Emily Hendrickson (17 page)

“I understand that Lord Crompton requested that you remove yourself to London, or wherever you chose to live. Yet you choose to remain. How decidedly odd. One would think a gentleman would wish to take himself elsewhere were he not wanted.” She’d had enough of his vitriolic words. Time to let him know that she was not the milk and water miss he might think her. “Unless he is at point non plus and has no alternative but throw himself upon the mercy of a relative. In which case, one would also think he would conduct himself with amiability.”

He bowed, as one hit. “True. When illness struck my uncle, I could not leave. Such callous disregard for the head of the family would be ill received.”

“Ah, yes,” she agreed, “Society esteems a
respect
for family ties.”

His mocking inspection served to bring a blush to her cheeks, one she considered slight, thankfully. “If you will excuse me,” she said pointedly, wishing him gone, preferably to the ends of the earth.

“Ah, it would be most ill bred of me to permit a guest in the house to be at loose ends. Allow me to be your guide, as it were.”

There was no David to rescue her from his attentions, unwelcome as they were. Elizabeth bowed to the inevitable, acquiescing to his company. He led her past the library toward the front of the house.

“And this is the study, a small room you’ve not yet seen, I feel sure.”

“Charming.” Elizabeth paused in the door to the lovely little room. It would be an ideal place for the woman of the house to keep her accounts. From the desk she could gaze across her beautiful gardens to the forested hills beyond. She also would have an excellent view of the drive that approached the house, thus appraised of company long before the estimable Sidthorp could find her.

“You actually feel you might be able to settle in this house, so far from the delights of the city?” Egbert gave a faint shudder, picking an imaginary piece of lint from his coat sleeve with exaggerated care.

“You
are here, are you not? And you appear to be surviving nicely. Besides, one could arrange picnics at Box Hill, and Brighton is not all that far away—nor is London, for that matter. It is not the ends of the earth, sirrah.” Her derisory glance pinned him in his place for a moment before she swept past him along the hall back to the central portion of the house. He followed close behind her.

“My, my, the little angel has a forked tongue,” he whispered in that sarcastic way he had.

“I do not speak with such. However, I cannot say the same for others.”

At that moment Lord Augustus ambled toward them, corsets creaking louder than usual. “Ah, Miss Elizabeth. How goes my brother this day?”

She opened her mouth to suggest that he visit his brother, when the realization that Lord Augustus might well have a motive for wishing his brother in the grave. It could not be agreeable for him to be a charity guest at his brother’s home. Aunt Bel had breezily informed Elizabeth that Lord Augustus Percy had not a feather to fly with. How Egbert managed to finance his foppish attire on such meager expectations provided additional suspicion.

“I assure you that your brother improves daily,” Elizabeth managed to say at last.

“Good, good. Tolerates me now, you know. Were once the best of friends,” he reminded. He sighed gustily, his corset sounding perilously like it neared the breaking point.

Not wishing to become involved in family wrangling and intrigues, she merely nodded, looking about her for a means of escape.

“Would you excuse me, gentlemen? Mr. Vane promised to find some papers for me.” With that vague pretext, and pleasant murmurs of regret, she slipped away from them, drifting down the hall to where she suspected Mr. Vane still lurked in his little den, much like a spider spinning his plans for the estate.

“ ‘Tis time for nuncheon, Mr. Vane. Do you not join us? I vow, I shall be quite displeased if I must bear the company of Lord Augustus and Mr. Percy alone.” She grinned at him, feeling quite in charity with the unassuming young gentleman.

He turned a pleased pink, nodding. “I shall be there.” When she lingered, he went on, “Is there anything else?”

“That family tree. I should like to see it, if I may.” She hoped her voice sounded sufficiently wistful to prod him to action. How provoking if he again kept her from seeing so simple a thing. Although what it would accomplish, she was not sure.

He said nothing about not knowing where it was this time, but went directly to a drawer from which he extracted a large, much folded sheet of paper. It almost seemed as though he had anticipated her return and had hunted it up for her.

“The details are written in those books up there on the shelf. This is the illustrative drawing representing the various lines of the family. The Percys may lay claim to an extraordinary and illustrious background.” He smiled, but she noted that it did not reach his eyes.

