"On the contrary," she announced in a cool, crisp voice that brooked no argument. "Monkcrest Abbey is our destination. Kindly inform his lordship that he has guests. I am Mrs. Beatrice Poole. I have my maid with me. We expect to spend the night."
Finch drew himself up to his full height. He towered over Beatrice Poole, who was, Leo noticed, not especially tall. What she lacked in stature, however, she more than compensated for with a commanding air that would have done Wellington proud.
"His lordship does not see uninvited guests," Finch rasped.
"Nonsense. He will see me."
W i t h
R n g
"Madam-" "I assure you, I will not leave here until I have spoken
with him." Beatrice glanced into the coach. "Come, Sally. We have endured the storm long enough. This sort of weather may do very well for the setting of a novel, but it is most inconvenient in real life."
"That ees a fact, madam." A buxom, sturdy-figured woman allowed herself to be handed down from the coach. "Ees no good night for man nor beast, nest-ce pas?"
Leo raised his brows at the excruciatingly bad French accent. He was willing to wager that whoever Sally was, she had never spent so much as an hour in France.
"We shall soon be warm and dry," Beatrice said. "Hold, here." Finch spread his arms to block access to the front steps. "You cannot simply invite yourselves into Monkcrest Abbey."
"I certainly have not come all this distance to be turned aside," Beatrice informed him. "I have business with his lordship. If you are not going to escort us into the house in a civil fashion, be so good as to stand aside."
"His lordship gives the orders around here,' Finch said in his most forbidding tones.
"I am quite certain that if he knew what was happening out here, he would immediately order you to invite us into his home."
"Which only goes to show how little you know about his lordship," Finch retorted.
"I have heard that the Earl of Monkcrest is a noted eccentric," Beatrice said. "But I refuse to believe that he would consign two helpless, innocent, exhausted women to the gaping jaws of this dreadful storm."
"The lady has a rather dramatic turn of phrase, does she not?" Leo absently scratched Elf's ears. "Something tells me that our Mrs. Poole is neither helpless nor innocent. And she does not appear to be particularly exhausted either."
Elf wriggled one ear.
"Any lady who would dare to come to Monkcrest on a night like this without an invitation and accompanied only by her maid is no delicate flower."
Elf shifted, pressing closer to the open window.
Finch, arms flung wide, retreated up the steps. "Madam, I must insist that you get back into the coach." "Don't be ridiculous.' Beatrice advanced on him with
the determination of a field marshal.
Leo smiled slightly. "Poor Finch doesn't stand a chance, Elf."
"See here." Desperation had crept into Finch's voice. "There is an inn on the outskirts of the village. You may spend the night there. I shall inform his lordship that you wish to speak with him in the morning. If he is agreeable, I will send word to you."
"I will spend the night under this roof and so will those who accompany me." She waved a hand toward the coachman. "Show John, here, to clean, dry quarters. He will also require a mug of ale and a hot meal. I fear the brave man had the worst of it during that nasty drive. I do not want him to take a chill. My maid will, of course, stay with me.'
The coachman favored Finch with a triumphant grin. "Nothing fancy for me, mind you. A few slices of ham, a bit of eel pie if you've got any on hand, and the ale will do. Although I am partial to puddings."
"Do make certain he gets a pudding and everything else he wants," Beatrice said. "He deserves it after that unfortunate encounter with the highwayman."
"Highwayman?" Finch stared at her.
"Eet was a most'orrible experience." Sally put her hand to her throat and gave a visible shudder. "Such villains, they do not 'esitate to ravish innocent females such as Madam and moi, y'know. Bloody good luck it was that we wasn't-"
"That's quite enough, Sally," Beatrice interrupted briskly. "There is no need to add more melodrama to the tale. We both came through it without any ill effects."
"What's this about a highwayman?" Finch demanded. "There are no highwaymen on Monkcrest lands. None would dare come here."
"Yes, what is this about a highwayman?" Leo repeated softly. He leaned farther out the window.
"The thief was operating on the other side of the river," Beatrice explained. "Just beyond the bridge. A nasty sort. Fortunately I had my pistol with me andJohnwas also armed. Between the two of us, we managed to discourage him."
