Major Wyclyff's Campaign (A Lady's Lessons, Book 2) (30 page)

"You heard me say that?" she whispered.

He frowned at her. "Of course I heard it. I heard everything you said."

"But you were in hospital then. You..." Her voice trailed away as she remembered. "I thought you were unconscious."

He shook his head, stunned by how little she realized her importance to him. "I assure you, Lady Sophia, were I buried six feet under, I would still hear everything you ever say to me."

The silence that greeted his words was somewhat unnerving, but only because Sophia was quiet, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. The others were less important, though some part of him registered the smug expressions on both Lady Agatha's face and Lord Kyle's. Still, his eyes were on Sophia, and it was she who lightened his mood with a soft smile.

"My apologies, Major. It appears I severely misjudged some things."

Just as he had misjudged her, he now realized. Stupid from the start, as one of his oldest lieutenants had been fond of saying. Why hadn't he met her and courted her in the usual way, right from the beginning? But there was no help for it now.

A moment later Miss Lydia Smyth, the boy Percy's fiancee, was speaking, and there was no more time to think. "I remember a different on-dit," she said softly. "Something about a girl. His niece, perhaps?"

"Ah, yes," returned Kyle coldly. "Melissa eloped. With a Scotsman."

Anthony looked up, surprised by the sudden anger in Lord Kyle's tone. The man's face had changed, too, closing down to become inscrutable. Clearly there was something more here, he realized, but there was little he could do to explore the issue as the man deftly changed topics. With an almost feminine gesture, Lord Kyle pulled back the carriage curtain and began pointing out at the scenery.

"Look, we are nearly there," he said.

Sophia leaned forward to see and nearly butted heads with Kyle as they both tried to peer outside.

"Oh, my, pardon me," she gasped.

"Not at all, my dear. Not at all," he responded congenially. Then, suddenly, all was as it had been moments before. Gone was the moment of rapport between Anthony and Sophia. In its place was that cheerful camaraderie between her and Kyle, creating a cozy scene that made Anthony grind his teeth in frustration. What on earth had ever possessed him to join this ridiculous trip?

The carriage at last pulled to a stop, and as they all tripped and stumbled their way out of it, Anthony remembered exactly why he had come. One look at the bizarre structure before him and all his military instincts went on alert. He was here, he recalled with grim purpose, to protect Sophia from whatever lived inside it.

"Oh, my," whispered Lady Agatha from his side. "It does look somewhat forbidding, doesn't it?"

Anthony could only nod. Lord Blakesly's manor was set in a beautiful meadow of classic pastoral charm. Unfortunately, the house itself looked like a dungeon drawn from the bowels of the earth by a cruel giant's hand. The stone was dark and solid, the windows shuttered, and the ivy so thick it appeared menacing.

Miss Smyth pronounced the place "delightfully odd" as she snuggled closer to Percy in mock terror. Sophia simply frowned at the dreary structure. Anthony barely restrained a groan, feeling as if he had fallen into a Grimms' fairy tale.

Lord Kyle remained unfailingly cheerful. "Come along," he said. "No doubt they saw us coming up the drive."

Indeed, someone had. A rotund, jolly fellow named Sween appeared at the door and introduced himself, exuding good cheer. He shook hands and bowed with all the joy of a preacher finding a new congregation. "My, my, what a surprise," enthused Mr. Sween. "Come in, come in. Always happy to have visitors."

Percy stepped forward to perform some initial introductions, but he didn't have the chance. Mr. Sween turned to address Lady Agatha with a suddenly sad expression as he reached out and patted her hand.

"Were you a particularly close friend of Lord Blakesly before his illness? He does so enjoy visits from the ladies he used to... um... pass time with."

Lady Agatha frowned, clearly taking a moment to comprehend his words; then her eyes widened in shock. "No! Of course not! I have never met the man."

"Ah," he said with sudden understanding as he turned to Sophia, clearly appreciating the charms exhibited so stunningly by her dress. "Then you must be—"

"You are misinformed," cut in Sophia in her most freezing accents.