He lovingly unfolded the paper, then began to point out the diverse lines of the family, how they were linked by marriage to many of the great houses in the land. It made her very aware that a Dancy, not withstanding she was the daughter of a baron, had scarcely the noble background to become the wife of the future Earl of Crompton. Not when one studied the lineage of past Percys.

Elizabeth stood at Jeremy Vane’s side, studying the paper while beginning to appreciate all that had gone into creating her rake. Small wonder he carried himself like a lord of the land. He was one.

“I am exceedingly impressed, Mr. Vane. Most of the Percys did produce large families—until the present generation, that is,” she said, reminding him of his earlier words regarding the dearth of Percys and heirs.

“I should think that both David and Egbert would be starting their nurseries instead of dashing about London and worrying about the cut of their coats.”

Surprised at his bitterness, she spoke without due thought. “You sound as though you resent them, or at least their behavior. Is it the costs involved? Your concern for the estate?” From what Aunt Bel had said, Elizabeth believed the estate to be in fine shape, which made Mr. Vane’s antagonism all the more confusing.

“Yes,” he finally said. “I have a deep concern for the estates, its future. However, if
you
are to come here, I fancy that might ease my worries some. From what I have seen, you appear to be a woman of uncommon good sense.”

“What a charming thing of you to say, sir. I am flattered, indeed.” She beamed a smile of goodwill at him, backing toward the door with the family tree still in her hands. The sound of a monstrous sneeze halted her retreat. Spinning about, she clutched the paper to her breast, exclaiming with dismay, “Lord Leighton! You ought not be down here.”

“I suspect I had better not be in bed, at least not alone.” Giving Jeremy Vane a wrathful glare, David availed himself of Elizabeth’s arm. Leaning upon her just enough so she could not scold him for an impropriety, he guided her from the office.

“What are you doing out of your bed?” she hissed at him in an angry undertone.

“Good thing I came down,” he declared righteously after blowing his nose. “Found you most improperly closeted with that blasted cousin of mine.”

“When I left your room, you were sleeping like an angel.” She stopped at the end of the corridor as it opened onto the central hall. In the distance she could hear the querulous voice of Lord Augustus railing at his son.

“Pity I had to miss your presence. I am almost reconciled to this notion of marriage, if it means having you in my bed,” he teased.

Elizabeth could feel the heat that flamed in her face. Without doubt it spread down her entire body, most likely making her look like a giant strawberry. Those wicked eyes of his danced with glee when he saw her discomfort. Oh, how she would love to put him in his place, just for once. And to get the better of him in one of their contests of wits suddenly became her utmost ambition.

“Sirrah, I protest,” she snapped.

He blew his nose again, then surprisingly agreed. “As do I. You are too lovely a girl to be involved in this mess. However,” he added as he appropriated her arm again and began to walk toward the dining room, “I have need of your intelligence at the moment.”

Irritation fought with another, deeper emotion. “I have not uncovered a clue. Have you thought of anything? Even though your father improves daily, you must be on your guard lest you become a victim. After all, as his heir, would you not be the next target?”

David paused just inside the dining room, glancing back to make sure they were alone. “I had considered that gruesome thought. I appreciate your concern. I believe you have actually come to care for me a trifle?”

Elizabeth blushed, to her annoyance, and refused to respond to that sally. Rather, she veered to another matter.

“I suggest we study your family tree. Your father has been threatened, you as well. Who is to say but what your Uncle Augustus and Cousin Egbert might not be future victims too? Who would be the next in line for the title?”

Elizabeth spread out the paper on the dining table for him to peruse, pointing out how meticulous additions to the various families had been made.

“I do not know. It would take a clever investigation by one trained in that sort of thing. It would involve a third cousin and the like, you know.” He studied the large paper again, looking at the names printed so neatly.

“There are a lot of us, are there not? Would you mind joining such a motley crew?”

“Motley, indeed,” she said, seizing on that word as a means of evasion. “You well know that you are anything but.”

