Deception (6 page)

“There are?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I thought we’d settled everything.” Olympia sank back into her chair. She heaved a sensual sounding sigh that in another woman might have been mistaken for passion. “I have never met anyone who has traveled as
widely as yourself, sir. I should dearly love to ask you a great many questions and to verify certain facts that I have gleaned from my books.”

Jared realized that she was gazing at him as though he were the most handsome, the most fascinating, the most desirable man on the face of the earth. No woman had ever looked at him with such unabashed longing. She did not even appear to mind his sightless eye.

He had never considered himself a skilled seducer of women. For one thing he had simply been too busy since the age of nineteen to devote much time to the matter. And, as his father had often pointed out, he seemed to lack the Flamecrest fire.

It was not that he did not experience the normal male appetites, Jared thought. He was only too well acquainted with them. He was very aware of what it was like to lie awake late at night and hunger for a warm, loving woman.

The problem was that it was not his nature to become involved in a series of shallow affairs. The few he had had over the years had left him feeling restless and dissatisfied. He suspected his partners had felt very much the same. As Demetria had taken pains to point out, once one got past his title and expectations, there was nothing very interesting left to discover.

But today some deep masculine instinct told Jared that it would be quite possible for him to seduce Olympia Wingfield. She would not require poems and bouquets and smoldering looks.

All he had to do was ply her with travelers’ tales.

He considered just how he would proceed with the seduction. She would no doubt smile at him for the story of an adventure in Naples or Rome. She would likely melt for a tale of a voyage to America. There was no telling what she would do if he gave her a story of
a journey to the West Indies. His body grew hard as he contemplated the possibilities.

Jared took a deep breath and clamped down on the hot, aching need that had seized his insides. He did what he always did when he felt his self-control slipping. He reached into his inside coat pocket for his appointment journal. He was aware that Olympia watched with interest as he opened it to the page that contained his list of notes for the day.

“First, we should discuss the shipment of goods your uncle entrusted to my care,” Jared said.

“Yes, of course,” she said briskly. “It was very kind of you to escort the shipment to me. Uncle Artemis and I have worked out a very profitable arrangement, as I expect he explained to you. He selects a variety of interesting items in the course of his travels and ships them back to me from various points along the way. I, in turn, sell them to some London merchants.”

Jared tried and failed to envision Olympia as a shrewd merchant of imported luxuries. “Do you mind my asking how you go about finding a buyer for your goods, Miss Wingfield?”

She gave him a sunny smile. “It is really quite simple. One of my neighbors, Squire Pettigrew, has been kind enough to assist me in that regard. He says it is the least he can do out of respect for my dear aunts who were his neighbors for so many years.”

“Just how does Pettigrew handle the goods?”

Olympia waved her hand in a vague gesture. “I believe his man of affairs in London sees to all the details.”

“You are satisfied that Squire Pettigrew’s man of affairs strikes a good bargain?” Jared persisted.

Olympia chuckled. She leaned forward with an air of imparting a deep confidence. “We realized a sum of nearly two hundred pounds off the last shipment.”

“Is that right?”

“Of course, that was an exceptional shipment. Uncle Artemis sent several lengths of silk and a large variety of spices on that occasion. I doubt that we’ll do as well this time.”

Jared thought of the approximately three thousand pounds worth of goods that he had accompanied from France. He had been obliged to hire two burly men to act as guards after the ship had docked in Weymouth.

Jared withdrew a piece of folded foolscap from his journal. “This is a copy of the list of goods your uncle sent to you this time.” He handed the paper to Olympia. “How does it compare with the last shipment?”

Olympia took the sheet of paper from him and perused it with a distracted frown. “I cannot recall all of the items on the previous list but there does not seem to be quite as much lace this time. And I do not see any of those Italian fans Uncle Artemis sent with the last lot.”

“There are several bolts of silk and some velvet in this shipment,” Jared pointed out softly.

Olympia lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug. “Squire Pettigrew tells me that unfortunately the market for silk and velvet is not strong at the moment. All in all, I expect we shall probably not do quite as well as we did on the last shipment. Nevertheless, we’ll see a nice bit of the ready out of it, as my nephews would say.”

Jared wondered how long Squire Pettigrew had been systematically fleecing Olympia. “I have had some experience with the business of importing goods, Miss Wingfield.”

