The Importance of Being Wicked (Millworth Manor) (4 page)

She had him there. He and Gray had both made inquiries and had found nothing but glowing recommendations as to the work of Garret and Tempest. It was a small firm but well respected.

He trailed after her, not unlike a dog on a leash, and managed to keep his mouth shut for a good minute or two. Admittedly, it was not in his nature to silently follow after a woman. “You do understand, I wish Fairborough Hall to be returned to its original state?”

“You mentioned that in your correspondence.”

“And rebuilding must proceed as quickly as possible?”

“You mentioned that as well.”

“Time is of the essence,” he said firmly. “Every year in late June, Fairborough plays host to a Midsummer Ball. It’s rather difficult to have a ball without a ballroom.”

“One would think.”

“It’s to be exceptionally important this year as it will celebrate the Queen’s Jubilee.” He lowered his voice in a conf i-dential manner. “In addition, I have it on very good authority that Queen Victoria herself might wish to attend.”

“She would not find this at all amusing,” Lady Garret murmured.

“So you can see why haste is of the utmost importance. The other firms . . .” The moment the words left his mouth he realized his mistake.

Lady Garret stopped and turned toward him. “The other firms?”

There was nothing to be done for it then but to confess. “Yes, well, we did inquire as to the availability of other firms.”

“Oh?”

He chose his words with care although, at this point, it would make no difference. “Most were not able to even begin work until late in the summer.”

“I see.”

“Those that could were unwilling to take on a project of this nature, given the urgency we require.” So much for having the upper hand. It was never wise in business to let whomever one negotiated with know they were one’s only valid option. Obviously, his sense of discretion evaporated in the face of a sensible woman in sturdy shoes. “They could not guarantee the project would be completed—”

“Nor can I, Lord Stillwell,” she said firmly. “This is an enormous undertaking and the time in which you wish to have it accomplished is insufficient.” She snapped her notebook shut and stepped closer to him. He held out the satchel obediently. Good Lord, she had him trained! “We would certainly bring all our resources to bear, and do everything humanly possible, but I cannot—I will not—guarantee completion by late June.” She slipped the notebook and her pencil into the bag, took it and the tube from him and nodded. “Good day, my lord.” She started toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to London, of course,” she said over her shoulder. “It seems pointless to linger as we cannot accomplish what you require.”

“Wait.” The woman had him as surely as if she had reached between his legs and grabbed him firmly by his privates.

She paused in mid-step. He really didn’t have a choice and she knew it. “I shall double whatever you intend to charge for your services.”

“Not including the actual cost of construction, of course.”

He winced. “Of course.”

“Even without a guarantee?”

He could practically feel her hand tighten and he had the most ridiculous desire to shift his weight from foot to foot. He couldn’t see her face, but he was certain there was an all-too-smug smile curving her lips. He heaved a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes. Some progress is better than nothing, I suppose.”

She turned back to him, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Are you quite certain, my lord?”

“At the moment, I’m not quite certain of my own name.” He stepped closer and once again relieved her of her bag and tube. “You’re very good at this sort of thing, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” She opened the satchel and retrieved her pencil and notebook. “I really can’t say. I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

“You may rest assured, Lady Garret, you’re very good at it.” His voice was a bit sharper than he had intended, but there was nothing he liked less than losing. And while he wasn’t sure what game they had just played there was no doubt in his mind he had lost it. “I’ve agreed to pay you twice your usual commission without any guarantee as to completion, you have me carrying your things and . . .”

“And?”

“And . . . and I will not say another word unless you require it of me.”

“Excellent, then let us return to the task at hand.” She cast him the first genuine smile of the day. Her eyes were definitely brown with little specks of gold. Really quite lovely. She started off again, then looked back at him. “Oh, and I do thank you for the compliment.”

He shrugged. “As I said, you’re very good at this.”

“That too, but a few minutes ago you referred to either me or my feet as lovely.”

“Oh.” Damnation, he had forgotten about that. “Yes, of course.”