The coachman grinned at Finch. "The villain didn't take much notice of me, mind you. It was Mrs. Poole who put the fear o' God in him. I got the impression he'd never confronted a lady with a pistol. Mayhap he'll think twice before he tries to rob the next coach.'
Finch dismissed the minor details. "If you encountered him on the other side of the river, then he was not on Monkcrest lands."
"I don't see what difference it makes," Beatrice said. "A highwayman is a highwayman.'
"So long as he stays off Monkcrest lands, it will not be necessary for his lordship to concern himself with the problem," Finch pointed out.
"How very convenient for his lordship," Beatrice said. "Madam, you do not appear to understand the situation," Finch snapped. "His lordship is most particular about certain things."
"As am 1. After you have seen to John, you may have a tray of hot tea and something substantial sent up to Sally and me. Once we have refreshed ourselves, I will see his lordship."
" 'Ere now, put a pint o' gin on that tray, sil vous plait," Sally said. "For medicinal purposes."
Beatrice picked up her skirts and made to step around Finch. "If you would be so good as to get out of the way?" "Monkcrest Abbey is not a bloody inn, Mrs. Poole," Finch roared.
Q u i c,k
"In which case the service and the fare should be vastly superior to the sort we were obliged to put up with on the road last night. Kindly inform his lordship that I shall be ready to meet with him in half an hour."
The wind caught the hood of Beatrice's cloak at that moment and tugged the garment back from her face. For the first time, Leo saw her features illuminated in the light that spilled through the open doorway.
He was able to discern a clear profile composed of a high, intelligent forehead, an assertive nose, and an, elegantly angled jaw before Beatrice got the hood back over her head. She was in her late twenties, perilously close to thirty, he concluded, and adept at wielding her innate gift for authority. Definitely a woman of the world. The sort who always got her own way.
"Tell his lordship you'll see him in half an hour?" Finch hunched his shoulders and lowered his head as if he were a bull preparing to charge. "One doesn't order his lordship about as if he were a bloody footman, madam."
"Heavens, I would not think of giving orders to the Earl of Monkcrest," Beatrice said smoothly. "But I would have thought that his lordship would wish to be kept apprised of events under his own roof."
"I can promise you, madam, that his lordship has ways of knowing everything that happens in his own house and on Monkcrest lands," Finch said ominously. "Ways that are beyond the ken of ordinary folk, if you take my meaning."
"I assume you refer to those interesting rumors concerning his lordship's habit of dabbling in supernatural matters. Personally I don't believe a word of it."
"Mayhap you should, madam. For your own sake." Beatrice chuckled. "Do not try to frighten me, my good man. You waste your time. I don't doubt that the local villagers relish such tales. But I consider myself an authority on that sort of thing, and I do not put any credence in the nonsense I have heard."
W i t h T h i s R i n g
Leo frowned. "An authority? What the devil does she mean by that, I wonder."
Elf sniffed the air.
On the forecourt Beatrice had obviously reached the limits of her patience. "Sally, we are not going to stand out here another moment. Let us go inside."
She moved with a swiftness that clearly took Finch by surprise.
Leo watched with reluctant admiration as she stepped nimbly around the butler. She swept past him up the stone steps and disappeared through the door into the hall. Sally followed close on her heels.
Finch stared after the pair, openmouthed.
The coachman clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. "Don't blame yourself, man. In the short while that I've been in her employ, I've discovered that Mrs. Poole is a force of nature. Once she's set her course, the best thing to do is get out of her way.'
"How long have you been with her?" Finch asked blankly.
"She hired me just yesterday morning to bring her here to Monkcrest. But that's long enough to tell me a good deal about the lady. One thing I'll say for her, unlike most of the fancy, she looks after her staff. We ate well on the road. And she never shouts and curses at a man like some I could name." *
Finch stared at the empty steps. "I must do something about her. His lordship will be furious."
"I wouldn't fret about your master if I were you," the coachman said cheerfully. "Mrs. Poole will deal with him, even if he is a bit odd, as some say."
"You don't know his lordship."
"No, but as I said, I do know something of Mrs. Poole. Your Mad Monk is about to meet his match."
Leo stepped back and closed the window. "The coachman may have a point, Elf. A prudent man would no doubt
Q u i c. k
exert a great deal of caution in any dealings with the formidable Mrs. Poole."
