An Unexpected Encounter ( Half Moon House, Novella 1) (4 page)

And then the little minx had gone and uttered
that enormous falsehood—and given her the chance. Given her a
chance at a respite too, a place to be safe and useful while she
collected her thoughts and decided what to do with herself. Still,
she’d hesitated. It was a very large step, taking a position in
service, taking up residence in a gentleman’s household. Accepting
meant taking a leap over an invisible line, ending one life
irrevocably and embarking anew. She’d thought of the alternatives,
going back, or attempting to throw herself on the mercy of those
who had already failed her—and she’d leapt.

Which left them all here, several days later,
all still in a tangle of problems, with no clear solution yet in
sight.

She’d made a bit of progress with Aurelia at
least. She was neatly turned out today in a lavender-hued dress
that complimented her coloring. She’d relaxed a little in the last
couple of days, and this morning she definitely enjoyed the ducks,
keeping calm in the face of their squabbles and keeping them all
evenly fed. She did withdraw a bit when they attracted the notice
of a couple of young girls, but Lisbeth had kept back an extra
loaf, so they were able to share. Soon enough Aurelia was talking,
laughing and showing her new friends how to lob treats to the
smaller, less aggressive birds in the back.

Afterwards, the girls chased a ball while
Lisbeth sank onto a bench and tried to sort through her own snarled
situation. The upstairs maid had mentioned the name of the agency
that had supposedly sent her. At first she’d worried about being
found out, but now she thought it might be wise to visit the place.
She could confess the mix up and even check for other possible
situations.

But what was she good for, really? She
couldn’t stay here. Aurelia was a bright child. She needed a real
teacher, someone learned and experienced. All of Lisbeth’s
experiences concerned running a household and home farm. And the
child was an heiress, too, the maid had hinted, well connected and
well dowered. Some day she would be expected to make her debut,
find a suitable husband and take her place in the
ton.
Lisbeth could not lead her through all that. She’d cherished dreams
of her own Season, but her chance had been stolen, first by her
father’s death, then by her stepfather’s nip-farthing ways, and now
finally by her own rash actions.

“That was nice.” Aurelia interrupted her
train of thought as she flung herself down on the bench. A little
wistfully, she waved her new friends off as they followed their
nurse back home. “The girls at school were never so kind.”

“We’ll come back then, and perhaps see them
again.” It had been a relief to see her having fun.

“Margaret said that they share secrets, that
that is what friends do.”

Lisbeth shrugged. “Some friends do, I
suppose.”

The girl sat quietly for a moment. “I don’t
know any secrets.”

“Well that’s easily righted, isn’t it?
I
shall tell you a secret.”

Aurelia brightened and waited expectantly.
Put on the spot, Lisbeth fished for something to tell her. “I
know!” She leaned in close. “Now, you cannot share it, for I tell
you as a sign of our friendship.”

“What is it?” The girl had gone
breathless.

Lisbeth whispered. “I have a guardian,
too.”

“You do?”

“Well, a trustee, really, which is not quite
the same thing. He watches over the money that’s been left to me,
until I turn one and twenty.”

Aurelia absorbed this with a blink. “Where
does he live?”

“Here in London.”

“Can I meet him? Shall he come and visit you,
then?”

“Heavens, no. He’s made it clear he has no
interest in me, just my accounts.” And he’d likely tell her mother
where she was, too.

“Oh.” Aurelia frowned. “I suppose I like my
guardian better than yours.” She sounded surprised.

“I do, too.” Lisbeth was just as surprised.
“Well! Are you ready to start back? The servants are meant to be
finished in the music room before this afternoon. Your scales do
need a bit of attention.”

They gathered their things and Lisbeth waited
until they reached the edge of the park before she asked, “You were
at school, you said? Where was that?”

“Miss Preston’s Academy for Young Ladies. It
was in Somerset, not far from home. I was only to stay until Mama
and Papa returned.” Aurelia fell silent for a moment. “They took me
out when . . . the news came.”

“I see.” Lisbeth frowned. “Should you like to
go back?”

She considered it. “No.”