“Goodness, my lord.” She shook her head. “A compliment does tend to lose its effectiveness if it’s just something one says.”

“I shall keep that in mind.”

“My, you are a rogue, aren’t you?” she added under her breath.

Win stifled a frustrated sigh and resigned himself to following behind her and keeping his mouth shut. She had already made up her mind about him based on nothing more than gossip, a reputation he had very nearly grown out of and an insincere compliment. Even if, in that one moment when she’d been more amused than efficient, she had been far lovelier than he had first thought and he suspected her feet were lovely as well. Not that he planned to find out for himself. Not that he cared. Not about her smile or the color of her eyes and certainly not about her feet. Still, it did appear that this woman was about to become part of his life for the foreseeable future. He was putting his heritage in the hands of her Mr. Tempest after all.

For the next hour or so, he followed her like a well-trained puppy, answering her questions without additional comment. It was a pity, really; he was quite good at witty conversation. He considered it something of an art. Yet another of his charms that would be wasted on Lady Garret.

He did have to admit, she was much more intelligent than he would have expected. Not that he didn’t generally appreciate intelligence in a woman. Why, there was nothing he enjoyed more than verbal dueling with a clever woman. But that was different. Lady Garret’s questions were to the point and displayed knowledge of architecture and construction he would have found impressive even in a man. The woman might well know what she was doing, which made her all the more annoying and surprisingly a matter of some curiosity. There was obviously more to Lady Garret than first appeared.

At last he escorted her back to the carriage for the return ride to the train station. He handed her the satchel and tube—she never did reveal what was in the blasted thing. He assumed it contained the drawings and plans he had originally sent to her, but for all he knew she had simply lugged it along to appear more efficient. Not that she needed help in that respect.

“I have all I need for the moment, Lord Stillwell,” she said, accompanied again by her polite smile. “Tomorrow, there will be men here to take accurate measurements.”

“I sent you measurements and I assure you they are quite accurate.”

She raised a brow.

He forced a weak smile. “But of course you will want your own. What is it they say? Measure twice, cut once?”

“Quite right.” She nodded. “Once those are in hand, I daresay I will have detailed plans ready for your approval by next week.”

“You mean Mr. Tempest will have the plans ready?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

He started to correct her, then thought better of it. “Yes, of course.”

She paused before climbing into the carriage and glanced past him for a final look at the manor. “You were right, my lord.”

“Was I?” He brightened. It would be nice to be right about something in this woman’s eyes. “About what?”

“You were extremely fortunate, all things considered.” Her voice softened. “It’s a grand house and it will be my—
our
—honor to bring it back to its former glory.”

“Thank you, Lady Garret,” he said simply, surprised at the pleasure her comment brought him. “We have a house in the city, of course, but Fairborough Hall is—well, it’s been my family’s true home for generations. I hope it will be home for those generations yet to come.”

“We shall make certain of it.” Her brisk manner had returned. She climbed into the carriage and he closed the door after her. “Oh.” She leaned slightly out the window. “There was one other thing you were right about.”

“Twice in one day?” he said wryly. “Whoever would have imagined?”

“Not I.” For the second time today, a genuine smile curved her lips. Amusement glittered in her eyes and the most charming dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth. “But, practical though they may be, my shoes are indeed the most horrendous ever created.” She leaned back in the carriage seat and signaled to the driver. “Good day, my lord.”

“Good day, Lady Garret.”

The carriage rolled off and Win stared after it thoughtfully. He did like to know who he was dealing with. After all, this woman—and her elusive Mr. Tempest—had the future of Fairborough Hall in their hands. He was not about to put the fate of his family’s home in the keeping of a woman about whom he had more questions than answers.

While he considered himself an excellent judge of character, he had long ago faced the fact that that particular skill was only accurate in regard to men. He had no idea how to correctly assess the character of women, a lesson painfully learned through the course of three failed engagements. But even he could see there was definitely much more to the prim, efficient Lady Garret than one might at first suspect. Some of her comments simply did not ring true. This was a woman who was hiding more than she revealed.

