The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (36 page)

“Should we? I mean, should we wait for Roxleigh?” Shaw asked.

“Like hell!” Perry carefully placed both hands on the panel. He pushed gently at first, checking the borders of the door around the frame. He glanced at Shaw, who appeared eager to follow, and Perry pushed the panel harder, the hinges groaning against the intrusion. He stepped carefully over the threshold. There were windows somewhere in the room because he could see light, but couldn’t tell what it was filtering through—some sort of fabric?

He looked back to make sure Shaw was still following and then grasped one of the translucent panels. Dust wafted down around him as he felt the soft, undulating cloth.

“It must be silk chiffon,” Shaw said. “That would cost a fortune. Look at all of it.”

Perry gazed at him questioningly.

“Well, even wealthy men have limits, or they should at any rate. This is an extravagant type of purchase. These walls must be thirty feet high, which makes the use of silk chiffon an exorbitant expense.”

Perry thought about it as he walked through the panels, deeper into the room toward the light. “Shaw, look at this,” he said excitedly.

“Now
that
is what I would call beyond reasonable.”

“I would have to agree.”

They walked toward the bathtub, and Perry reached for the faucet.

“I wouldn’t try that,” Shaw said, shaking his head. “You have no idea of the source, do you? It could be an old well, or an empty cistern. We should attempt to trace the lines before using them. I wouldn’t want to cause irreparable damage.”

Perry grunted and turned to the windows, where the shutters were pulled away, like giant boxes with small openings to allow a bit of light. They served to funnel the light, letting it spill from the top and illuminating the fabric panels.

Perry walked past, examining the shutters. He came to the one at the end, which looked damaged, and he took a hold of the shutter. As he opened it, the hinges on the side of it gave way with a loud creak. It shook as it broke away from the wall, crashing to the floor, taking several of the sheer fabric panels with it. He and Shaw covered their faces, turning from the cloud of dust rising around them.

Shaw peered back at the large piece of wood on the floor. “I think perhaps we should limit our explorations of the room until we can properly judge its safety.”

“Perhaps that is wise,” Perry replied with a cough. He walked over to the now-uncovered window and looked out to the northern side of the meadow. “It’s rather ingenious, really. I suppose none of us walked around counting the windows, and it appears as if the boxes would have prevented us from seeing inside to wonder what this room was.”

“Yes. Though the way they directed the light would be more effective if the windows were clean. There’s not much light coming through them now. Shall we, perhaps, go out to the garden and see if we can locate the windows from below?” Shaw asked.

Perry shook his head and smiled. “Where is your sense of adventure?” He chuckled, then heard another groan of wood from somewhere in the room. “Ah, on second thought, let’s do go out. I will have Stapleton make arrangements to clean and uncover the remaining windows.”

Francine straightened her skirts as Gideon sat with his back up against the trunk of a tree. He reached for the wine and read the label, then smiled. Picking up the wine goblets and filling them about half-full, he handed Francine a glass and lifted his to hers. “A willing foe and sea room,” he said. They touched glasses, and she looked at him, befuddled, as she drank. He laughed. “Royal Navy toast...and it is Friday.”

She shook her head, still not quite understanding the reference.
Navy, huh?
How very
Officer and a Gentleman
,
she thought with a smile.

He reached into the basket and pulled out a small bundle of ripe strawberries. He started to remove his riding gloves, but she grasped his hands, loosening them finger by finger before she pulled them off and massaged his palms. He picked up one of the berries and, dipping it in the crème fraîche, lifted it to her lips. She bit into the plump fruit, sighing at the fresh, sweet flavor.

Navy?
she signed as he fed her another strawberry.

He nodded. “Both Perry and I served in the Royal Navy. It isn’t expected of the peerage to serve, and even when done the heir stays at home for safety. My brother had something to prove. I followed. As it happened he was well suited to the sea, while there was little use for me there. There’s not much to tell beyond that. It gave me a sense of belonging, a desire for that type of camaraderie. Brought Perry and me closer.”

How?
she signed.

He smiled. “Before the Navy, I thought of him only as a child. A spoiled, impossible child who couldn’t take care of himself. He proved to be a taut hand, moving up ranks quickly, working hard, commanding his own vessel. It was quite a feat, considering his age. Actually, he only returned recently. I have been back since Darius, my sire, passed. Nearly four years,” he said as he looked away, his features darkening. “My father wasn’t close to us. I believe he loved my mother uncontrollably, and when she fell ill he was destroyed. He withdrew, unable to accept the circumstances. Though I don’t know the truth of it, as we never spoke of anything of consequence. This is all conjecture on my part. I suppose trying to reconcile that missing part of my life. Perhaps that was partly why we both abandoned him.” He turned back and smiled at her, but it didn’t reach beyond his lips. She placed her hand on his, and they sat quietly.

He reached up and grasped a tendril of her hair, smoothing it between his fingers. “Tis a warm, rich color,” he said softly.

She smiled.
Mother-number-three always said it was the color of Kansas wheat at harvest,
she signed.

His fingers stilled as he looked at her. “Kansas—in the colonies? What would you be doing there?”

Her chin dropped and turned away as she realized her error. Then, thinking about his statement, she became defensive. “I was never there, but I believe they prefer to be referred to as the United States of America,” she whispered sternly.