The timely arrival of Lord Augustus, Egbert and Jeremy prevented the exploration of that dangerous subject. She hastily folded up the family tree, tucking it under her arm as the others moved into the room.

“Hear, hear! Out of your bed? Think that wise?” Lord Augustus plodded over to peer at his nephew.

“I am flattered, cuz. I rightly suspect that dearest David did not trust me with his betrothed.”

“What utter nonsense,” Elizabeth roundly declared, not wishing to hear David say the same. “Why do we not sit down so Sidthorp may get on with the serving?”

At Aunt Bel’s home, nuncheon was a casual affair. Late sleepers might stray into the dining room to pick at the spread of food as they pleased. It seemed that at Penhurst Place the gentlemen met at the table for a repast, perhaps to discuss the day’s plans.

Feeling that she inhibited this, Elizabeth nonetheless was loath to depart to her room. How dreary to contemplate eating from a tray all by herself.

Once the meal drew to a tedious close, for the men spent their time conversing about masculine interests, Elizabeth escaped to the library.

She was followed closely by Lord Leighton. Curiously enough, Mr. Percy watched without making an effort to join them. Instead he agreed to a game of billiards with his father.

David closed the door snugly behind them, surveying Elizabeth as she sauntered about the room nervously, still hoping to find a copy of a good herbal. “Why are you here?”

“Why, indeed. Because, my little temptress, I cannot stay away.”

Then he sneezed, and Elizabeth rang for Sidthorp. “I have just the thing for you, my lord.” “I was afraid of that,” David muttered.

Chapter Ten

Water dripped from the eaves. Beyond the house the snow dwindled into little splotches of white in the heavy shade under the hedges. The late February sun filtered through the bare branches of the trees about Penhurst Place, touching on swelling buds with a gentle caress. The cold spell had broken.

Off across the meadow a plump duck paddled its solitary way along the shore of the once frozen pond, although pieces of ice still lingered near the center of the shallow water. A slight breeze ruffled budding shrubs and last summer’s grasses. In sheltered meadows crocus sent forth hesitant blooms, and clusters of snowdrops boldly sought the sun.

Elizabeth ignored the beginnings of spring.

In the library she wandered about, wondering why the herbal Lord Crompton had said ought to be on the shelf was not there. Did the same person who had hidden the book on poisons in the middle of a library shelf remove the herbal for nefarious purposes? She shivered at the thought that such a person might be beneath this roof.

“Ka-choo.”

Without turning about, she absently said, “God bless you.”

“I am feeling neglected,” Lord Leighton said from the doorway, sounding a bit like a petulant schoolboy. “Everyone avoids me today. The least you might do is talk to me.”

“You persist in teasing me, sir. I vow I become tired of it.” She gave him a cross look, for she was indeed tired of everything this morning. The previous evening had been tedious in the extreme. Lord Augustus and Egbert had persisted in claiming her company until she went up to bed. They perpetually wrangled, until she decided she ought to take up billiards, for then they remained silent.

“You’re blue-deviled,” David announced with gentle derision. He strolled to the French window that looked out on the rolling expanse of green across to the woods on the far side, “That warm wind and brighter sun may have banished the snow, but it has done nothing to better your mood. We need to get out of the house.”

“Your father improves, but you, sir, have a wretched cold.” Elizabeth was suddenly reminded of Victoria’s attempt to solve the difficult cipher, and how she had said it was imperative to get away from the problem at times, else she would go mad.

“On the other hand, perhaps you are right,” Elizabeth said slowly. “I could see if I might persuade the coachman to take me back to Aunt Bel’s.”

“I need you here to keep your eyes open,” he said hastily. “With you at my side, I may be less inclined to succumb to poison.” He assumed a vulnerable look and gazed at her with the saddest expression she had ever seen.

“You accept you are in danger?” With a worried flash of turquoise eyes at the gentleman who lounged against the window surround, Elizabeth said, “I had not expected to find hunting for missing, er, books to be so trying.”

“Ah, yes, discretion,” he whispered, glancing at the open door. “Very wise. Now, where shall we go?” he mused, quite ignoring her statement in regard to the coachman and returning to Aunt Bel’s.