Anthony could not help but smile. Though Miss Smyth and Percy seemed quite cordial to the man, doing all that was polite during an initial meeting, Sophia seemed decidedly on edge, perhaps a bit unsettled by Mr. Sween's overwhelming enthusiasm. Whatever the reason, Anthony could only applaud such good sense. He, of course, had disliked the man from the very start. But then, he was beginning to notice that he disliked a good many men who fawned over Sophia.

Mr. Sween turned from one person to another, a slight frown of consternation on his face as he at last focused on Miss Smyth.

"Have you come to visit Lord Blakesly?" His tone was tentative, clearly noting Percy's proprietary hold on his fiancee.

Lydia dimpled up prettily. "I should adore meeting his lordship."

Mr. Sween's frown deepened as his gaze searched each of the three ladies. "I am afraid I do not understand. His lordship, as a whole, does not get visits from, um, gentlemen. If the ladies are not particular friends—"

"I am his friend, Mr. Sween," interrupted Kyle. "And I would like to see him directly."

"Oh." The man blinked a moment as he stared at Lord Kyle. "Oh! Then these are your—"

"My friends," Kyle answered congenially. Then, suddenly, he was smiling, his manner soothing as he began pushing forward toward the front of the house. "They wished to view some of Lord Blakesly's excellent art."

He slipped past the fat man with the rest of the party trailing behind. Mr. Sween turned an alarming shade of purple before rushing forward to block their progress. "It is not here anymore, unfortunately," he said. "We were forced to remove it from Lord Blakesly's environment. The, uh, fits. You understand." Then he dropped his voice to a low whisper. "I am afraid Lord Blakesly is not at all well today. His mood is somewhat unpredictable."

Kyle paused just before the threshold. "But, just a moment ago you said he would be happy to see the ladies."

Mr. Sween shifted awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. "Ah, well, you see, female companionship is something the younger Lord Blakesly allows his father. It makes him, er, it keeps him—"

"More manageable?"

Mr. Sween looked distinctly uncomfortable. "It eases his distraught mind. Gentlemen, on the other hand are..." His voice trailed away on an ominous note. "Please, perhaps you might come back another time?"

Kyle appeared to consider, but Anthony snapped. He wanted this excursion over. Also, with one look at Sophia's face, he knew she would not be satisfied until she understood exactly what was going on in this dark old manor. It seemed clear, for her safety, his best option was to force the investigation now, when he was here to protect her.

Stepping forward, he roughly pulled Mr. Sween to the side. "Are you suggesting, sir, that you and your staff are unable to protect us from Lord Blakesly's queer starts? Oh, dear, what will the young Lord Blakesly think? Has he hired men of so little competence?" He invested just enough derision in his voice for Mr. Sween to turn from a mottled red to a pale white.

"Oh, no!" gasped Mr. Sween. "I am quite capable of handling one old man, sir."

Anthony smiled. "Excellent. Then do bring us some tea and have his lordship brought to us directly." He paused, then added a sneer for effect. "After showing us to the front parlor, of course."

There was nothing left for Sween to do but give them a sickly smile and do exactly as he was bid. "Yes, of course," he said, bowing slightly. "How remiss of me. Please, do come in." But his movements were slow and reluctant as he opened the front door.

They followed in loose order, with Lord Kyle leading the way, the engaged couple next, then Lady Agatha and Lady Sophia. Anthony remained at the back, all his senses alert. It was an odd procession, and he was not used to this sort of anticipation when walking with ladies—an adrenaline rush very similar to that of battle. But then again, he was getting used to new experiences when accompanying Sophia.

The front foyer was completely in keeping with the exterior decor. Although some measures had been taken for comfort, on the whole it was a bare and dark chamber. Even the wood flooring was dull and cheerless, to say nothing of the cold grate and faded furnishings.

"As you can see, Lord Blakesly does not much worry about appearances," said Mr. Sween as he ushered them into a side parlor.

"The older Blakesly? Or his son?" asked Lord Kyle.

