Читать книгу A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder - Dianne Freeman - Страница 10

Chapter 3

After an instant of shocked paralysis, the rest of us rushed forward as one, stumbling over and around the offending luggage. George and Leo climbed to their feet, brushing off their clothes. Certain as I was that we’d find them at the bottom of the heap of bags, I nearly sagged with relief.

I looked George up and down, then turned to assess Leo. “I can’t believe neither of you were injured.”

“Good thing Hazelton acted so quickly,” Leo said, “or that might not be the case. I’ll admit when I looked up to see those bags tumbling toward me, I thought that might be the end.”

“I shall not be done in by a rogue baggage cart.” George drew me aside as Lily bounded past us and threw herself into Leo’s arms. I felt quite jealous as I could do no more than touch George’s sleeve while we were in such a public space.

Indeed, the rest of our party stood around us, watching with interest. Treadwell stepped up and handed George his homburg. “We should call for the stationmaster, I’d say. Have him explain how the deuce such a thing could happen.”

“I find it shocking we would have to call him,” Eliza said with a sniff. “He should already be here to see what caused all this racket.”

Anne gave her sister a look of scorn. “The train was arriving at the same time. I doubt anyone on the platform heard a thing.”

“Unless you’ve a mind to call for him, Hazelton,” Leo said, “I’d rather we just move on. Obviously, someone left the cart unattended.”

“And at the top of a stairway.” Treadwell clucked his tongue. “Someone should lose his position for such a careless act.”

“I do believe we should call for the stationmaster,” I said. “I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

George grazed my fingers with his own. “While I dislike denying you the satisfaction, Lady Harleigh, I’m of the same mind as Kendrick. We are off to a rather sticky beginning, but both of us are fit, so I say we head to Risings and enjoy the rest of our week.”

“Hear, hear,” Leo added.

With the two of them determined to brush off the incident and get on with the week’s entertainment, it would be churlish for any of the rest of us to kick up a fuss. One by one, we nodded or shrugged, and our little party climbed the stairs and set out for the carriages.

The accident had delayed us long enough to meet up with the servants outside the station. A few footmen and another man in a suit, probably an upper servant, were directing the loading of our luggage onto a cart. I spotted Rose holding Nanny’s hand and took her into my custody, while George quickly dispersed our party into the two carriages. Leo, Lily, and Rose rode with us, and Mr. Treadwell, Mr. Durant, and Leo’s sisters climbed into the second carriage. The servants would follow us to Risings with our bags.

The drive took less than an hour but was long enough to calm my nerves. George and Leo were fine after all, and while the accident had been quite bizarre, no venture was without its stumbling blocks. I stole a glance at George through the corner of my eye. He appeared unscathed.

“I am fine, Lady Harleigh.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “Stop worrying about me and enjoy the scenery.”

I leaned forward to see we were approaching a bridge that crossed a lake. “Are we close to the estate?”

“We’re on the property now,” he said. “Change seats with me so you can see it from the window.”

“I’d like to see, too,” Rose said, wriggling forward in her seat opposite us.

“Excellent. Step right up to the window, young lady. Your mother and I can easily see over your head.”

George took Rose’s hand to steady her as the three of us exchanged our seats. Lily and Leo, on the opposite seat with their heads together, were oblivious to our activity. “Is that your lake, Mr. Hazelton?” Rose asked.

“Not mine, but it belongs to the estate, yes.”

I absorbed the fact that the Hazeltons owned this lovely lake, and while we crossed at the narrows, I could see it widened to our right and reflected the gold-tinged meadowland surrounding it, as well as an enormous edifice. Pushing my head closer to the window, I let out a gasp as the house came into view. The meadow gave way to a manicured lawn, which in turn gave way to a graveled drive along the front of the house which seemed to stretch on forever in pure grandeur.

The carriage stopped in front of a grand stone stairway leading to a great hall at the center of the house. It was framed by two wings, three stories high, with balconied porches on the second floor leading to what must be state apartments. The house was apparently designed to accommodate royal visits. It was the fantasy of any young girl who ever dreamt of becoming a princess.

