Patricia Wynn (14 page)

“Yes. I can see that you are quite well, my dear. I needn’t have worried. Forgive me for bothering you. I shall be off now,” she finished as she presented her cheek for a kiss.

Susan obliged her gratefully and closed the door behind her back. Then, as soon as her ladyship’s footsteps had disappeared down the hall, she ran back to the bed and called out quietly, “Tom!” At first there was no response and she thought about rifling the bedclothes to search for him, but remembering the curious gleam in his eye, she thought better of it and took a step back from the bed.

“Tom!” she said louder.

Lord Harleston’s face appeared slowly from beneath the covers. Unrepentant, he stretched, then yawned slowly and rolled over to face her, his head resting upon his hand.

Susan watched him with fascination, then started suddenly and perched herself primly upon a chair. “As you perhaps heard, Tom—Lord Harleston, that is—” Susan blushed with annoyance “—Lady Mewhinny’s dresser came to my room just as I was expecting you and insisted upon putting me into this costume. It is not at all what it appears.”

His lordship looked at her sadly and sighed. “It’s not?”

“Of course not,” Susan said, sitting as straight in her chair as she could. The room was chilly and a draft was blowing across her bare feet.

Lord Harleston sighed again. He looked absurdly disappointed. “I thought not,” he said.

If possible, Susan was even more mortified by his response. “You didn’t...?” she ventured.

Tom opened his eyes with a great show of innocence, “The thought never crossed my mind,” he said unconvincingly.

Susan could no longer meet his eyes. “Lord Harleston
,
” she said in a pleading tone, “You could not possibly have thought that I—”

His voice cut across hers kindly, “What is it you needed to speak to me about so urgently, Miss John-stone?”

She looked up and saw his teasing gaze upon her. Suddenly all was right; she should have known he was only roasting her.

“Oh, Lord Harleston,” she said, recalling her worries of earlier in the evening. It seemed hours ago that she had thought of sending for him. “It is Lady Mewhinny’s nephew, Mr. Petworthy! He is planning something horrid, I know! I overheard him talking to his guest, Mr. Sodporth, and they were speaking of Lady Mewhinny in the most disrespectful fashion. He wants her money and I am so afraid he plans to kill her!” Susan went on to describe the dinner conversation and to give Lord Harleston an accurate account of what she had overheard.

He listened to her with his brows drawn together in a frown of concentration. When she had finished, he asked, “Have you told Lady Mewhinny about this?”

Susan shook her head miserably. “I couldn’t. You see, I have no proof other than my own word. And
that,”
she added wryly, “cannot be worth much. Oh, I hate practising this deception upon her!”

Lord Harleston sat upright upon the bed and leaned over to take her hands in his. “You must not blame yourself for that. It cannot be helped. But you are right that we must not do anything to bring questions down upon ourselves that cannot be answered satisfactorily. It will not help Lady Mewhinny in the long run. Did you say she was fond of this scoundrel?”

Susan frowned slightly. “I cannot say for certain. She seems totally unconcerned. And she does not seem to mind having him or his guest here, in spite of the fact that he is quite hostile to her monkeys.”

Lord Harleston raised his brows expressively. “Lord, yes. I’d forgotten the monkeys. It is just possible,” he suggested gently, “that Lady Mewhinny is getting too old to cope with her affairs.”

Susan shifted uncomfortably. “I ought to agree, I suppose,” she admitted, “but it does not seem that way at all. She is always so brisk and businesslike. Oh, she may be rather peculiar at times, but I get the impression it is because her mind is on so many things at once.”

Lord Harleston smiled tolerantly to himself and dropped the line of conversation. “So what is it you wish me to do?” he asked.

All at once Susan became aware that her hands still rested in his. She stole a quick look at his face. In it she could read his readiness to do her bidding. She realized she had seldom seen him when he was not in a joking humour, but his willingness always to come to her aid touched her deeply. Gently, she removed her hands from his clasp.

“Lord Harleston,” she began, “I had to speak to you right away to tell you that I must not leave tomorrow. I cannot leave Lady Mewhinny alone to deal with Mr. Petworthy. He said quite clearly that he would be glad to witness my departure, that my presence was a hindrance to his plans.”

