services.”

Pettigrew shot him a scathing glance and turned back to Olympia. “Miss Wingfield, I have warned you often of the dangers of dealing with persons whose backgrounds you know nothing about.”

“Mr. Chillhurst is a perfectly respectable person,” Olympia said firmly. “My uncle would not have employed him to work in this household if he were not a man of excellent character.”

Pettigrew gave Jared a disparaging look. “Have you reviewed his references, Miss Wingfield?”

“My uncle took care of that sort of thing,” Olympia said.

Jared smiled coldly at Pettigrew. “I assure you, sir, there is no cause for concern. I shall see to it that Miss Wingfield realizes a fair profit off the goods her uncle sent to her.”

“And who’s to say what that fair profit is?” Pettigrew retorted. “Miss Wingfield will have no way of knowing if you take advantage of her, will she? She will have to depend upon your word in the matter.”

“Just as she has been forced to rely upon your word in the past,” Jared said softly.

Pettigrew drew himself up. “Are you implying anything, sir? Because if so, let me inform you that I will not tolerate it.”

“Not at all.” Jared tapped his fingertips together in a slow, silent drumroll. “Miss Wingfield tells me that she realized nearly two hundred pounds off the last shipment.”

“That is quite correct,” Pettigrew said stiffly. “And she was extremely lucky to get that much out of it. Why, if it had not been for my contacts in London, she would probably have received no more than a mere hundred or hundred and fifty pounds.”

Jared inclined his head. “It will be interesting to see if I can do as well on her behalf as you have done, will
it not? Perhaps I shall even be able to improve upon your efforts.”

“I say,” Pettigrew sputtered indignantly. “I don’t care for your attitude, sir.”

“Your opinion of me is neither here nor there, is it?” Jared observed mildly. “But I assure you that I will pay close attention to Miss Wingfield’s financial affairs. After all, she needs the money, does she not? A single woman burdened with the responsibility of three young boys can certainly use all the income she can get.”

Pettigrew’s heavy face turned an unpleasant shade of red. “Now see here, sir, I cannot allow you to take possession of Miss Wingfield’s goods without so much as a by-your-leave. You might very well up and disappear with them for all we know.”

“The goods have already disappeared, so to speak,” Olympia said. “Mr. Chillhurst had them sent off to London this very morning.”

Pettigrew’s eyes widened in astonished fury. “Miss Wingfield, surely you have not done anything so rash as to allow this man to whisk your goods out of Upper Tudway.”

Jared continued to tap his fingertips together. “They are safe enough, Pettigrew. They were dispatched under guard. A trusted acquaintance of mine will receive them when they reach London and see to their disposal.”

“Good God, man.” Pettigrew rounded on him. “What have you done? This is outright thievery. I shall inform the magistrate at once.”

Olympia jumped to her feet. “That is quite enough. Mr. Pettigrew, I am satisfied that Mr. Chillhurst has only my best interests at heart. I really do not wish to be rude, sir, but I must insist that you cease prattling on in such an insulting fashion. Mr. Chillhurst might take offense.”

“Yes.” Jared drummed his fingertips together and
looked as if he were contemplating the possibility. “I might.”

Pettigrew’s mouth worked for a moment but no words came out. Then he heaved himself up out of the chair and glowered at Olympia. “So be it, Miss Wingfield. If you choose to put your trust in a stranger rather than in a neighbor you have known for years, that is your affair. But I expect that you will regret this reckless piece of work. Your new tutor looks altogether too much like a bloody pirate to me and that’s a fact.”

Olympia was outraged. Jared was, after all, in her employ. It was up to her to defend him. “Really, Mr. Pettigrew, you go too far. I cannot allow you to speak in such a fashion to anyone on my staff. Good day to you, sir.”

“Good day, Miss Wingfield.” Pettigrew stalked to the door. “I only hope you have not lost a packet by trusting this … this person.”

Olympia watched the door until it closed behind Pettigrew. Then she risked a quick, awkward glance at Jared. She was relieved to see that he had stopped tapping his fingers together. She suspected that the mannerism did not bode well.

“I apologize for that unfortunate little scene,” Olympia said. “Pettigrew means well, but I believe he was somewhat insulted by the fact that I have turned my uncle’s shipment over to you to handle.”

“He called me a pirate.”

Olympia cleared her throat delicately. “Yes, but please do not take offense. He is not entirely to blame for making such a remark. Indeed, Mrs. Bird commented upon the resemblance earlier. There is something about you, sir, that does tend to put one in mind of a pirate.”

Jared’s mouth curved. “I am glad that you are able to look beneath the surface, Miss Wingfield.”