“I beg your pardon, my lady,” he said with a chuckle. “Kansas wheat must be a sight. I would have likened it more to a blonde than your brunette color,” he said as he smiled wryly.

Centuries pass and still the grudge?
she signed.

“It’s a family grudge, far be it for me to let it lie. What of this ‘mother-number-three’? Did the nuns in the convent not have names?”

She laughed, trying hard to stifle it, to no avail.
Well,
she signed finally,
they do all dress alike.

His head fell back as booming laughter broke loose from his chest. It sent a shiver through her. He reached for another strawberry and she signed,
I have sisters?
He poured a little more honey mead into her glass, dropping the strawberry to the bottom, and told her about the eldest sister and the two younger ones that were also now wards of his brother. She could tell he didn’t go into everything they had learned about M. Larrabee and her betrothed, Lord Hepplewort.

Carole walked back into the meadow with a small basket filled with dark berries, and Gideon and Francine stood. The servant swept up the remains of the picnic in the blanket, securing it to her saddle as he checked the horses.

Francine waited patiently with Delilah, but Gideon took the mare by the rein and led her to Kalliope, fastening her to the back of the saddle.

Francine looked up at him, confused.

“We shouldn’t test you overmuch. That was quite a ride.” He held his hand out to her.

She walked over and he swept her up astride Samson, then in one lithe movement he mounted the horse behind her. She drew in a sharp breath as his body settled closely to her, his chest pushing against her back and the feel of him sending a chill across her skin.

He reached around her, grasping the rein and turning the horse toward the stables as Carole followed.

He pushed Samson into a trot, bouncing them gently together, creating a warm friction. Then he leaned into her as he urged Samson to a gallop. Francine sank back into his sinewy frame, resting her hands on his thighs, reveling at the smooth movement of the muscles beneath his skin. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, feeling the rush of air as it hit her face and stole her breath. His muscles tensed and hardened behind her, moving with her.

She sighed. It was heavenly.

He slowed the horse to a walk.

She could have easily been lulled to sleep. She reached up, stroking his defined jaw, then put her hands on the pommel. “Hepplewhatsit,” she whispered, before she realized she’d spoken aloud.

“Shh,” he said. “I already warned you about speaking.” He paused. “Hepple
wort
.”

“Betrothed?” she whispered against his jaw.

“You really are tempting a dragon, my lady,” he said, laughing. “Yes, betrothed. I believe you tried to get away from him, and he set his hounds—” He stopped and she looked up, trying to see his face.

“No!” His face paled. “Lilly,” he whispered. “Why did I not see this? We need to get back to the manor.” He took off for the paddock, yelling for Davis. Her hands tightened on his thighs as they ran and she couldn’t help but to smile, even with the concern she’d heard laced through his voice.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Davis answered, running from the stable toward the field. Gideon halted a few feet away, jumping down and pulling Francine with him.

“Watch for Carole, she’s just over the rise.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“As soon as Carole gets here, I want you to ready the carriage.”

“Your Grace, Grover and Gentry have the carriage to Kelso, but they should be returning soon. Should I prepare your curricle?”

“Damn it all!” Gideon cursed. His voice overwhelmed the meadow and Davis jumped at the sound. “No, thank you, Davis. It’s much too far for the curricle and I don’t yet trust the mares.”

Francine paled. She had never seen him so angry, but she wasn’t as much terrified as she was worried for him. She tried to reach for him, but he was unaware.

“Let me know as soon as they arrive, and switch the horses if they need rest,” he said finally.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Davis replied shakily as he took Samson. Gideon turned and strode toward the manor, tugging Francine behind him as she squealed in surprise.

Perry and Shaw followed the passage down to the kitchen and called for Stapleton.

“Stapleton, in the passage behind the family suites we have opened a room.” Perry saw Stapleton frown, but went on. “I have left the panel open. I would appreciate it if, carefully, you could have some men remove the window covers and clean the windows. Perhaps you could also have the fabric panels removed for cleaning, though I’m not sure they are in good enough condition to retain. I suppose the servants will figure that out when they pull them down.”

Stapleton nodded and left the kitchen.

Perry saw Chef glaring at the filthy intruders in her workspace, so he and Shaw turned and also left the kitchen.

They strolled outside and gazed up at the manor. “It should have been obvious. Look how dark they are,” Shaw said.

“Yes, but they are also above the orangery, out of the way of a more direct line of sight.” Perry wanted a better view and turned to walk farther away from the manor, then stopped. Gideon was pulling Francine briskly behind him, his face carved in anger. Perry frowned, then ran into the manor to meet him, leaving Shaw staring after.

“There’s probably no way to prove it was him,” Perry said wearily. “Rox—”

“What?” Gideon asked, looking up at his brother from the other side of the desk.

“I said... We probably won’t be able to prove it was him,” Perry repeated to his brother, who was quite obviously not paying attention.

“Yes, I know. I was just trying to think of something. Anything. He shouldn’t be able to get away with what he did to Lilly and Francine. I won’t let him.”

“Gideon. We have to find out where Hepplewort is. Francine doesn’t remember anything, and what Lilly does— It puts them both in a great deal of danger. Lilly should be protected. If we could find him—”