“What do you mean to do?”

Susan’s thoughts were a mass of confusion. “I do not know,” she admitted. “But surely something will occur to me when I know what his intentions are.”

“Well, then,” said his lordship cheerfully, reclining once more on the bed. “We shall just have to skulk about and spy on the fellow until we know what he is up to.”

Susan’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. Ignoring his impudent posture, she rose to her feet and took a step nearer. “But you cannot mean to stay on, too! You cannot possibly wish to prolong this masquerade!”

“Why not?” his lordship asked, regarding her with a half smile.

“Because...” Susan groped for words. “You cannot! Just think how uncomfortable you’ve been!”

Lord Harleston looked down his long body as it lay atop the billowing covers. His eyes took in the seductive paintings around him, the elaborate ceiling, the curved furniture. “But look how comfortable I am now,” he said. “It seems to me,” he added, looking slowly up at Susan as she stood beside him, “that it is
you
who are most uncomfortable.”

An absurd response drifted into Susan’s mind before she could take in his meaning. Her feet
were
getting chilled. “Nonsense!” she replied, hastily collecting herself and turning her back on him before the temptation could be too great. Her voice sounded sulky.

Lord Harleston rose immediately to his feet. “Please forgive me, Miss Johnstone,” he said in all seriousness. “I should return your bed to you. It was unforgiveable of me to keep it while you stood there shivering.”

Susan
was
shivering, she suddenly realized. But she doubted it was from the cold, for his lordship’s approach had only made it worse. Thanking him, she reached round him for one of the covers and draped it over her shoulders. He helped her to arrange it until it hung like a great cape about her feet.

“Thank you,” she said again timidly and then continued in a pleading tone, “But Lord Harleston, you must not stay on to help Lady Mewhinny! I am aware my own impulsiveness has a tendency to get me into trouble, but I do not wish to embroil you further in my scrapes. I will not have it!”

“Of course you won’t,” he said, wrapping the coverlet more closely about her and speaking as though he were comforting a child. “But you forget, I gave my oath to your father. And,” he added, as she seemed about to protest, “I should be a pretty poor fellow if I were unwilling to come to the assistance of a frail old lady, now. Would I not?”

Susan smiled wistfully up at him. She could not know how dangerously she upset his restraint by doing so.

“But, my lord...” He silenced her with an uplifted hand. She wanted to object, but the words caught in her throat. Tears of gratitude mingled with guilt and frustration were choking her, and she was afraid to release them. She feared what might happen if he comforted her in their present situation.

Lord Harleston quickly made as if to go, promising to devise their excuse by morning. “There is one more thing,” he said, turning as he reached the door. “We shall have to meet rather frequently to report our findings to each other, I suppose?”

“I suppose so,” agreed Susan.

“Just so.” His manner was businesslike now. “Then we must think of a place to meet.” His brow wrinkled as if he were pondering the matter.

Susan watched him shyly. “I could come more often into the stables,” she offered.

He threw her a quick, impish smile. “I rather prefer this location,” he said, “but I see it might not be the most practical spot.”

She bent her head in confusion, a rosy warmth invading her. But as her glance swept the floor, she stopped at the sight of his boots and her mood turned instantly to one of alarm.

“Your boots!” she cried. “Oh, Tom, you left your boots! Do you think Lady Mewhinny could have seen them?”

Lord Harleston glanced quickly down, momentarily distracted from her use of his first name. “Damn,” he said mildly. “That was careless of me. But she could not have seen them or she would have said something, surely?” He looked to her for agreement.

Susan sighed with relief. “Of course. How silly of me. She must have said something if she had noticed. I daresay her eyesight is not what it was for I am certain she looked this way.” Then she added with a dimple, “But they are so big and loutish, it is a miracle she did not see them.”

Lord Harleston tried to appear offended, but the look he gave her only served to make her dimple more. “Very well, my lady,” he said. “I shall not stay here to be insulted further, but shall betake myself to my crude pallet where I shall endeavour to sleep in as un-loutish a fashion as possible. I shall await your pleasure in the morning.”

