Drake's Lair (7 page)

“Only a means of escape,” she sallied.

“‘Escape’? Now there’s an interesting word, but all right, enough sparring. Please sit back down and give me the courtesy of hearing me out.”

Melly scowled, and after a moment sank slowly back into the chair she’d vacated.

“Now then,” he began. “I understand that you inherited the cottage in the vale from your cousin, Calliope Dane. Is that correct?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Is the land free and clear… unencumbered? That is to say, do you own the property outright?”

“Yes, my lord, but what concern is that of yours?”

“I wish to buy it,” he said flatly.

“But there’s nothing left of it!” she cried.

“The land, my lady. I’m interested in the land. That tract is adjacent to another of my holdings, and I wish to join them. I’ve been considering making a bid of purchase for some time… since before I left for Spain.”

“It isn’t for sale,” she said frostily.

“I’m prepared to offer say… fifty pounds?”

“F-ift…?”

“A hundred, then, but not a halfpenny more. I’m not Golden Ball Hughes you know.”

“For a burnt-out shell of a house on a tract of blighted land? Nothing will grow there, my lord. How will you profit?”

“I was thinking of having Will Terrill assess the soil properties. He’s certainly knowledgeable enough. I’ve no complaints with the way he’s prospered his croft. I thought perhaps a crop rotation, new soil… whatever. I’m no farmer, my lady, but he is, and I totally trust his judgment.”

Melly stared. This was the last thing she expected. There was no question that she could use the hundred pounds, but she couldn’t help suspecting that there was an underlying motive behind the offer.

“I wanted to discuss it before my accounts auditors from the bank arrive, so that I might have a contract drawn up,” he went on through her silence.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she murmured.

“Good. At least that’s not a qualified ‘no’. I would, of course, rebuild the cottage, and you could, if you wished, take occupancy once it’s built. That is, you would have first option to occupy the place, and I think you would find my terms more than reasonable.”

“May I ask you a question, my lord?” she said.

He nodded. Leaning back in his chair, he raked his wavy hair away from his brow. He’d done that more than once since she entered the study, evidently unaccustomed to the new short hairstyle. In the darkened study it looked as it did when she’d first seen him, more black than chestnut. She also decided that the style became him, though she’d sooner choke on her tongue than stroke his vanity.

“I wish to know why you were so opposed to my gathering herbs along the beck?” she said.

“That doesn’t concern you,” he said, clouding suddenly. His voice changed as well. It had become the phantom’s voice, gravelly and dark, just as it was that first day.

The man had a secret. A
secret
? All at once Rosen’s words ghosted across her mind:
You have an enemy
—
someone who doesn’t seem so.
He has a secret
…

“You must have a reason, my lord, to begrudge someone whose livelihood depends upon them a scant handful of plants nobody wants from the ground.”

“A very valid reason, my lady. Aside from the trespass issue, it is my wish that there be no herb gathering on Drake’s Lair. Those deuced weeds would be gone by now but for this flaw, and will be as soon as the wind dies down; I’ve already instructed my groundskeeper in the matter.”

“But—”

“We seem to have strayed from the issue,” he interrupted coolly. “Mills, one of the auditors I’m expecting, is also the bank solicitor. Shall I have him draw up the contract? No one else is going to offer for that land, my lady, and even if by chance someone did, it would never net you anywhere near a hundred pounds. You’d be fortunate if you garnered thirty-five. I’m sure you know that.”

She gave it thought. He was right, of course. He’d offered three times what the land was worth. In fact, she felt like a thief even considering it. But she was penniless, with nowhere to go except the Tinkers camp, now that he’d pointed out that the Terrills, which would have been her first choice, was hardly practical. Still, what would she do in the meantime?

“You may stay on as my houseguest meanwhile,” he drawled, as though he’d read her mind. And they called
her
a witch. “You will need an abigail, of course,” he went on drolly. “You may engage your own, or choose from one of the maids among my staff. Zoe comes to mind as a suitable choice, at least until you can engage someone of your own choosing. Accommodations will be provided for whomever you decide upon in the adjoining dressing room of your suite. And, of course, you are already acquainted with my housekeeper. She is quite taken with you, and you can rest assured that she will see to your every comfort. It goes without saying that all proprieties will be strictly observed.”

