Abandoned to the Prodigal, page 19
Which was not, she suspected, the reaction of most people on entering the domain of the fearsome old gentleman.
An ancient valet opened the door and bowed creakily.
The baron was seated in an armchair by the fireplace, dwarfed by the huge, ornate dressing gown he was wrapped in. Only the fierce eyes under shaggy white brows denied the first impression of weakness.
His gaze whipped over Dan, lingered on Juliet, and then he snarled quite unexpectedly, “What the devil is she here for?”
Warned by the entire family, Juliet had been prepared for rudeness, but the injustice of this took her breath away.
“He doesn’t mean you,” Dan assured her. “He is complaining about my mother’s presence, though he knows perfectly well she came to keep the proprieties.”
“Ha!” Lord Myerly said with derision. “Jenny playing propriety? Who’d have thought it?”
“I would,” Juliet said. “Mrs. Stewart has shown me every kindness.”
“Not surprised,” snapped the old man. “Two peas in a pod from what I hear.”
“We’ll come back when he’s in a better mood,” Dan said, turning and indicating the door. “Although we may have a long wait.”
“You will,” Lord Myerly agreed, surely with a hint of amusement. “So, you might as well stay. Hmm, so, you are Cosland’s girl? Never thought to be giving refuge to one of his brood.”
“I’m grateful for your hospitality, sir,” Juliet said politely.
“Are you, by God?” He waved a stick at the chair opposite. “Sit and let me look at you… Pretty little thing, aren’t you? I suppose they’ll all be vying for you now, the way they were for Myerly.”
“Don’t be vulgar, Grandfather,” Dan said. “Lady Juliet is used to a courteous household.”
“Then what’s she doing here?” the old man demanded. “I don’t recall Cosland being so damned courteous, do you, Jenny?”
“Lord Cosland and I are friends,” Mrs. Stewart said, sitting in one of the more distant chairs. Juliet found herself glad that Dan stayed beside her.
“I suppose we can expect them all calling here, then? Imagining they’re also friends with me? And looking for this chit, I imagine.” He glared at Juliet, and it was quite an effort of courage to glare back. “What the devil were you doing in that house?”
Juliet blinked. “I live there.”
“Not Hornby! The Princess of Wales’s establishment.”
“I was doing, as I thought, my duty,” Juliet replied stiffly. “Protecting Her Highness.”
“She doesn’t need protecting from what I hear,” Myerly said with an unpleasant chuckle.
Juliet lifted her chin. “Her Highness is a kind and misunderstood lady.”
“As I suppose, are you?” Lord Myerly mocked.
“In this matter, yes. I was deliberately tricked and traduced by a so-called gentleman who is now at Hornby, and who is one of the reasons I have sought refuge with you.”
“My.” The old man sat back, regarding her. “Honesty, at last. I like her. She can stay. I might even come down to watch all you young bucks fight over her. Now, go away. I’m going to rest for a while.”
There was nothing for Juliet to do but rise and drop a curtsey before walking out of the room.
“Well done, my dear,” Mrs. Stewart murmured. “He actually likes people who stand up to him.”
“I’m afraid I was distracted from proper gratitude by temper,” Juliet said ruefully.
“No,” Mrs. Stewart said simply.
From the floor below, came sounds of scurrying feet. Whether family or servants, they had clearly been waiting to hear how Juliet had been received.
Mrs. Stewart said bluntly. “Did you leave a note for your family?”
“Yes,” Juliet admitted. “But I just said I was going somewhere safe, and they should not try to find me until I wrote again. They’ll never think I would come to Myerly.”
Mrs. Stewart nodded. “Well, I am going to lie down for an hour after all this excitement.”
“I was going to see Patrick,” Dan said, glancing at Juliet. “Care to come?”
“Everyone will know who she is,” Mrs. Stewart warned. “Word will get back to Lord Cosland,”
“I shall be discreet,” Juliet told her.