Despite his teasing tone, Susan was instantly contrite. The thought of his sleeping on a wooden pallet was enough to make her think foolishly of offering him her bed. But fortunately, Lord Harleston closed the door before she could make this imprudent offer. A second later its impropriety struck her.

“Heavens!” she said aloud, one hand flying to her forehead. “What on earth was I about to say?”

A glance down at her clothing reminded her of the strangeness of her situation, and she fled back to her bed and hid herself under the covers. She ought, she told herself, to feel quite worried about Lady Mewhinny and Mr. Petworthy. And she ought to be ashamed that she had not persuaded Lord Harleston to leave. But somehow she felt only a delicious thrill as she wriggled down deeper in the bed.

A sudden prickle made her sit up and search about with her hand for its source.

It was a piece of straw.

Smiling tenderly, she lay back down and drew the straw beneath her nostrils. It had a faint scent, so she could imagine she was in the stables with Tom. As long as she lived, she knew, that smell would remind her of Lord Harleston. Over her head, amidst swirls of gilt and flowers, nymphs and satyrs cavorted on the ceiling. But tonight they did not embarrass her. She was beginning to understand them, she thought rather naughtily.

Lord Harleston’s manner had been almost perfect. He had kept his distance, as a gentleman under those circumstances should, but he had made it quite clear he would not have minded in the least if the invitation to her chamber had been for more.

Chapter Nine

The next morning, Tom duly made his announcement that the carriage was in need of repair and would take a number of days to be fixed. Lady Mewhinny expressed her delight at being allowed to keep Susan a few more days, and Mr. Petworthy was obliged to swallow his irritation.

“We shall count ourselves fortunate to be amongst such pleasant company, shall we not, Sodporth?” he said, smiling at Susan through clenched teeth.

They were at the breakfast table, where, much to Susan’s discomfort, the gentlemen had appeared as early as she and Lady Mewhinny were wont to do. Mr. Sodporth beamed upon her, but did not reply owing to the fullness of his mouth. His friend was not so speechless, however.

“It would seem your household will be obliged to suffer a certain degree of alarm on your behalf,” he said. “I cannot believe they are used to such extraordinary delays in your arrival.” The look he directed at her was full of suspicion.

Alarmed to see that her motives for staying were already open to doubt, Susan was forced to reply with a false degree of composure, “Tom will ’ave sent word to my ’ousekeeper zat we are unavoidably detained, but it does not really matter. Zere is no one to whom my movements can have ze least importance.”

“Indeed!” Mr. Petworthy said, still smiling with his lips only. He looked as if he might have asked her more uncomfortable questions, but Lady Mewhinny cut into this conversation with bright cheeriness.

“I am so happy you are staying, my dear Susan, for now you will be able to accompany me to the opening of Heffel Fair tomorrow.”

Mr. Petworthy watched Susan closely as he observed, “Surely not, Aunt. Why, have you forgotten our guest is in mourning? She will not wish to appear unaffected by her loss.”

Susan did not like the look he gave her. But in spite of being alarmed at the prospect of being left behind at the house without Lady Mewhinny’s protective presence, she could not deny his statement.

“Oh, dear. What a pity, to be sure!” Lady Mewhinny said. “But perhaps your mourning is of long standing, my dear. I do not recall your having mentioned the exact time of your bereavement.”

Susan thought rapidly. “It was a mere year ago last monz’, my lady.”

Lady Mewhinny brightened considerably. “There you see! I am so glad to hear it. It is high time you put off your mourning then, dear. No one will think the worse of you at your age. You will undoubtedly marry again. And, of course, here no one will be the wiser.

Let us go up to your room right away and see what you have that is suitable.”

Susan looked doubtfully around the table as if uncertain whether she ought to be so hasty, but Mr. Petworthy only bowed in chilly acquiescence. So, suppressing her eagerness, she rose from the table and went to join her ladyship.

Lady Mewhinny appeared to find nothing odd in Susan’s carrying with her certain dresses which were not black. She had one gown, the one she had taken to London to visit her father in prison, which the elderly lady declared to be the very thing. It had been Susan’s last extravagance at a time when Captain Johnstone had still been hopeful of restoring his fortune. He had sent her a portion of his winnings at the table with instructions to purchase herself a new gown. She remembered the wording of his letter still: