Authors: Wendy Soliman
“Good morning. I trust you didn’t experience too much difficulty in getting away?’
“Actually it was surprisingly easy.” She pulled her dogs back, ineffective in her efforts to prevent them from leaping up at Sebastian. “Down, Marcus. Leave it, Marius.” The dogs ignored her command and continued introducing themselves. “These are my collies. I’m afraid they’re rather lively just at the moment, and more than a little disgruntled. You see, they’re accustomed to having freedom to roam the estate in Cornwall and take great exception to being leashed.”
“Collies?” Sebastian raised a brow as he scratched the ears of first one distinctly non-pedigree dog and then the other.
“Yes well, perhaps they’re not pure-bred collies, but they don’t know that and I don’t want to offend them by mentioning it in their hearing. They were going to be drowned as puppies because no one wanted them.” Anger flashed through her remarkable eyes. “Their lineage is hardly their fault, and they were so adorable I simply couldn’t permit that to happen.”
“They’re fine beasts.”
“I agree. And don’t forget Marcus repaid my faith in him by saving my life on that rope bridge.”
“So he did.” Sebastian smiled at her fierce loyalty toward her unlikely-looking pets. “Perhaps you maid could take charge of them while we discuss our business.”
“Certainly.”
“Now then, what information have you managed to compile for me?” he asked, watching the maid struggling to remain on her feet as the boisterous beasts dragged her in the direction of nearby bushes.
Chapter Five
Abbey produced her list from her reticule. “I’ve made it as comprehensive as possible but may not have included all of the servants.” She sent him an apologetic smile. “There are so many of them that it’s difficult to recall.”
“For now I wish to concentrate upon the people above stairs. If servants are involved they will only be so because they’re acting upon orders from their masters.”
“Yes, very likely.”
Lord Denver took the list and scanned it, quickly becoming absorbed. Abbey sat perfectly still, taking advantage of his preoccupation to admire his noble profile, the evenness of his features and the reassuring intelligence reflected in his eyes. He had removed his hat and the thick mass of hair spilling across his collar and lifting in the breeze fascinated her so much that she had difficulty averting her gaze. Goodness knows why. It was hardly as if she hadn’t seen a man with a fine head of hair before. Perhaps she was sickening for something.
Strangely disconcerted by his close proximity she focused, with what she hoped would pass for detached interest, upon the elegance of the long fingers which curved around the edges of the paper. That didn’t work too well because she recalled the manner in which those same fingers had once so skilfully caressed her face.
Oh lord, what’s wrong with me?
Abbey felt heat invading her body in response to her inappropriate thoughts. Worse, that wretched fizzing had started up again. This really wouldn’t do. She blamed the sight of his muscular thighs encased in tight-fitting inexpressibles for exacerbating her discomfort and moved slightly away from him, extending the already respectable amount of daylight which separated their bodies.
Still totally absorbed with her list, Lord Denver appeared oblivious to her presence. She had obviously been correct to assume the passionate nature of the kiss they’d shared had been nothing out of the ordinary for a man of his reputation. Unlike her it wouldn’t have troubled his mind since, keeping him awake as he wondered, speculated and became filled with ambiguous longing.
Abbey squared her shoulders, assembling the remnants of her dignity as best she could. As God was her witness, Lord Denver would never learn just how extensively his practised embrace had agitated her fledgling passions. What amusement that would create if it became public knowledge. Abigail Carstairs, feted heiress who was already being described as the catch of the season, throwing her cap at possibly the only man in London who wasn’t interested in pursuing her.
***
Sebastian looked up from Lady Abigail’s list but she didn’t seem to notice. Sebastian wondered what thoughts so comprehensively occupied her mind.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” he said.
“By all means.” She canted her head and sent him a puzzled smile. “But where, precisely,
is
the beginning?”
“Well, you’ve commenced your list with your aunt and uncle, who are your guardians, so that’s as good a place as any.”
“Yes, but as I’ve already told you—”
Sebastian halted her protests with a wave of his hand. “Very well, we’ll leave them aside for now. Who do we have next?” Without waiting for her answer, Sebastian read the next name from the list. “Lord Tobias Bevan, your uncle and aunt’s eldest son and heir, and your first cousin?”