“And Patrick won’t gossip,” Dan said, “The rain’s gone off for now, but you can take my cloak until your own dries. Come on then. Gun will be desperate.”
Five minutes later, they left by the kitchen door, collected the ecstatic Gun from a very pleasant, if overgrown, walled garden just beyond the vegetable patch and set off over the fields.
“I didn’t mean to spoil your plans,” Juliet said as they walked.
“You didn’t,” he replied at once. He cast her a quick smile. “Though I may have to adjust them slightly. So might you. Your father will find you, you know. Even with discretion, he’ll know you’re here within—what? Two days? No more.”
She sighed. “Probably. But presumably, he wanted my answer this morning because Barden did. Hopefully, he’ll then give up.”
“Barden?” he said doubtfully. “He’s gone to a great deal of trouble to give up at the first setback. What I can’t understand is why your father is even considering giving you to such a vile man.”
“I couldn’t understand it either,” she admitted. “I was too hurt and too angry that he did. Now that I’m calmer, I think he is simply trying to preserve my reputation to make my life easier. I would not be the first woman to make the best of a bad marriage. Also…he probably feels guilty because he won all that money from Barden in the first place.” She shrugged a little wearily. “I’ve always thought of myself as a dutiful daughter, but I won’t pay the price for that folly.”
“It sounds like you would both pay the price.”
She cast him a crooked smile. “You mean I am doing my father a favor by hiding from Barden? At least he will remain better off. To give him his due, he prefers Jeremy of my two options.”
He turned his head. “Do you?”
“Probably. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve no intention of marrying either of them. Or even being engaged to either of them until the scandal blows over, which was Kitty’s advice. Just to be engaged to someone.”
She searched his face, waiting for him to speak. To say something about his feelings, his kisses, and an offer that was a natural progression from there.
He didn’t.
She swallowed. He was a poor man, and she a wealthy heiress. Of course, he would not speak. She drew her gaze free. “If you like,” she said with difficulty, “I could be engaged to you.”
He didn’t answer for so long that she felt dizzy from holding her breath. She exhaled in a rush, and at last, he turned his stormy gaze back to her.
“Until the scandal blows over?” he said scathingly.
She bent hastily to pet Gun, who had kindly brought her a stick. She picked it up, “Never mind. I was just thinking aloud,” She hurled the stick and chased after the dog to hide her burning cheeks.
By the time they caught up with Patrick, Lord Myerly’s steward, they were again chatting like old friends. But she could not forget his reaction to her suggestion, which had both hurt and surprised her. She could have more easily understood if he had run screaming from the prospect of marriage or refused to be thought a fortune hunter. But to answer with such withering contempt for the suggestion…it made her want to cry.
Fortunately, she pulled herself together and forced cheerfulness back into her voice and manner until she genuinely felt it. That the day was beautiful and fresh, now that the rain had gone off, certainly helped, as did the scenery and the greetings of Patrick and his son, who were introduced to her and sworn to secrecy.
Although she had little interest in the science of agriculture, she found she was impressed by Dan’s knowledge, as much as his curiosity. This was why Lord Myerly had made him his heir. Perhaps it was the old man’s act of redemption for neglecting the estates for so long.
Perhaps.
“Are you tired?” Dan asked as they made their way back toward the house. “I can run ahead and fetch the pony and trap? Or your horse, if you prefer.”
“No, I like to walk. And I have been trapped for so long, this is wonderful. Though I suspect I shall sleep well tonight.”
“We can stop in the hamlet and—” He broke off as a sudden crack rent the air, and his hat fell off.
“Goodness, that gave me a fright!” she exclaimed while Gun bolted toward the noise, barking, then skidded to a halt in bafflement and ran in circles.
Dan frowned, bending to swipe his hat off the ground. “That’s the second time this has…” He trailed off, and Juliet saw why.
There was a large tear in his hat, front and back, as though…
“Gunshot! Dear God, Dan, did it hit you?” Desperately, she seized his arm, then dragged down his head to inspect it thoroughly.
