Emily Hendrickson (11 page)

“Um,” he replied, already drowsy.

“Sleep well.” It wasn’t necessary to speak in an undertone, as his lordship had returned to the world of sleep.

Elizabeth strolled to the fireplace, absorbing heat while indulging in a bit of reflection.

There were several prime suspects here. Lord Augustus, Egbert Percy, Filpot, Hadlow. Even the cook was not free from suspicion, Elizabeth thought with a grim smile, considering the deplorable meals at this house. She supposed she must include the innocuous Jeremy Vane, although she thought him unlikely. What could he possibly gain? Could there be anyone she had missed? Probably not. Egbert seemed the most likely, especially given David’s aversion to him. But then, David did not care for Jeremy Vane either. She sighed with vexation. Was there ever such a coil?

One thing she needed to do was to find a book to read to his lordship. Now that he remained alert for longer periods of time, she hoped to entertain him with suitable material. What would he like?

The door opened, and Egbert Percy stepped into the room.

Elizabeth gave the earl a worried glance before walking across the room to meet his nephew. She intended to prevent him, or anyone else, from disturbing the earl.

“May I assist you in some way, Mr. Percy?” She made certain to keep him standing close by the door.

“I wondered how my uncle did this morning.” He gave Elizabeth an uncomfortable look, and she wondered if that was the only reason he sought this room.

“Better, I think. He seems more alert, for one thing.” She glanced at Rose, hoping the maid received the message she silently conveyed. “I was about to go down for a cup of tea. Rose will keep watch here. Shall you join me?” She bestowed an inquiring look on Egbert, then gestured to the door.

“Of course,” he said politely.

It seemed that Egbert was not averse to playing the gallant. He placed her hand on his arm, chatting about the weather as they strolled down the stairs. Elizabeth felt quite in charity with him by the time they reached the vaulted corridor.

“Is there a garden out there in the summer?” Elizabeth inquired, studying the courtyard that was enclosed by the many-windowed corridor.

“Once there was. Lady Crompton had a fondness for flowers, I believe. Now there is naught but grass and a few bits of shrubbery.”

“What a pity. I fancy that a bed of colorful blooms would look quite cheerful on a warm summer day.”

Elizabeth guided him in the direction of the morning room in the back of the house, where Sidthorp had confided the earl’s late wife had enjoyed spending her time.

Catching sight of one of the maids, Elizabeth sweetly commanded her to bring tea into the morning room.

“Avoiding your betrothed this morning? I thought newly engaged women couldn’t wait to spend time with their sweethearts. It all seems dashed sudden to me.” Young Mr. Percy stationed himself by the fireplace, watching Elizabeth with a narrowed, and somewhat hostile, gaze.

Sensing she skirted dangerous ground, Elizabeth pretended to examine a lovely painted screen near the window before replying to his comment.

“But we are sweethearts,” she said, searching for a plausible reply. “We met in London, you know, at the Fenwick ball. I suspect it was love at first sight for both of us, at least it was for me. And I confess David seemed most enamored. Wherever I went after that, I seemed to discover him. He found me here in Surrey after I joined my aunt. How fortunate that she lives so close to his father. Most convenient for David and me.”

She neglected to mention the vast amount of time before he had again sought her company. After all, she was embroidering the truth a great deal, so what did it matter if she did it royally?

“I still say there is something dashed peculiar about the entire business. I had not the least notion he’d formed an attachment.”

“But then, you have never been in love, cousin,” came a rich, smooth voice from the doorway.

Lord Leighton entered the room, crossing to where Elizabeth stood. He surprised her by touching her on the chin with one finger, then placing a gentle kiss on her lips. It was like a whisper of fire on her skin, singeing her lips with danger.

She knew he sought to prove the validity of their connection to his cousin, but she wished he hadn’t kissed her. It stirred things best left alone.

“Good morning,” she said, deciding to pretend they hadn’t met earlier. “I trust it is agreeable that I have ordered tea. It is such a wretched day outside, and somehow tea always makes things better.”