The butler did not answer as he busied himself with the ladies' wraps and hats. Meanwhile, Reginald tapped his foot impatiently. "Where is Lord Blakesly?"

"Hmmm?" asked Mr. Sween, obviously stalling for time. "Oh, ah, as to that, I am afraid he is napping right now. He is not at all well, you understand. But I am sure he will be glad of your visit. Yes, in fact, I am persuaded he will be in alt over it." The man bowed deeply to Lord Kyle. "You have done a good deed today. Thank you so much for bringing such cheer, but I fear it will storm tonight and his lordship will be most upset if I detain you past the prudent time."

Anthony stepped forward, his determination growing by the second. Clearly this man did not wish them around, and that made Anthony all the more curious as to what went on in this dark horror of a house. Still, he forced himself to smile at the obnoxious servant. "We have come all this way, Mr. Sween. Lord Kyle is a good friend of Lord Blakesly. I believe we will look about, wander around, so to speak, and hope that the man wakes before we leave."

"But—"

"Please be so good as to serve the ladies some tea."

"But—"

"Now." Anthony did not raise his voice. He knew he did not need to. The man was clearly a hired lackey, not used to defying orders. And indeed, after another perfunctory bow, Sween scurried away.

"Well," said Lady Agatha after the man had disappeared, "this is most unsettling."

Lord Kyle nodded. "I quite agree. Unfortunately, I must ask that we remain and, um, look about. If we scatter, then perhaps one of us could discover Lord Blakesly."

Anthony stepped forward. "Surely you would not wish the ladies to simply wander around? They would be much happier here drinking tea." He did not add that the women would no doubt be much safer as well. Whatever was happening in this household was likely not something he thought Sophia ought to see.

Before Lord Kyle could respond, Miss Smyth looked up. "Happier here? What nonsense! Why, we have come with the express purpose of assisting Lord Kyle with his mission."

Sophia had been looking through a window at the back garden, and she spun around, her face pale. "You cannot be serious!"

"To locate Lord Blakesly, my dear," said Lord Kyle smoothly. "That is all."

"Oh!" whispered Sophia, her complexion slowly settling into a rosy blush. "Of course. How silly of me."

Anthony narrowed his eyes. There was something going on in the room that he did not understand. Sophia had been nervous and edgy ever since she had descended the stairs in that dress. He had ascribed it to the unusual circumstance of having both himself and Lord Kyle together, but now he suspected something else was at work. Something with Sophia at the center. Something other than this mysterious business with Lord Blakesly.

Before he could demand an answer, Sween returned with tea.

"Excellent," exclaimed Lord Kyle, though the fare seemed particularly dismal. "We shall just wait now for Lord Blakesly to wake."

"As you wish," said Mr. Sween, and he bowed out of the room.

Sophia reached for the tea service, apparently intent on serving, but Lord Kyle stopped her. "Good God, Sophia, pray let us not drink that. Come, it is time for us to search for Lord Blakesly. If any of you find him, bring him to this room directly." Then he turned to the engaged couple. "Percy, you and Miss Smyth take the main floor. Lady Agatha and I shall take the top. Sophia, please join the major, if you would, on the middle floor."

"But—" Sophia's objection went unheeded as the others suddenly leapt to their feet, obviously eager to set about their tasks. All too soon the room emptied, leaving her staring wide-eyed at Anthony.

He waited, his arms folded, for her to speak. She was not accomplished at subterfuge and would soon crack under his steady regard.

Or so he thought. Instead, he saw her rally her mind, put on a dazzling smile, and raise her arm to him. "I believe it is time for us to stroll a-about."

It was a marvelous performance. He might have thought his earlier judgment was in error, except for the fact that she stuttered on her last word. Clearly, something was in the wind.

"Sophia, what are you doing? What is Lord Kyle's game?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea, except for what you already know. He said he heard certain rumors and is intent on speaking directly with Lord Blakesly."

She placed her hand on his arm, and he felt it tremble slightly. He covered it with his own, a fierce wave of protective instincts washing over him.