“It didn’t hit me,” he said patiently. “But by God, it was close.” He scowled. “And that is my only hat, dash it.”
“Your only… Dan, how can you care about such a thing right now?” With difficulty, she refrained from slapping his undamaged head and released him with a little push. “This could have been a terrible accident. Someone nearly killed you!”
He straightened, seizing her arm and moving quickly down the hill, his gaze searching all around. “I know. We need to get off the hill and among more people.”
She cooperated fully with this plan. “You think this was deliberate?” she demanded.
“Once could have been an accident. Twice makes me suspicious. Especially when…”
“Especially when what?” she demanded.
“Oh, nothing. Life is a bit strange at the moment for all of us.”
She thought about that. “Perhaps someone doesn’t like Gun. Perhaps he attacked their sheep or just scared the wits out of them.” She looked up at Dan. “Or perhaps it wasn’t meant for you but for me.”
He glanced down to meet her gaze. “I was hoping you wouldn’t think of that,” he admitted.
“Then you think it’s possible?”
“It crossed my mind, but who would do such a thing? Barden is a snake, and I would not put it past him to shoot someone from a great distance, but you are his means to a fortune. Why would he attack you? Likewise, Catesby wants his alliance—or you—or both. If it was one of them, they’d be more likely to shoot at me because they perceive me as a threat to their marriage plans. It’s a risky way to beat a rival, though.”
“And you said this had happened to you before?”
“Well, I don’t know that it did. A gun went off a little too close for comfort, but I wasn’t hit, and I couldn’t tell which direction it had come from. I assumed it was someone shooting rabbits or birds.” He shrugged. “It still could have been.”
“And today?”
“An unlucky shot?” he guessed. “Aiming at something else?”
“I suppose that does seem likeliest,” she said doubtfully. “But it is shockingly careless!” She shuddered, trying not to imagine what might have happened. He could be lying on the ground where his hat had been, the lifeblood draining from this vital, fun, necessary being…
His arm came around her shoulders in a brief hug, although he let her go again almost immediately. She wanted to cling, hide him, keep him safe…
A few minutes later, they came to the hamlet, basically just a few cottages and a tavern. Juliet drew the cloak more tightly about her and pulled the hood up over her bonnet, so that she looked as little like the earl’s daughter as possible. A few curious glances were cast at her, but the locals appeared to know Dan, greeting him with nods and the occasional, amiable word. Apart from the man in the red coat who sat outside the tavern and who gazed with unfriendly eyes as they stopped.
“I can bring you a drink if you like?” Dan offered.
“No, thank you,” she replied. “I believe I would rather get back to the house.” She frowned, finally realizing that the man with the hostile eyes wore a military coat.
Dan seemed to notice him at the same time, for he strolled toward the man. “Beautiful day, is it not?”
“If you say so,” the soldier replied insolently.
Dan regarded him for a moment. “My name is Stewart. I’m staying up at Myerly Hall.”
“I know exactly who you are,” the soldier retorted.
“And you don’t seem to care for the knowledge,” Dan observed.
Juliet’s stomach lurched. Soldiers had firearms… At least he didn’t have a rifle slung over his back or a pistol lying on the bench beside him. She refrained from catching at Dan’s arm and dragging him off, but only with difficulty.
The soldier curled his lip.
“What’s your name?” Dan asked.
The soldier met his gaze with defiance. “None of your business.”
Dan shrugged. “As you wish. I just thought you might be Susan Harper’s sergeant. Owens, isn’t it?”
The soldier jumped to his feet. “If you know about me, you should be quaking in your shoes!”
“I should?” Dan said, startled.
But Juliet suddenly understood and let out a peel of laughter. “Dan, he thinks you have led Susan astray! He is Susan’s sergeant.”
“I don’t see what’s so damned amusing about that!” Sergeant Owens said aggressively.
“Keep a civil tongue in your head when you address a lady,” Dan commanded, and rather to Juliet’s surprise—and possibly the sergeant’s—Owens muttered an apology.