“Yes, Tobias is married to Cassandra. They have two boys away at school and two younger daughters.”
“And they live where?’
“In the summer they reside at Castleray but during the season they live in my uncle’s town house in Curzon Street.”
“You’re not living there with them?”
“No, as it’s my first season my uncle decided to open the Penrith House in Belgravia.”
“Which is part of your inheritance?”
“Yes.”
“How does Tobias occupy his time?”
“He’s independently wealthy, having inherited money from his grandfather. He also helps with the running of my uncle’s estates, which seems only right since they will be his one day.”
“Are you and your cousin on good terms?”
“He is a good deal older than me. Over thirty now. When I removed to Castleray he was on his grand tour and so I saw nothing of him. When he returned he spent his time in London and married Cassandra one year later. She brought a substantial dowry to the marriage, so I can’t see any reason to suspect either of them. My relationship with them both is amiable and they have nothing to gain by harming me.”
Not immediately, Sebastian thought, but when Bevan passed Tobias would inherit everything. Ergo, Tobias had a very great deal to gain, especially if he had expensive habits Lady Abigail was unaware of, or had ambitions that required substantial blunt to see them through.
Sebastian kept such thoughts to himself, sensing they wouldn’t be well received, and went to the next name on the list.
“Your uncle’s second son, Harold, is a clergyman?”
“Yes, and he now has the living at Penrith, which is a rich one. I know it’s traditional for younger sons to go into the army, the law or the church but in Harold’s case his profession was of his own choosing. He too inherited from his grandfather and could have remained idle if he had preferred to, but I can’t remember a time when he didn’t wish to take holy orders.” Lady Abigail’s smile brimmed with love and approval. “He’s quite one of the best men of my acquaintance.”
“You like and approve of your younger cousin, Lady Abigail?”
“Indeed, yes. He’s five years older than me, and has always been so very kind. He alone appeared to appreciate my turmoil when…” Her words trailed off and she averted her gaze.
He briefly covered one of her hands with his own and as quickly removed it again. “Go on.”
“Only Harold seemed to notice just how desperately unhappy I felt when I first removed to Castleray. Everyone else was kind but too concerned about the implications for the duchy to pay me much heed. Harold alone saw that I was completely lost and more than a little bewildered. I was quite out of charity with God, too, for taking Mama and Papa from me far sooner than He had any right to demand their company. I couldn’t understand why He would do such an iniquitous thing. I mean, Mama and Papa had never done anyone deliberate harm, and so it made no sense at all to a bewildered ten-year-old.” She stopped talking and impatiently dashed away tears with the back of her hand.
“A perfectly natural reaction.”
When Sebastian noticed her tears, it took every ounce of his self-discipline not to pull her into his arms and comfort her in the way that sprang spontaneously to mind. Perdition, had they not been in a public place, that’s precisely what he would have done! What the devil was the minx doing to him? Whatever it was, he was pretty sure she had no idea of the profound affect her dilemma had on him, and that was the way he intended for it to remain.
“Harold found the time to talk to me about it for hours,” she said when she recovered her composure. “He explained God’s purpose is not always immediately clear, but He wouldn’t have chosen my parents without good reason. It helped a little to talk to someone who might, just possibly, have God’s ear. What’s more, his way of putting things was so simple, his faith so unshakeable, it even made sense to one as angry and confused as I was. That’s why, when the Penrith living fell vacant two years ago, I was delighted when my uncle suggested Harold was deserving of it.”
“And Harold’s wife?”
“Mary’s an ideal cleric’s spouse. She’s the daughter of my godfather’s late steward, and much spiteful gossip ensued when she married Harold.”
Sebastian arched a brow. “Why?”
“Well, you know how people can be. It was suggested she’d bewitched Harold so she could marry a man above her station. That was just silly gossip, of course, and she’s proved her critics entirely wrong.” Lady Abigail lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance Sebastian was already starting to recognise. “She has a calm disposition, doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body and is able to connect with the villagers as well as fitting comfortably amongst the gentry.”
“A paragon?”