“Most acceptable. After all, my dearest, you will reign here one day.” He settled down far too close to where she had sought a place on the settee. When he stretched his good arm out behind her, touching her back, she just barely refrained from jumping. That would never do—a proper bride to be did not flinch from the touch of her beloved.

“How do you feel? I notice you still use a sling.” She worried his arm was not improving. “Does Hadlow dress your wound properly as he ought?” She had a dim view of the valet’s nursing abilities.

“I do well enough. He does not have your delicate touch, however.” He shared a smile with her that sent tremors to her toes.

She noted the teasing twinkle in his eyes before he turned his gaze toward his cousin. Would she never remember that much of his behavior was due to his delight in teasing her? He could not be serious.

“Lingering about the house, Egbert? Thought you would be out on that new mare.”

“Too cold by far.”

“Ah, yes, the precarious health of the town beau.”

Elizabeth decided to interfere. “Your father does seem to be doing better today, does he not?” She hoped her voice didn’t squeak, but she feared it might, making her sound like a ninny.

“What’s that? Crompton better? By Jove, that is good news.” Accompanied by a creaking corset. Lord Augustus ambled into the morning room, seeking a chair next to the warmth of the fire. “Excellent, excellent. Best news I’ve had all day.” He wheezed as he settled down onto the depths of the high-backed chair, giving Elizabeth a beetle-browed stare. When she tensed, David dropped his hand on her shoulder, bestowing a slight pressure on her.

“ ‘Tis the
only
news you’ve had this day. Father,” Egbert said impatiently.

“What? Quite so, quite so. Nasty weather. Can’t think but what it snows before the day is out, what?” Augustus frowned as he moved his stare to the window.

“Miss Elizabeth will grace Penhurst Place with her presence for more than a day if that is the case. These roads become impassable at the least bit of snow, you know,” Egbert said, rather snidely, Elizabeth thought.

Jeremy paused in the doorway, a sheaf of papers in his hand. He gave David a hesitant look, then said most apologetically, “I’m afraid I need your signature on these, Leighton. With your father unable to run the estate, it dumps rather a lot on your shoulders.”

Elizabeth smiled warmly at the young man, liking his shy manners. “Will you not join us in a cup of tea, sir?”

The maid entered at that moment, apparently having anticipated the gathering, for there were sufficient cups and a plate of macaroons as well.

At a slight nod from David, Elizabeth poured the tea, added milk and sugar as wished, then thankfully sipped her own, after noting that David had to remove that disturbing arm from her shoulders in order to consume his brew.

“He is feeling much better this morning, you will be pleased to know.”

“How is that, Miss Elizabeth? From what I had heard, his lordship was sinking,” Jeremy said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. He sipped his tea, watching Lord Leighton with a wary eye. The batch of papers was tucked beneath one arm, and Elizabeth wondered how long they would remain there.

How ill at ease he was, to be sure, she thought. Poor fellow, he must feel overshadowed just to be in the same room with Lord Leighton. She believed she had detected a faint family resemblance, however. His eyes were a rather insipid hazel, not the rich, deep tone she saw when she chanced to be entrapped by Lord Leighton’s eyes. And Jeremy’s hair was straight as an arrow, rather than possessing the charming curl his cousin owned, but it was a shade of brown not too unlike his cousin’s.

“It is snowing out,” announced Lord Leighton to no one in particular.

Desiring to put some distance between herself and the man who disturbed her, Elizabeth rose from the settee and walked to the window to watch large white flakes drifting down from the sky.

Jeremy Vane dropped all the papers to the floor, and they scattered about the room.

“Oh, dear,” murmured Elizabeth. Quickly she placed her cup and saucer on a table, then assisted Jeremy in gathering them up. The poor fellow’s face had flamed with embarrassment at the accident.

“Here you are. Such a tedious matter on a pretty, if cold, day. Leases and settlements. Victoria has tended to those while my brother has been away.” She sighed, then caught an odd expression on Leighton’s face that stopped her speech.

“Give me the papers, and I shall go over them in the library. It wouldn’t do to get macaroon crumbs on them, would it?” Lord Leighton bestowed his lazy smile on all, then added, “Join me shortly, will you, Elizabeth? We have a small matter to discuss, if you please.”