As we climbed down from the carriage, Rose stared in awe, reminding me to close my mouth and stop gawking. “My goodness, Mr. Hazelton, your sister has described Risings to me, and indeed I’ve heard of its beauty, but nothing prepared me for its sheer size.”

“Is this your first visit?” George looked surprised. “I’d thought surely you’d been here with Fiona.”

I took his arm as we all headed for the entrance, gravel crunching under our shoes. “The first time I visited your sister, she was already a married woman with a country home of her own.”

“Then you must allow me to give you a tour,” he said as a gray-haired, painfully thin butler bowed us inside.

We entered a great hall, as large as a ballroom, walled with carved oak panels, and topped with windows that reached up to the two-story ceiling where three chandeliers were suspended. The housekeeper, Mrs. Ansel, waited in the entry to take everyone up to their rooms. Once they’d freshened up, tea would be served in the drawing room.

George held my arm when I would have joined the group heading up the stairs and sent Mrs. Ansel on without me. “Lady Nash will be joining us shortly. She wished to greet Lady Harleigh.”

“I am here now.” Fiona’s voice rang through the hall as she entered from a door at the opposite end. Her shoes tapped on the marble floor as she sailed across the room, holding out her hands to take mine. Fiona was one of only a few ladies of my acquaintance taller than I, and as she looked down her narrow nose and into my eyes, I could see true happiness glowing in hers. She was the only person I’d informed of the understanding between George and me, and this was our first meeting since I’d sent that letter, so I could well understand her enthusiasm.

She nearly burst with joy, bouncing on the balls of her feet until her chestnut coiffure threatened to come tumbling around her shoulders. Once Nanny arrived to take Rose to her room up in the nursery, and only the three of us remained in the hall, she caught my hands in hers.

“Frances, I cannot properly convey my delight that you and George are to be married.” She gave my hands one final squeeze and released me in favor of her brother, declaring he had made her the happiest of sisters.

“Your happiness was uppermost in our minds, Fi,” George replied, earning him a poke in the chest.

“Now, I suppose I should leave the two of you alone. I know George plans to keep you to himself and show you the house.” She kissed the air near my cheek. “Welcome to Risings, Frances. I planned a meeting with the vicar this afternoon, so come find me when you are through with George.”

With that, she was off and George and I were finally alone.

“I missed you,” he said.Taking my hand he lead me across the hall and through ornate double doors to the drawing room.

“I saw you just yesterday,” I said, though I was thrilled to hear I’d been missed.

“That’s one day too long.” As he whispered the words his breath tickled my ear and his arm encircled my waist.

I turned around within the enclosure of his arms. “Well, I’m here now.”

“There you are!”

George and I leaped apart as Lottie Evingdon came bounding into the room like a puppy, her flailing arms disturbing an arrangement of framed photographs on a nearby table. Though several of them wobbled, none hit the floor. For Lottie, I’d count that as a triumphant entrance.

She took my hands and spread them wide as if looking me over. There was likely no more change in me over the last two months than I saw in her. Her dark ginger hair still refused to stay where her maid pinned it, a smudge of ink marred one creamy cheek, and a shawl had fallen from her shoulders and now lay on the floor. “I was so excited to hear you were all to join us. This is the first I’ve seen of you since my wedding.”

Lottie Evingdon, formerly Deaver, was a friend of Lily’s from New York. She’d come to stay with us last summer and met my cousin, and George’s friend, Charles Evingdon. They fell in love while we were all trying to prove him innocent of murder. Perhaps the fact that I’d allowed her near an accused murderer means I’m not the best of chaperones, but given the fact that they married, it all worked out in the end.

Except she’d just interrupted what might have been a tender moment between George and me. I supposed I’d better get used to it. This was a house party, so it was likely to happen more often than not.

We chatted for a moment and I sent her off to find Lily. Once she departed, I turned to George. “Is there perhaps a more secluded part of the house you could show me?”