Lisbeth waited, as it seemed the child meant
to continue, but she said nothing more. She wouldn’t press her. She
was learning that Aurelia opened up and offered information or
conversation in spurts, as she felt comfortable. She was content to
wait.

They walked on in silence, Lisbeth enjoying
the sun and the unfamiliar bustle of the city. In a way, she found
the commotion calming. All of these people had found their place in
this vast town. They’d carved their niche, surely she could too.
They’d nearly reached the townhouse before Aurelia spoke again.

“There were always too many people about. At
school, I mean. And I like to be here.”

“Here?” Lisbeth wondered if she meant the
city, or if perhaps she was indeed growing fond of her
guardian.

“Near the museum.”

The footman had spotted them coming. He held
open the door and offered a friendly greeting, so Lisbeth did not
comment further on Aurelia’s continued affinity for the museum.
“Why don’t your run upstairs and leave your wrap while I return
Cook’s basket? I’ll meet you in the music room in a few
minutes.”

In the end she was delayed, being unable to
refuse a taste of seed cake, fresh from the oven. She returned to
find the music room still empty. The soft patter of Aurelia’s voice
drifted down the passage, however. Lisbeth followed it across the
main corridor, to the room situated behind his lordship’s
laboratory. On silent feet she moved toward the partially open
door.

As she’d guessed, it was a study, all done in
dark wood and masculine tones. Botanical prints, framed maps and
illustrations of animals covered the walls. Aurelia sat inside,
next to Lord Cotwell.

“Not that one. He’s from the tropics. He
would never survive one of our English winters, I’m afraid.”

Such a voice. The deep rumble echoed in the
spot behind her ears, even as the slight rough edge set off tiny
flutters in her core.

“Yes, they were all my father’s,” he
responded to Aurelia’s questions. “He was a naturalist and a
collector, just like yours. I believe it’s one of the reasons we
first became friends, it felt so familiar to listen to him talk of
insects and aboriginals.”

Aurelia went silent, absorbing this
information, and Lisbeth froze as the baron turned with uncanny
accuracy to meet her gaze. His dark eyes were filled with amusement
. . . and something darker, too.

Some old, wise part of her responded to that
look. Her pulse jumped about, more erratic than a rabbit eluding
her father’s pack. She couldn’t quite catch her breath. Once before
she’d felt something like this, though it hadn’t been so forceful
or immediate. Long ago, James had awakened the feminine instinct
inside of her. She froze, suddenly aware that she’d scarcely given
the viscount’s heir a thought since she’d left the museum with this
big and burly nobleman.

He sat back and lifted the shadowbox of
mounted and preserved butterflies they’d been inspecting. Lisbeth
noticed that his coat was wrinkled and his waistcoat had been
buttoned wrong, as if he’d thrown it on in a hurry.

“I think you should have this,” he told his
ward. “It might be nice for you to have something in your room that
will remind you of your Papa.”

Aurelia pressed her lips together. Eyes
shining, she clutched the frame to her chest.

“Why don’t you run upstairs and find the
perfect spot for it? I’ll stay here and talk with Miss Moreton for
a moment. You can come and fetch her when you’re done.”

Lisbeth’s heart pounded as Aurelia stood and
dropped a polite curtsy. “Thank you,” the girl whispered. She
didn’t say anything more, but the look in her eyes . . . Lisbeth
nodded to the girl and then steeled herself to look to Lord
Cotwell.

“Come in, Miss Moreton, and shut the door, if
you please.” Edmund saw the light in the young woman’s face fade a
little as she did as he asked. He twitched in frustration. It made
him feel like the proverbial spider, inviting in the fly. A monster
luring a beautiful young maiden into his dark cave.

His body tightened as she moved into the
room, making him feel even more . . . primitive. But there was no
help for it. She wore full skirts in a rich, smoky blue, and a
cunning little matching jacket over a crisp shirt, startlingly
white. Again, his interest peaked. The young women he’d been
exposed to wore wispy day gowns in light fabrics. They looked
fragile—and cold—and projected a fabricated
ennui
. Miss
Moreton looked utterly feminine—the length of those skirts hinted
at shockingly long legs and that jacket emphasized the sleek curves
of her waist and bosom—yet she also looked comfortable, competent
and ready to accomplish . . . whatever she set out to do.