“It’s way too much, my lord, your proposition. I… I couldn’t allow—”

“Of course you could,” he interrupted. “I insist. It shan’t take long to raise the cottage, a month at the most if the weather allows, and then you will be on your own.”

“Why are you doing this? You hardly know me.”

“As I told you, it will complete my holdings in that quarter. And that I am able to rescue a lady in distress in the process appeals to my cavalier instincts. You do, of course, have other options. No one is twisting your arm, as it were. If you do not wish to avail yourself of my hospitality, you could apply to the almshouse if they haven’t filled their quota. You certainly fit the criteria. You’d need a sponsor among the trustees, of course, to apply in your behalf. You’d have to consult the vicar about that. And then… there are always the workhouses. Quite frankly, I don’t see you among the Tinkers. The decision, however, is entirely your own, of course. Don’t let my opinions sway you.”

Devilish clever fellow was the Earl of Shelldrake. There
were
no other options except to take his offer, to do otherwise would brand her a certified Bedlamite. And he knew it. She stood to lose the land in any case, with no money to pay the taxes. There was nothing for it but to accept, and she got slowly to her feet, bringing him to his, with the desk between them.

“Very well, my lord,” she said levelly, though her knees threatened to betray her, “since you insist, I accept your offer, but you may as well know, I think you quite mad.”

“Good,” he said buoyantly. “I hoped that you would—accept my offer—that is. As soon as the auditors arrive, I shall see that a contract is prepared, all subject to your approval, of course. Will you accept my hand to seal the bargain?”

She hesitated. Physical contact with this strange dark earl frightened her somehow. Her tiny fingers, which had balled themselves into clammy fists, slowly uncoiled, and after a moment she extended her hand, albeit hesitantly.

He skirted the desk, and to her surprise took it in his, turned it, and raised it to his lips. They were warm, lingering longer than she deemed proper, considering that he took the liberty without an invitation to do so. What those lips upon her skin did to her innermost regions was scandalous. Like a swarm of butterflies trying to vacate her stomach by way of heretofore virgin territory, and she pulled her hand away, though that did nothing to divert the course of the sexual stream flowing between them. It undermined her footing, and she covered her stagger with a quick curtsy, and fled.

Six

Drake was closeted with bank auditors Samuel Bradshaw and Elias Mills most of the day. Ellery had not returned, and the lamps were lit early due to the storm, which showed no signs of letting up. Bradshaw, the elder banker, finally closed the last ledger at half-past five. It was nearly full dark, the only sounds, aside from the howling wind, were Elias Mills’s quill scratching on parchment at the bookcase secretary in the corner, as he prepared Demelza’s contract, and the mournful ticking of the mantle clock.

“Do you want me to notify the constabulary?” Bradshaw said tight-lipped.

“No, no,” Drake replied, with a wave of his hand. “I expected as much. We won’t know how bad things really are until I’ve made the rounds.”

“When will you go, your lordship?” the auditor inquired.

“After the flaw. Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll deal with it. I don’t want Bow Street mixing in this.”

“I’m so dreadfully sorry, my lord,” the auditor returned. “I feel it’s our fault. We should have been more diligent. I shouldn’t blame you if you dismissed us forthwith.”

“Nothing of the sort,” said Drake. “
I
wouldn’t have even caught it if it weren’t for the Terrill’s collapsed roof. This was very cleverly plotted. I need to make a thorough inspection of all my crofts before I act. It’s a piddling amount measured against the whole, but that’s not the issue. It cannot be allowed to continue. I will get back to you with my findings. Meanwhile, you have a list of our current staff members’ names so that there is to be no question. If that changes, I will inform you at once. Personally. We shan’t be paying out any more monies to terminated servants at least.”

“What about Mr. Ellery, my lord?”

“Nothing. He isn’t to know.”

“But, my lord!”