“Thing is, I know she works up there at the big house,” the soldier said in a rush. “And I hear you are too dam…dashed friendly with her. I know your sort. Think you’re a lady’s man and don’t care about the carnage you leave in your wake. Why—”
“You’ve got the wrong end of the stick,” Dan interrupted before the tirade went any further. “I’ve never seduced anyone’s housemaid, least of all my grandfather’s. Does she know you’re here?”
Owens shuffled his feet. “Not yet.”
“Then we’ll tell her where you are,” Juliet said sternly. “And if she wants to see you, she will. If she doesn’t, you can go straight back to your barracks. And incidentally, Sergeant, do you have a firearm with you?”
The man’s mouth fell open. “Firearm? What would I be doing wandering around Yorkshire with a rifle? Don’t even have the French to fight anymore.”
“Just curious,” Juliet replied. “Good day, Sergeant.”
“Subtle,” Dan murmured in apparent amusement as they walked on.
“Well, I thought I might as well ask.”
“And did you expect a truthful answer?”
She glanced at him in dismay. “You think he was lying?”
“Not necessarily. Don’t know the man well enough to say.” He gazed thoughtfully down the road toward Myerly. “I wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad that he came after Susan?”
“He does seem quite an angry young man,” Juliet admitted.
“I might be angry, too, if someone enticed my beloved away.”
“Yes, but I don’t think anyone did entice Susan, did they? She left the sergeant and got work here, where she met her farmer.”
“It’s easier to blame other people than yourself,” Dan said vaguely. “But it will be easy enough to find out how long he has been sitting outside the tavern.”
*
“She is what?” Lord Barden asked, staring at his host. He didn’t believe a word of it.
“My daughter is not in the house,” Lord Cosland repeated. “She cannot, therefore, give you or I the answer you seek.”
They faced each other in the library once more, but this time neither of them sat.
Barden gave his most unpleasant smile. “That is a pity. I had hoped not to bring up the subject of your daughter’s sadly fallen reputation, but—”
A knock at the door interrupted him, and he broke off.
“Enter,” Cosland commanded.
Catesby came in and looked surprised to see Barden. He addressed himself to the earl. “Sir, she does not appear to be in the garden. Apparently, she walks down to the river sometimes, so Lady Kitty and King are going down to see if they can see her.”
“Let us hope they are quick,” Barden said, hoping to convey his not-so-veiled threat. “We agreed to an answer this morning, and it is already well after midday.”
“You shall have your answer,” Cosland said haughtily, which was irritating because there was no need to involve the girl at this stage.
“Answer to what?” Catesby asked, with a smile to offset any incivility in his curiosity.
“Barden’s offer of marriage,” Cosland replied.
Barden blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the earl to admit that much. Was he trying to auction the girl?
“Marriage?” Catesby repeated, a flush mounting to his cheeks. “My lord, I understood…”
“You’re letting the grass grow under your feet, Jeremy,” the earl snapped. “My daughter has never been short of suitors, and she never will be.”
Oh yes, she will be, Barden thought savagely.
“Such was not my intention, sir,” Catesby said earnestly. “You understand this has been difficult for me—”
“And for her!” Cosland snapped.
“Indeed, indeed, my lord,” Catesby said quickly. “But I must claim a prior offer.”
“Which you withdrew,” Cosland pointed out.
Damn the man, he was enjoying this, setting them against each other. He probably wanted to make them both squirm, but Barden knew which of them held the aces in his hand, which of them would come home with the bride.
At that moment, the door opened again, and the countess rushed in, waving a letter in her hand. “Cosland! I have just this moment been handed this! The stupid maid had it in her apron all morning and only now thinks to—”
“What is it?” Cosland demanded, striding up to his wife as though with some premonition of disaster.
The countess, becoming aware of Barden and Catesby, tried to smile, searching visibly for an alternative topic of conversation.