“Have you, indeed?” She looked at him with polite surprise.

“Yes.” Jared reflected briefly on the hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of goods that filled the
holds of Flamecrest ships every year. “If you like, I can deal with this shipment for you.”

“That’s very generous of you.” Olympia was clearly overwhelmed by his helpfulness. “But are you quite certain you wish to undertake such a task? Squire Pettigrew tells me it is a very time-consuming business. He says one must be constantly on the alert for swindlers.”

“I expect he knows what he’s talking about.” Jared privately considered that Pettigrew certainly ought to recognize another swindler when he saw one. “But I believe that I can do at least as well for you as Squire Pettigrew has done in the past. Perhaps better.”

“You must take a suitable commission out of the proceeds, of course.”

“That will not be necessary.” Jared’s calculating brain skimmed over the problem, weighing and assessing the task. He would entrust the goods to his man of affairs, Felix Hartwell. When he sent instructions to Hartwell, he would utilize the opportunity to inquire about any progress that might have been made in the embezzlement situation. “I shall consider the task part of my normal duties as a tutor in this household.”

“You will?” Olympia stared at him in amazement. “How very odd. None of the other tutors offered to extend their services outside the classroom.”

“I trust you will find me useful about the place,” Jared said softly.

The door of the library opened abruptly to admit a stout, sturdy female in an apron and cap. She held a tea tray in her work-reddened hands.

“Here, now, what’s all this about a new tutor?” She glowered at Olympia. “Are ye going to blight the hopes and dreams of yet another poor soul who believes he can instruct those little monsters?”

“My nephews are not monsters.” Olympia gave the older woman a disapproving frown. “Mrs. Bird, this is
Mr. Chillhurst. Uncle Artemis sent him to me and I believe he is going to prove extremely helpful. Mr. Chillhurst, this is Mrs. Bird, my housekeeper.”

There was nothing about Mrs. Bird that put one in mind of a delicate, winged creature of the air, Jared thought. She was a robust woman with a heavy face and a large nose who looked as if she had spent her entire life with both feet flat on the ground. There was a look of wary suspicion in her faded eyes.

“Well, well, well.” Mrs. Bird set the tray down on the desk with a clatter. She peered at Jared as she poured the tea. “So those three hellions upstairs were right. Ye look more like a bloodthirsty pirate than a tutor, Mr. Chillhurst.”

“Do I, indeed?” Jared’s brows rose at the housekeeper’s familiar manner but he noticed that Olympia apparently considered nothing amiss. He accepted the cup and saucer with cool politeness.

“No matter.” Mrs. Bird gave him a considering look. “It’ll take someone who can handle a cutlass and a pistol to keep them rascals in line. Nigh broke the last three men o’ learning that Miss Olympia hired, they did.”

Olympia glanced quickly at Jared. Her eyes filled with anxious alarm. “Really, Mrs. Bird, you mustn’t give Mr. Chillhurst a bad impression.”

“Why not?” Mrs. Bird snorted. “Hell find out the truth soon enough. Be interestin’ to see how long he lasts. Going to put him up in the old gamekeeper’s cottage like ye did the others?”

Olympia smiled at Jared. “Mrs. Bird is speaking of the little cottage at the foot of the lane. Perhaps you noticed it when you arrived?”

“I did. It will do nicely.”

“Excellent.” Olympia looked relieved. “Let’s see now. What else do we need to discuss? Oh, yes. You’re
welcome to join us for meals. There is a room on the floor above which functions very nicely as a schoolroom. And of course you’re free to make use of my library.” She paused, apparently trying to recall anything she might have overlooked. “You may begin your duties in the morning.”

Mrs. Bird rolled her eyes. “What about his wages?” She cast a sidelong glance of warning at Jared. “Ye’ll have to get used to the fact that Miss Olympia ain’t much good at keepin’ accounts. Ye’ll probably have to remind her about yer wages and such. Don’t be shy about it.”

Olympia glared at her. “That is quite enough, Mrs. Bird. You make me sound like a featherbrained idiot. As it happens, Mr. Chillhurst’s wages have been paid in advance by Uncle Artemis. Is that not correct, Mr. Chillhurst?”

“There is no need to concern yourself with my wages, Miss Wingfield,” Jared said gently.

Olympia shot a triumphant look at her housekeeper. “There, you see, Mrs. Bird?”