“An excellent idea.” With a smile, he took my arm and led me out of the drawing room and into a gallery that ran behind the great hall and connected the two wings. He drew me outside to a formal garden in the courtyard at the back of the house.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he said, pausing in the middle of the courtyard between a fountain and a tall spray of asters.

“Indeed? Is it a flower?”

He removed a small box from his pocket and held it between his finger and thumb. “It’s a ring.” His lips quirked into a crooked smile. “A betrothal ring.”

My hands fluttered before my chest until I clasped them together and brought them to my lips to cover a squeak of excitement. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. “Forgive me, George. I’m as giddy as a schoolgirl.”

“I can’t recall the last time I was this nervous.” He held the box before me and opened the lid to reveal a single round diamond in a setting of intricate gold latticework, studded with more tiny diamonds.

I gasped. “It’s beautiful!”

“Then you like it?”

I tore my gaze away from the ring to look at his face. His brows were drawn down in concern. An uneasy smile played on his lips. “You truly are nervous,” I said.

“I had it commissioned the very day after you agreed to marry me. Then we decided to wait to make a public announcement until after your sister’s wedding. I’ve had it for over a month and each time I look at it, I worry you won’t like it.”

“It’s perfect.” I reached up to caress his cheek. “I can’t imagine anything more beautiful.”

He blew out a breath of relief and, taking my hand, dropped a kiss into my palm, and another on my lips, then moved to return the ring to his pocket.

I stilled his hand. “Wait. May I not try it on?”

“No, you may not.” The box disappeared into his coat. “I know you can’t wear it yet, and I refuse to put it on your finger only to take it off again.”

I stared in disbelief, my mouth drooped open. “What was the point of showing it to me only to put it back in your pocket?”

“What is the point of a betrothal that must be kept secret?”

I went numb. Had he torn off his clothes and jumped into the fountain, I couldn’t have been more stunned. “What do you mean?”

He turned his face to the sky and let out a groan. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Taking my arm, he led me back to the house. “Let’s continue our tour. I think better when I’m moving.”

We stepped back into the gallery and headed toward the north wing, side by side, our hands behind our backs. I was still too shocked to speak. After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of our heels clicking on the marble floor, he took a deep breath.

“I well and truly mucked that up.” He snuck a glance at my face. “Since I have no idea when our betrothal can become public or when our wedding will take place, I’ve become somewhat anxious.”

I cannot describe the relief I felt in that moment. Though he’d just presented a ring, I’d been almost certain I’d lost him. With relief, came anger. “Don’t ever frighten me like that again. If you objected to keeping our engagement secret, why didn’t you say so when I suggested it?”

He pretended to grimace at my sharp tone as he opened a door and we entered a library. “I don’t mind keeping the news between us, but we’ve made no plans, we’ve set no date. I fear you’d be content to stay betrothed indefinitely. I, on the other hand, wish to marry you.”

His words struck home. I’d been so caught up in Lily’s wedding plans, that I failed to make any of my own. But he spoke another truth, one I didn’t care to admit—I might very well be content to stay betrothed indefinitely.

We left the library and moved throughout the house, but I have little memory of anything he showed me. We discussed how we’d tell Rose, (together), how we’d tell my mother, (I’d handle that), and how soon we’d marry (as soon as the banns were read). But we never touched on the topic that concerned me the most. What role would I play in this partnership? Before I could bring that up, Fiona arrived to collect me for our visit to the vicar.

“Are you showing Frances where to find you, brother dear?” She rested her arm on the railing of an elegant staircase.

I glance up its length. “Where does this lead? I thought we were in the working part of the house.”

“On this floor, yes,” George said. “But upstairs is the bachelors’ wing. It’s an addition to the second floor, running over the kitchens and alongside the old nursery and schoolroom. It’s to keep the unmarried ladies of the house safe from those lecherous bachelor visitors. There’s a second staircase farther down the hall.” He waggled his brows. “In case you do need to find me.”

“I see, but as family, why are you staying here? Surely your brother keeps a guest room for you in this house?”