The only incongruity was her downcast gaze.
It made him forget everything, his concerns for his ward, his
frustrations of the morning, in the urge to make her look at him,
to make her see that he was more than a hulking beast of a man.

“I wanted to check with you, see how you’ve
settled in.”

“Fine, thank you, my lord.” She breathed
deep, then lifted her gaze to meet his directly. “I’d like to thank
you for giving me a chance.”

“I admit I’m inclined to believe my instincts
were right. Aurelia appears happier in the last few days.” His
mouth quirked. “I’ve even made a bit of progress with my projects,
since I’ve not been called away to fetch her from the museum.” He
watched her closely. “Has she asked you to escort her there?”

“She has not, although she’s mentioned the
place more than once.”

“I wasn’t over the shock of finding her and
Freddy’s solicitor on my front stoop before she asked me to take
her. We’ve been once or twice a week since then.” He grimaced. “And
that doesn’t count all the times she slipped away and went on her
own.”

“Was it a place that she visited often with
her parents?”

He sighed. “From what I can gather.”

“She must feel a connection with them when
she’s there. It was kind of you, then, to give her the shadow box,
so can feel something similar here at home.”

“Freddy Tierney was my closest friend. I’ll
do anything I can to see his daughter happy.” He rose and moved to
contemplate the closed doors that connected the room to his
laboratory. “What she needs is new connections. People and things
to anchor her here, to her new life.” He cast a glance over his
shoulder at her. “It’s what I was hoping you could provide, should
you be right for the position.”

He watched her shift in her seat. “Aurelia is
a lovely child. I’m growing fonder of her by the hour—but I’m
afraid I meant it when I said I could only accept a temporary
position.”

Edmund turned to face her. “I have to ask,
Miss Moreton, just how much of a chance did I take? I know you
weren’t sent by the agency.”

“They sent word?” she whispered.

“No.” He breathed deep. “But I’ve had
experience with my share of lies. I know when someone is
prevaricating.”
I’m pleased to introduce you to my daughter,
Lord Cotwell.
Or
Thank you, sir, but I’ve just injured my
ankle and won’t be dancing more this evening.
“But Aurelia
wanted you.”

Her gaze dropped again. “I apologize for my
part in the deception.”

“I went along with it, because, as I said,
I’ll do a great deal to see Aurelia happy. I’ve watched you with
her. I don’t believe you to be a danger to the child or to anyone,
but I have to ask, are
you
in danger? Or in trouble with the
authorities?

“No, sir. Nothing like that.” She lifted her
chin. “It’s only that I find myself in need of a new position.”

He studied her, sure that there was more to
her story than she admitted. Nothing about her hinted at any
experience in service. She possessed assurance and grace, spoke and
acted like a gentlewoman. “If you will not reconsider staying on,
then I regret to inform you that I feel I must find your
replacement sooner, rather than later. Constancy and consistency
are things that Aurelia needs right now.”

“I understand. She’s had a difficult
time.”

“More than you know. The damned school she
was attending was less than sympathetic to her loss. They sent
strident letters to Freddy’s man, demanding to know who would be
paying for her tuition and upkeep. I don’t think the child had a
kind or comforting word from her teachers or any of the
students.”

Miss Moreton visibly bristled. “How
shameful!”

“Worse came after.” He paused, getting a
stranglehold on the anger that surged every time he thought about
what happened. “You see, I am one of Aurelia’s trustees. It’s a
responsibility I agreed to soon after her birth. But she is not
legally my ward. Another of Freddy’s friends, the man I share
trustee duties with, was named guardian in the will.”

She stilled. “But then, why . . . ?”

He slammed a fist backward, hitting the
closed door with a powerful, echoing blow. “Because the damned
selfish bastard turned her away, as if she were a stray cat!” God,
he’d never been so angry in his life when he’d heard the
solicitor’s story. Fury pumped through his blood now, too, but he
noticed the pallor growing in Miss Moreton’s face and struggled to
contain it. “Forgive me,” he said curtly. “I’ve borne the brunt of
that devil’s egocentric manner myself, but it couldn’t have come at
a worse time for the child.”