“Absolutely.” Lady Abigail was momentarily silent. “Perhaps Mary isn’t as beautiful as Tobias’s Cassandra, but looks aren’t everything. Besides, she possesses a unique inner beauty, which those of us who know her well can’t help but admire. They have three delightful daughters, who are often at Castleray, and Mary’s an excellent mother.”
Sebastian said nothing. In his experience, when someone sounded too good to be true, they almost always were. Lady Abigail clearly liked and respected her cousin’s wife, so he hoped for her sake that Mary Bevan was the exception to that rule.
“And your third cousin is Beatrice. She of the trousseau.”
“Yes, and if you think—”
“Indeed, my lady, I wouldn’t dare.” His faux alarm was rewarded with a slight upward turn of her lips. “Miss Bevan is engaged to Lord Woodley?”
“Yes, and takes a good dowry into the marriage. Besides, Lord Woodley is very comfortably situated.”
Sebastian stretched his legs in front of him and abandoned his efforts to ignite her laughter. For now. “All right then, now to your godfather.”
“Lord Wilsden’s a widower. Wilsden House is five miles from Penrith Hall and there’s been a friendship between the two families for generations.”
“Hence his being your godfather?”
“Quite.”
“And Wilsden’s children?”
“His elder son, Gerald, is married to Elizabeth. They live at Wilsden House and Gerald helps run his father’s estates. Since Lord Wilsden spends much of his own time attending to my affairs, or at Court, it is a very convenient arrangement.”
Something about the nature of Lady Abigail’s clipped response struck a chord with Sebastian. “You don’t care for Gerald?”
“I have little to do with him,” she replied evasively. “He, like my cousin Tobias, is a good deal older than me and our paths seldom cross. But when they do we’re perfectly comfortable with one another.”
Sebastian didn’t think she was being entirely candid but didn’t press her. “And his second son?”
“Charles.” Lady Abigail’s evasive expression gave way to a natural smile. “He too helps with the running of the estates, and isn’t married.” When Sebastian looked at her askance, she elaborated. “My godfather is wealthy and didn’t press Charles to pick an occupation. Anyway, I’m given to understand that Charles showed no interest in any of the usual professions. He’s a charming person, but terribly idle. He didn’t actually complete his tenure at university.”
“He was sent down?”
“I’m unsure.” She spread her hands. “Charles is amusing company but he doesn’t care to be burdened with too much responsibility.”
“Except for you?”
Abbey coloured. “What makes you say that?”
“Am I right?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so. He does try to make himself agreeable whenever we meet, but then we’ve always been good friends.”
“Do you encourage his attentions?”
“They aren’t attentions precisely.”
“Then what are they, precisely?”
“I…well if you must know, it’s like kissing a gaping trout!”
Sebastian chuckled at the way she screwed her features. He also made a large mental mark beside Charles Wilsden’s name.
“How does Charles occupy his time, when he’s not making amorous advances towards you?”
“He’s obsessed with anything related to sport, but then isn’t that the case with most single gentlemen of means?”
Sebastian conceded the point with a slight inclination of his head. “Quite frequently, yes.”
“Charles’s particular passion is curricle racing. He takes it very seriously and devotes much of his attention to it.”
“An expensive pastime,” observed Sebastian.
“Yes, but Charles is a familiar figure at Tattersall’s. He prides himself upon being able to recognise good horse flesh. He buys youngsters and breaks them to the harness himself. He also loves to hunt and is, so my cousin Bea would have it, a frequent visitor to Gentleman Jackson’s Saloon.”
Sebastian upgraded his mild suspicions in respect of Charles Wilsden. Purchasing and maintaining horse flesh was an expensive exercise. Boxing and curricle racing required a substantial amount of ready blunt because no one indulged in those sports without also placing heavy wagers.
“And these other gentlemen on the list. In what manner are they related to you?”
Lady Abigail blushed. “They are a few of the gentlemen in our circle whom I meet quite regularly.”
“And who have designs upon marriage to you?”
She shrugged. “Possibly, but my uncle agreed I should be presented and enjoy one season before I settle down and do what’s expected of me. That being the case, he won’t entertain any offers for me unless I tell him I’ve had a change of heart.”