He smiled. “I usually stay in a large and beautifully appointed room at the back of the south wing, looking out over the maze and gardens. When I realized your mother would be joining us, I put her in that room.”

Fiona rolled her eyes as I sighed and, I’m certain, took on the look of a lovesick puppy. “How kind of you.” Honestly, the man thought of everything.

“That’s all very nice,” Fiona said. “But we really should be off, Frances, or we may miss the vicar.”

“Where is Lily? Is she not coming with us?”

“I believe she and Mr. Kendrick are exploring the grounds.” Fiona gave my arm a tug, but I kept my feet firmly planted.

“What do you mean she’s exploring the grounds? She should be coming with us. It’s her wedding after all.”

Fiona waved away my protest. “I suggested as much, but she feels you will make the right choices. It seems she’s happy for a few moments alone with her fiancé and doesn’t wish to go.”

I heaved a sigh and considered dragging Lily off with us, but from the set of Fiona’s jaw I could tell she wanted no interference in the wedding plans, even from someone as consequential as the bride. Ultimately, I gave in.

* * *

Our visit with the vicar proceeded splendidly. The church was perfectly picturesque, seventeenth-century stonework, placed in a bucolic setting and enclosed by a stone wall covered in vines. Fiona assured me the greenhouse at Risings could provide flowers in abundance. Lily was sure to be thrilled with it.

Once we showed the vicar the license, he became most accommodating and set the date for Saturday morning, six days hence. He was also helpful with his suggestions for decorating the church and where to find assistance for that task.

I was confident our decisions would please my sister, but I decided to bring her out here before the wedding so she could see everything for herself and give her stamp of approval. Within two hours, Fiona and I had settled everything and were on the wooded path for the short walk back to the manor. The sun, shining through the trees, dappled the ground before us and dry leaves crunched underfoot.

“You and George might consider holding your ceremony here,” Fiona said. “Have you discussed a venue for your wedding?”

“We haven’t considered a venue, but we were making plans for the wedding just this morning.” I chuckled. “It was the first time we’ve discussed any details. George was worried that I planned to put off the wedding.”

She examined me through narrowed eyes. “Do you?”

“Of course not.”

She placed a hand on my arm and came to a stop. “There’s something you’re not telling me. This should be the happiest time of your life. Something must be wrong, or you would have taken every opportunity to make your plans weeks ago. Now, tell me what it is.”

“What could possibly be wrong?” I took a step to move on, but she tightened her grip on my arm and refused to budge.

“Fine, if you must know, I’m a little shy of marriage in general. I’m worried I’ll be relegated to the role of wife and mother and deposited in the country to rusticate.”

“George has no country home.”

“You know what I mean.” Though I wasn’t entirely certain she did. George’s work for the Crown was confidential and I had no idea how much Fiona knew or suspected. Would I be a part of his work, or would I sit at home and worry about him?

“Considering your marriage with Reggie, I think I understand, but George is nothing like Reggie, and you will be a wife and mother. Is there something else you wish to do? Something of which he wouldn’t approve?”

How to explain it? “I simply wish for us to be partners. I don’t want to take a subservient role in our marriage.”

“Ah, I think you’ll handle that beautifully, my dear.” She gave me a warning look. “But if you’re truly worried, you should discuss your fears with George. If he senses your hesitation, he may think it means you’ve changed your mind—that you no longer wish to marry.”

A knot tightened in my chest, recalling my fear of losing him just a few hours ago. “I’d never want him to think that.”

“I wouldn’t worry, dear. My brother is too cocksure of himself, and far too determined, to allow you to change your mind.”

“He is rather confident, isn’t he? But you are right. I should talk to him about my concerns.”

I turned at the sound of shouts and excited voices farther up the path. We shared a curious glance then hastened our steps. Ahead of us was George and two men I didn’t know—estate hands by the look of their dress. One of them held the reins to a skittish horse, who became even more so when Leo rode up and dismounted. As the groom moved both horses to the side of the lane, he revealed another man lying facedown on the ground.

A sense of dread tickled the back of my neck. There must have been an accident.