Which only raised the question of what did she have to hide?

And what would it take to find out?

“I want to know everything there is to know about Lady Garret.” Win paced the floor of the library at Millworth Manor.

“I thought you wished to know everything there is to know about Garret and Tempest?” Gray’s mild tone did nothing to disguise the pointed nature of his question.

“That’s what I said,” Win snapped, then caught himself. He was not normally a surly sort. Even in the days immediately following the fire, when even the best natured of men might well be surly, he had managed to regain his usual good humor. But a blazing inferno was a flickering match when compared to that woman. He could lay the blame for his current mood squarely at the sturdily shod feet of Lady Garret.

“What you said was that you wish to know everything about Lady Garret, not Garret and Tempest.”

“You must have misheard me.” Win waved off the comment.

“My hearing is excellent.”

“Then I misspoke. You can’t blame me. The woman lingers in one’s mind. Lurking. Ready to pounce at the first opportunity.”

“Like an unrepentant melody?”

“More like the taste of a new dish that one isn’t certain one likes because it’s so obviously good for the digestion.”

Gray laughed.

Win paused in mid-step and glared at him. “This is not amusing. We are trusting this woman, and her eccentric Mr. Tempest, with the future of Fairborough Hall. If we muck it up, generations yet to come will look back at this very moment. They will say, ‘There, that’s when it happened.’” He shook a pointed finger at his cousin. “‘That’s when that idiot viscount handed the rebuilding of Fairborough Hall off to that overbearing female.’ I shall be known throughout all eternity as the man who allowed a woman to destroy his family’s heritage.”

Gray choked back yet another laugh. “You’re being absurd.”

“Am I?” Win said darkly. “We shall see. One never does give due credence to a prophet in his own time, you know.”

“You’re blowing this out of all proportion. I thought you would get over it by now. If anything you’re more overwrought today than after you met with her yesterday.”

“I’ve had time to think. Mark my words, Gray, that woman is—well, I don’t know what she is exactly beyond annoying and superior and condescending and far too intelligent—for a woman, that is.” Win narrowed his eyes. “Do you know she has surveyors and men taking measurements at the hall even as we speak?”

Gray gasped. “Oh no, not that. Do you mean to tell me the vile woman is . . .” He paused for dramatic emphasis. “Efficient? Competent? Even, dare I say it, organized?”

Win glared at the other man. For a moment he wished they were boys again and he could take his cousin outside and thrash him thoroughly. Or rather attempt to thrash him, as they had always been evenly matched.

“You’re just irritated because she got the upper hand with you yesterday.”

“I allowed her to have the upper hand.” Win sniffed. “It was part of my plan.”

Gray grinned. “You don’t have a plan.”

“No, but if I did this would be part of it.” He resumed pacing, but it didn’t quite help his concentration as it usually did. No doubt because the library at Millworth Manor was not where he usually paced.

His family had arranged to lease the manor through the summer as it was no more than a half hour ride from Fairborough Hall. The owners, Lord and Lady Bristow, had decided to travel the Continent together in an effort to reacquaint themselves with one another after a lengthy separation. A separation in which most of the world believed Lord Bristow to be dead and, apparently, Lady Bristow simply wished he was.

“I am not used to dealing with women in matters of a business nature. Women should not be involved in business.”

“I thought she explained that to you.”

“She did, but . . .” Win shook his head. “Something about her explanation struck me as being . . . not a lie exactly, more like a half-truth. The woman is definitely hiding something.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“It cannot be said often enough.”

“And you know this because you are so very good at recognizing when a woman is hiding something?”

“Well, I should be, shouldn’t I?”

“One would think,” Gray said under his breath in a not too subtle allusion to Win’s three engagements.