Mrs. Bird snorted loudly. She did not look entirely convinced but she let the matter drop. “If ye’ll be joinin’ the family at dinner, ye might like to know there’s some claret and sherry in the cellar.”

“Thank you,” Jared said.

“Miss Sophy and Miss Ida always had a sip or two of one or t’other before dinner and a swallow of brandy afore they went to bed. Good for the digestion, y’know. Miss Olympia has carried on the tradition.”

“Especially since my nephews arrived,” Olympia muttered.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bird.” Jared smiled fleetingly at Olympia. “I could do with a glass or two of claret before dinner tonight. It’s been a long trip.”

“I reckon.” Mrs. Bird walked heavily toward the door. “Wonder how long ye’ll last?”

“Long enough,” Jared said. “By the way, Mrs. Bird, what time is dinner served in this household?”

“How should I know? Depends on when Miss Olympia can get those three hellions to the table. They’re never on time for meals. Always got an excuse.”

“I see,” Jared said. “In that case, Mrs. Bird, dinner will be at six tonight and every other night. Anyone who does not appear at the table on time will not eat. Is that clear?”

Mrs. Bird glanced back at him with a somewhat startled look. “Aye, it’s clear enough.”

“Excellent, Mrs. Bird. You may go now.”

She glared at him. “And just who’s givin’ the orders around here now, I’d like to know?”

“Until further notice, I am,” Jared said coolly. He saw Olympia’s eyes start to widen. “On behalf of my employer, of course.”

“Bah. I doubt ye’ll be givin’ orders long,” Mrs. Bird declared as she stalked out of the room.

Olympia bit her lip. “Pay no attention to her, Mr. Chillhurst. She’s a bit brusque, but she means well. Indeed, I don’t know how I could have gotten along without her. She and her late husband were employed by Aunt Sophy and Aunt Ida for years, and she has stayed on with me. I am quite grateful to her. Not everyone wants to work for me, you see. I am considered rather odd here in Upper Tudway.”

Jared saw the faint flicker of old loneliness that appeared in her eyes. “Upper Tudway is no doubt unaccustomed to having a woman of the world in its midst,” he said.

Olympia smiled wryly. “Very true. That’s what Aunt Sophy and Aunt Ida always used to say.”

“Do not concern yourself. I’m sure Mrs. Bird and I will deal well enough with each other.” Jared took a sip of his tea. “There is another matter I wish to speak to you about, Miss Wingfield.”

Olympia’s gaze narrowed in concern. “Have I forgotten something? I fear Mrs. Bird is correct. I am always overlooking some annoying detail that seems extremely trivial to me but which everyone else believes to be vital for one reason or another.”

“You have overlooked nothing of importance,” Jared assured her.

“Thank goodness.” Olympia relaxed back in her chair.

“Your uncle asked me to inform you that in addition to the items that are to be sold, he has also sent along several volumes. One of them is an old diary.”

Olympia’s natural air of delightful distraction vanished in the blink of an eye. Her attention was riveted. “What did you say?”

“There is a volume known as the Lightbourne diary in the shipment of goods, Miss Wingfield.” Jared did not have to wait long for the reaction.

“He found it.”
Olympia sprang to her feet. Her face was flushed with excitement. Her eyes glowed with the brilliance of a turquoise flame. “Uncle Artemis found the Lightbourne diary.”

“That is what he said.”

“Where is it?” Olympia demanded eagerly.

“Packed in
one
of the trunks or crates I brought with me in the carriage. I’m not certain which one.”

Not that he hadn’t been tempted to look for it. But the truth was, there had been no opportunity to stop and search for the diary after the ship had made port. Jared had secured a carriage and the two guards, loaded the crates and trunks aboard, and traveled through the night from Weymouth. He had not stopped until he had
arrived at Upper Tudway. The risk of highwaymen had seemed preferable to the risk of having the goods pilfered by thieves at an inn.

“We must unpack the carriage at once. I cannot wait to see the diary.” Olympia was bubbling over with enthusiasm and excitement.

She rounded the desk, picked up her skirts, and flew toward the door.

Jared watched, bemused, as she dashed out of the library. If he was going to be obliged to live in this chaotic household for a time, he would have to establish his own rules and prepare to enforce them, he told himself. There was no substitute for an orderly routine.