“Of course, David.” She recaptured her cup, pouring a bit more tea for something to do with her hands while she thought. Jeremy had merely requested that David sign the papers, an administrative thing. Why was he placing the young man in an awkward spot by going over those papers? Surely he trusted his cousin to do his best.

Then she recalled how her aunt checked every piece of paperwork before signing anything, claiming she felt it best to know what went on under her nose. Elizabeth relaxed. David was trying to learn more about the estate, nothing more. But the very idea that he would treat his cousin like a mere employee bothered her.

Leaving Lord Augustus and Egbert to argue about how long the snow might continue, Elizabeth left the room. At the door to the library, she paused, then rapped sharply. The door opened before she could drop her hand.

“Good, you came promptly.”

Elizabeth followed David over to the desk, wondering what this was all about.

“That young fool ought to know that I cannot sanction the authorization of these leases. It would be illegal. What kind of a spot is he trying to place me in, anyway?”

“I do not understand.”

“Although I am the heir, it is not my privilege to approve these—according to my settlement—unless my father specifically allows it. He has not to this date. And I will not approach him about it at this time.” David gave her a warning look lest she urge him to do just that.

“Perhaps you should talk with him about it?” she said anyway.

“And make him feel as though I believe he is about to snuff it?”

“I see.” But she didn’t, actually. She wondered if David was just trying to get at his cousin, whom he appeared to dislike excessively.

Seeking to change the subject, she said, “Do you have a copy of a good herbal in the house? Culpeppers perhaps? Or that new one, the
Family Herbal
by John Thornton? Aunt Bel has a copy and I think it quite good, for it deals with the medical properties of our English plants. Bewick has done excellent engravings which I very much admire,” she concluded, wishing she might do such a volume herself someday.

He gave her an arrested look. “You believe there might be a clue in such a book?”

“ ‘Tis possible,” she admitted.

David rose from the chair by the fire to wander along the shelves, touching a volume now and again.

Elizabeth joined in the search, hunting for either volume or anything like them.

He was awkward with only one hand and couldn’t easily pull out books. She thought she could be of help if there was one he wanted to see, so she remained at his side.

Elizabeth noted various interesting volumes and pulled one out, thinking it might be good to read to the earl. As she did, another book fell to the floor. It proved to be a slim little volume.

“An Essay into the Operation of Poisonous Agents upon the Living Body,”
they read in soft unison, both horrified at the implications that began to hit them.

A chill crept over Elizabeth, and she shivered.

“Quite new, isn’t it? Was your father interested in such as this?”

“Not that I know,” David replied, meeting her eyes in an apprehensive frown. The teasing lights were gone now.

Egbert popped his head in to see what kept Elizabeth. “It’s time for nuncheon, you two. Had a lover’s spat?” His face wore a maliciously gleeful look, and Elizabeth longed to toss the book at his head.

“Merely looking for something to read later on. If I must spend the night here, I would enjoy a novel,” she said instead.

He looked unconvinced, but could say nothing in the face of her declaration.

“Time we had some nourishment, my love,” David added. He unobtrusively tucked the slim volume in his sling. Then he drew Elizabeth along with him by the simple means of placing his arm protectively around her shoulder.

She supposed he said that for Egbert’s benefit, although what possible difference it made whether his cousin accepted their betrothal or not, she didn’t know.

“I believe I shall look in on your father first, if you do not mind. After all, I am here to nurse, not chat with you two. Rose will need a moment to herself as well. Please go ahead without me, for I might be awhile.”

Elizabeth slipped from the room, leaving David and Egbert staring after her as she hurried down the hall and around the corner. With any luck, she could avoid the meal entirely.

The earl’s bedchamber looked pleasant and warm, with the soft light flooding the room. Outside, a white world made it seem as though the room floated in space. It looked rather eerie, and Elizabeth rushed into speech.

“You had best get something to eat. Rose. But first, could you fetch me a shawl from my room? It is not precisely chilly, but the very thought of snow makes me cold.”

“So, you return.”

Whirling about, Elizabeth discovered the earl watching her. “You are awake!”