Gray had been out of the country for years and had not witnessed firsthand his cousin’s previous failures to wed. Although they corresponded regularly, Win had never written in detail about his ill-fated betrothals. He had made no mention of the third at all. Since Gray’s return to England a few months ago, the cousins had spent long hours, with the appropriate libation in hand, discussing the various incidents, as well as all else that had happened in their respective lives. Win was able now to see the humor inherent in each engagement: the lady who had decided she would much rather marry a man with better prospects, the female who had considered him entirely too lighthearted to be a suitable husband and the very sweet young woman who was unfortunately in love with someone else.

“I did think you liked intelligent women.”

“I do, under most circumstances.” Win paused. He much preferred women who were clever and witty. Who could match him barb for barb. Although he had long considered the idea that that might have been where he had made his mistakes in the past. A less intelligent woman was far more likely to agree with him, to see things his way. Still, in his experience, women who weren’t clever weren’t especially interesting either. Did he really wish to spend the rest of his life bored out of his mind? “What I dislike is a woman who makes me feel stupid. Who looks at me in a pitiful manner as if I were a child who can barely understand two words.”

“I see.” Gray was obviously once again holding back laughter. At least one of them was amused by all this. “Then you found her annoying because she is more intelligent than you and took no pains to hide it?”

“She is most certainly not
more
intelligent. Possibly
as
intelligent but definitely not
more
. It’s ridiculous to even think such a thing. She is a woman after all.” As much as Win liked women in general the very idea of a woman being more intelligent than a man was absurd.

“I wouldn’t let Aunt Margaret hear you say that.” Gray shuddered.

“Because I am indeed an intelligent man, I would never allow her to do so,” Win said in a lofty manner, then thought for a moment. “It was the surprise, I think. Lady Garret caught me unawares. I simply wasn’t prepared for a woman—for her. I shall be better prepared for our next meeting.”

“Then you wish to continue with Garret and Tempest?” Gray studied him closely. “In spite of the indomitable Lady Garret?”

Win blew a resigned breath and sank into the chair that matched Gray’s. “I don’t see any other option.”

“We could hire someone else, you know.”

“No one else can take this on in as timely a manner.” Win shook his head. “I don’t want Fairborough Hall moldering in disrepair for the next six months. I want rebuilding to begin as soon as possible.” He aimed an accusing look at his cousin. “Pity you won’t be here to keep an eye on the work with me.”

“I am sorry, Win, but I do have to return to America. There are matters I need to settle before I can again make England my home.”

Gray had left some eleven years ago to make his fortune, and make it he had. His varied investments in shipping and railroads and imports had made him almost obscenely wealthy. Win had followed his lead and had vastly increased the Elliott family fortunes as well.

“I will make every effort to conclude my business as quickly as possible. I plan to be gone no longer than a month and less if all goes well.”

“Hopefully, we should be nearing completion by your return and you will have missed it all.”

“With any luck at all.” Gray grinned. “But Lady Garret did say she could not guarantee completion by late June and I intend to be back by then.”

“Their references were excellent,” Win said under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Gray or himself.

“Then it seems to me dealing with Lady Garret is a small enough price to pay,” Gray said slowly.

“Yes, I suppose.”

Gray leaned forward and met his cousin’s gaze firmly. “What is it about this woman, Win? You’ve always been very good at handling women. In spite of any number of misdeeds I can name, there wasn’t a single governess who came through this house that didn’t vow you were the most delightful charge she had ever had. Growing up, you managed to avoid consequences of questionable behavior by dint of little more than your charming nature and your irresistibly wicked smile. It drove me quite mad, I can tell you.”

“My apologies,” Win said wryly.

“Why, I can recall seeing you wrap even the most formidable mothers of fresh-faced virgins around your little finger. And that despite an already somewhat wicked reputation.”

“Well . . .” Win smiled modestly. What could he say? His cousin was right.

“The fine art of managing women has been a skill, no, a talent, even a natural gift of yours since you were a boy. Women of any age have always been putty in your hands. As long as you don’t ask them to marry you, that is.” Laughter gleamed in Gray’s eyes.

Win snorted back a laugh. “That does seem to be my undoing.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t know why I found Lady Garret so annoying. I did make every attempt to be most charming and even, perhaps, a bit flirtatious. She would have none of it.”