“I will confront him once I have the whole picture, Mr. Bradshaw, you can bet your blunt upon it. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to hoist him with his own petard. I don’t mind telling you how that pains me. I’ve known Jim Ellery since our school days.”

“I must say you’re taking this awfully well, my lord. I would be beside myself.”

Taking it well?
On the outside, perhaps, inside it was as though someone had driven a sword through his heart. That James Ellery would deliberately steal from him was unfathomable, and yet it was fact. It was all there in the ledgers, albeit cleverly disguised. Was it hindsight that made him send a missive to summon the auditors the minute he’d set foot on English soil, or premonition? Or was it that he knew deep down but didn’t want to admit that the friend of his Corinthian days was possessed of a larcenous heart?

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been warned. His father, Alexander Hannaford, had been the first to make the assessment that Ellery was a hanger-on, looking to ride the
ton
on Drake’s coattails. He’d rarely paid attention to his father’s opinions—not after the lecherous old man took up with his mistress before his mother’s body was cold, and left him, a boy of sixteen, to fend for himself.

Alexander Hannaford was hardly the only observer of Ellery’s ulterior agenda, however. A number of Drake’s peers had pointed it out as well—even some of the women they shared had warned him. Was that happening again? He wasn’t really ready to admit it, but he was undeniably attracted to Demelza. Evidently Ellery was as well. Was he attracted simply because he knew Ellery was, or was he actually in danger of falling in love—something he’d thus far managed to avoid like the plague? The only reason he questioned his feelings in that regard was because they were… different than they had been in the past where women were concerned, and uncomfortable.

Too much had come crashing down upon him too quickly for him to concentrate with a clear head on anything then. The paramount issue at hand was that his closest friend had extorted money from him while he was fighting on the Peninsula—lying wounded—on the verge of death, a friend whom he had trusted with his earldom while he went off to war. Ellery not only didn’t expect him to return, he was evidently hoping he wouldn’t. He had, after all, provided for the steward quite handsomely in his will. Anger, disappointment, and hurt roiled in him then, but it was intelligence that spoke.

“I cannot afford to be ‘beside myself’—at least not openly if I am to see this through,” he said. “There are extenuating circumstances,” he added, thinking of Demelza then, “and if I am to come out of this with the advantage, I cannot afford to show my hand… yet.”

“Forgive me, my lord, but this contract,” Bradshaw said, exhibiting the parchment that Mills had just put in his hand, “are you certain? It isn’t a wise investment. I would be remiss if I didn’t make you aware. The figures are shockingly overblown. Are you certain you want to do this at this time without making the proper assessments on the land’s potential beforehand?”

Should he confide in the auditor? Would the man think him mad? Hah! He already did, judging by his tone. Yes. It was expedient that someone be aware of his motives in the matter… just in case. He couldn’t confide in Demelza, and now he certainly couldn’t confide in Jim Ellery as he would have done in the past.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” he said, “the young lady in question has fallen upon hard times. Her father squandered her fortune, then killed himself, and left her with pockets to let. She was obliged to take up residence with a distant cousin at the cottage in question, then, when the woman died, she inherited it, and the surrounding land. Last night, the cottage burned to the ground. Lady Ahern now has no blunt, and nowhere to live.

“I treated her rather boorishly when I returned. I would like to make it up to her, but she is very proud, and if I offered her a loan, I know she would refuse me in favor of taking up residence with the Tinkers. She hasn’t the funds to pay the property taxes on the land, and she will surely lose it in any case. I plan to rebuild the cottage, sweeten the acreage with new soil, and turn it in to a paying croft, which she may rent from me if she chooses.”

“But, my lord, such a sum!”

“It is what she needs to set her on her feet… and give her back her dignity as a gentlewoman.”

“You are a very generous man, Lord Shelldrake.”

“I’m a practical man, Mr. Bradshaw. That tract will complete my properties in the immediate western sector. As a long-term investment, I believe it will turn a profit. In the meantime, it will help an unfortunate lady who, through no fault of her own, has found herself swimming at low tide. It should be a mutually advantageous venture.”

“I beg your pardon, is this to your satisfaction, my lord?” Mills interrupted, nodding toward the parchment he’d drafted.