Elf gave the canine equivalent of a shrug and padded back to the hearth.
"I wonder why she has come here." Leo shoved a hand through his damp hair. "I suppose there is only one way to discover the answer to that."
Elf, as usual, did not respond. He settled down in front of the fire and closed his eyes. 4
Leo sighed as he reached for the bellpull to summon Finch. "I shall no doubt regret this. But on the positive side, the evening promises to become vastly more interesting than it was an hour ago."
Beatrice took a deep swallow of the piping hot tea. "Wonderful. This is just the tonic I needed."
Sally studied the contents of the tray the maid had brought up from the kitchens. "There ain't no bloody gin." She glared at the hapless girl. "See 'ere, where's me gin?"
The maid flinched. "Cook sent some of her own. It's in the decanter."
"In that fancy little bottle, is it?" Sally eyed the small crystal decanter dubiously. "I reckon it'll do." She poured herself a hefty draft and swallowed half of it in one gulp. "Mais o ui. '
Vastly relieved, the maid bent to the task of arranging the toast and slices of cold fish pie.
"Bloody'ell." Sally took another sip from her glass and collapsed on a chair in front of the fire. "I thought we would never get here, ma'am. What with that highwayman and the storm. Ye'd think some diabolical supernatural forces were at work tryin'to keep us away from this place, nest-ce pas?" "Don't be ridiculous, Sally."
The dishes on the tea tray clattered loudly. Beatrice heard a small, startled gasp.
"Oh," the maid whispered. "Sorry, ma'am."
T h i s
Beatrice glanced at the girl and saw that she was young. No more than sixteen at the most. "Is something wrong?'
"No, ma'am." The maid hastily adjusted the plates and straightened the pot of jam. "Nothing's wrong.-
Beatrice frowned. "What is your name?" "Alice, ma'am.'
"You look as if you've just seen a ghost, Alice. Are you ill?"
"No. Honest, ma'am." Alice wiped her hands nervously on her apron. "'I'm healthy as a horse, as me ma would say. Really I am."
"I'm delighted to hear that."
Sally eyed Alice with a considering look. "She looks scared to death if ye ask me."
Alice drew herself up proudly. "I'm not scared of anything."
"Au contrary," Sally said grandly. "Au contraire," Beatrice murmured. "Au contraire," Sally dutifully repeated.
Alice looked at Sally with great curiosity. "Cook says yer a fancy French lady's maid. Is that true?" "Absolument.' Sally glowed with pride. "Back in Lon-
don all the fine ladies prefer to hire French maids, just like they prefer French dressmakers and hatmakers and such.' "Oh." Alice was suitably impressed.
Beatrice frowned. "Alice, surely you do not fear your master's reaction to my unexpected visit here tonight. In spite of what the butler said, I cannot believe his lordship would blame his staff for my presence under his roof."
"No, ma'am," Alice said quickly. "It ain't that. I've only worked here for a few weeks, but I know that his lordship wouldn't blame me for somethin' that wasn't my fault. Everyone knows he's peculiar-" She broke off, obviously horrified by her own words.
"Peculiar?" Sally prompted sharply. "Que cest?' Alice's face turned a very bright shade of red. "Well, he
Q u i c- k
is one of the Mad Monks. Me ma says his father and his grandfather were odd too, but I never meant-"
Beatrice took pity on her. "Calm yourself, Alice. I promise not to tell his lordship that you called him peculiar." Alice struggled valiantly to undo the damage. "What I
meant to say is that everyone on Monkcrest lands knows that the Mad Monks take care of their own. They be good lords, ma'am."
"Then you need not fear his temper." Beatrice smiled. "But just in case anyone in this household has a few concerns on the subject, rest assured that I fully intend to explain matters to your master. When I have finished meeting with him, he will comprehend everything perfectly."
Alice's eyes widened. "But, ma'am, he already does. Know everything perfectly, I mean.'
Sally glowered at her. "What the bloody'ell do ye mean by that?"
Alice did not appear to notice the lapse into English cant. Awe mingled with excitement on her young face. "I heard Finch tell Cook that when he went to inform his lordship that you were here, the earl already knew that you had arrived."