“No doubt that is precisely why you found her annoying.” Lady Lydingham, Camille, swept into the library and the cousins rose to their feet at once.

Camille’s parents owned Millworth Manor, and while they had invited the Elliott family to stay as their guests in their absence, Win’s father had insisted they lease the manor instead. He was well aware of the costs of maintaining a country house. Camille and Gray had been engaged since Christmas. Win was fairly confident this was one wedding that would indeed take place, although why they were waiting until autumn to wed made no sense to him. The more time one gave a woman to ponder anything—especially marriage—the more time she had to reconsider. Still, in hindsight, in his experience, that had ultimately been for the best.

“Are you helping Winfield reach a rational, intelligent conclusion?” Camille moved to Gray’s side and Win suspected would have kissed him in a most improper manner had Win not been present. From the look in Gray’s eyes, he thought the same. “Or has his absurd and unreasonable dislike of Lady Garret vanquished all possibility of rational, intelligent behavior?”

“You know me so well, Camille.” Win flashed her a smile.

“You are a dashing devil, one does have to give you that,” Camille said in a reluctant manner although, until recently, Camille had barely spoken to him at all. “I can’t imagine any woman not falling prey to your dubious charms.”

“And what of me?” Gray cast her an offended look. “Am I not a dashing devil with dubious charms?”

“You always have been, Grayson,” she said in an overly prim manner as if now, having decided to marry him, she should observe certain rules of society. But there was a subtle gleam in her eye when she looked at Gray that hinted that her thoughts were anything but proper.

“I do wish you would stop looking at him like that.” Win glared at his cousin’s intended.

“Like what?” Innocence rang in Camille’s voice belying the wicked look in her eyes.

“Like he was a cake and you had a passion for sweets!” Win huffed.

“I like it.” Gray cast his fiancée a wicked smile of his own.

“Oh, but I do have a passion for sweets,” Camille said with a pleasant smile.

Win stifled a groan. Not that he wasn’t happy for his cousin; he was delighted that Gray and Camille had found one another again after years apart. And delighted as well that Gray was so annoyingly happy. Admittedly he might be a touch envious that Gray had found what Win had not, but now was not the time to dwell on what he didn’t have.

“She’s a Hadley-Attwater, you know,” Camille said abruptly.

Gray frowned in confusion. “Who?”

“Lady Garret, of course. She’s the youngest of the Hadley-Attwater brood.” She glanced at Win. “Weren’t you friends with one of the sons?”

“Sebastian.” He nodded. “Sir Sebastian now. We had some grand times together before he went off to explore the world. I haven’t seen him in years.” Perhaps it was time to renew that acquaintance. “What else do you know about his sister?”

“Nothing really.” Camille shrugged. “I don’t know her at all save to nod a greeting to in passing. Beryl would know more.”

“And isn’t that surprising?” Gray murmured.

Win bit back a grin. Beryl was Camille’s twin and she was not at all fond of Gray. If there was one thing Win didn’t envy his cousin about it was his future sister-in-law. Not that Win and Beryl hadn’t always gotten on well together. Indeed, Beryl might well have been his first fiancée had things worked out in a different manner. But though he did enjoy sparring with the lady even now, they never would have suited. That was a marriage that would have been disastrous for them both. One would surely have killed the other.

“Beryl makes it a point to know whatever there is to know. It can be most beneficial. And what she doesn’t know, she knows how to find out.” She studied Win curiously. “Do you really want to know everything there is to know about Lady Garret?”

“About Garret and Tempest,” Gray said.

Camille raised a disbelieving brow.

“Indeed I do. About both the firm and the lady.”

“If that is the case . . .” Camille smiled as if she and Win were now somehow coconspirators. “Beryl has hired an excellent investigator in the past. I should be happy to give you his name.”

Gray’s gaze shifted between his fiancée and his cousin. “I must confess, there is something about the two of you in agreement that is not in the natural order of things.”