After The Storm (22 page)

The dowager immediately introduced them. “William
McMillan, my stepson, Jason, the Earl of Danfield.”

“Ah, so you are Mac. Jenny has spoken of you,” the
earl said, going forward as Mac rose and extended his hand. “I am
told I have you to thank for my wife’s rescue.” He scanned the
large, rugged man and tried to get a reading.

“We were all searching for her, I happened to hear
her screams,” Mac answered quietly.

Their eyes met, and the earl found himself puzzled.
He could usually tell if a man was the sort he would like. This
man, however, seemed a mystery. He could not say why and set it
down to perhaps some jealousy. The big man before him shared a
history with his Jenny, and now the damned fellow had been on hand
to rescue her, when it should have been him. The next thought was,
hell and fire,
she had needed rescuing
. What the devil was
going on? Some bizarre accident?

Jenny entered the room at this point, washed,
refreshed, and changed into a pretty gown of sky blue velvet. He
gazed at her and found the sight of her took his breath, literally,
away. He then saw her hand, bandaged, and it all came flooding
through his mind. Someone had set out to hurt his wife!

He went forward, gently took up her hands, and saw
that the other, while not bandaged, was bruised and the skin
reddened. “Jenny, my Jenny, what is this? What happened?”

“Simply put, I went into the old shed to get a pair
of shears to cut some of the roses for my room … the door
slammed shut and somehow got locked. I am not certain how long I
was there when I heard someone outside the shed, and the next thing
I knew, it had caught on fire. Those are the only facts I can swear
to,” she said stoically. She smiled at William McMillan. “Mac,
here, rescued me …”

He touched her face, and her eyes scanned his face as
though looking for a sign of something. He dropped a kiss on her
nose, almost afraid to touch any part of her that might be in pain
from her experience.

“Well, now that you are safe, Jen, I think I’ll go
into town and procure a room for a few nights.” Mac stood and
inclined his head as though in farewell to Jenny.

“No, you shall not!” declared the lady. “To even
think we would allow you to go to an inn. You shall stay here for
as long as you may.” Jenny turned to her husband. “Is that not so,
Jason.”

“Absolutely so,” said the earl, regarding both the
Mac and Jenny. “If you will excuse me, my Jenny, I’ll just send a
notice to the stables to find a suitable housing for his horse and
let them know it will need feed and water for the night.”

“I’ll go and arrange for a room for you,” the dowager
stuck in and smiled flirtatiously at him. She turned to Jenny.
“Unless of course, you would rather?” she added one ounce too
sweetly.

“Thank you, Diane, that would be very kind,” Jenny
answered and watched the woman leave the room at Jason’s heels.
Could the dowager have done such a thing? She didn’t think it was
her style, but then—it wasn’t in the style of anyone that resided
at Danfield.

Mac nudged her as they sat together on the sofa. “She
is a fancy piece, that one!”

“Mac!” Jenny exclaimed a bit shocked.

He laughed. “Always had an attraction for older
women, Jen. You know that. They know how to play the game.”

‘You are quite disgusting, you odious thing,” Jenny
said with a rueful smile and a twinkle.

“Indeed, I am,” agreed her friend. “But, Jen, I have
to tell you, only you could emerge from such an experience looking
as glorious and unaffected as you do.”

“Absurd man,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t
imagine what you must have thought arriving here to find me
missing … and then the fire, and me—I must have been quite a
sorry sight.”

“What I thought was that the earl was the luckiest
man on earth, and I had to wonder how it was you were missing so
soon after arriving here? That is not like you. As to how you
looked emerging from that blazing shed? Jenny, you have never
understood just how beautiful you are.” He frowned. “But what I
need to do now is find the culprit behind this, shall I call it a
prank gone bad—and run him through!”

“
Him
? You say him, but it could have been a
her,” Jenny suggested.

Mac shrugged. “Perhaps. As far as I am concerned
everyone is suspect.” The door opened at this juncture, and Brad
stepped in. He was somewhat disheveled from his ride but seemed
unconcerned with his appearance. He threw off his riding coat, top
hat, and gloves and left them to fall on a nearby chair as he
strode fast and hard to Jenny.

He bent there and took up her injured and bandaged
hand to exclaim, “Then it is true. You are hurt. What is all this
about a fire and a shed? What the devil is going on?”

* * *

As it turned out, dinner was a small affair, as Miss
Helen remained above-stairs, complaining of a headache. The Wendall
boys as was their habit had eaten dinner earlier and were already
in their chamber playing at ducks and drakes, and Howard was off
having dinner in town with friends.

That left the earl, the dowager, Brad, and Mac to a
quiet drink before dinner was served. Jenny watched them all as
casually as she could, wondering once more and probably for the
hundredth time who would have locked her in and whether or not it
had been an accident that the shed had caught fire. Perhaps she
hadn’t heard footsteps, perhaps? No, she knew what she heard, and
how would the shed catch fire on its own?

All at once the earl was at her side, and she felt a
shiver of anticipation as he touched her arm. That shiver became a
full blown rush of sensation as she turned to his blue eyes. He had
such a look in them that she was momentarily persuaded he might
care for her.

He said lightly but loud enough for all to hear, “I
have had two of the leaves removed to make for a cozier table, and
tonight, my Jenny, I would like very much if you would do me the
honor of sitting at my side, instead of at the far end of the
table?”

“Oh,” she said, smiling warmly up at him. “I should
like that, very much. Perhaps Diane would like to sit at the other
end?” She turned to the dowager, looking regal in her dark blue
gown, and saw that this was exactly what she wanted.

“If you like.” The dowager inclined her head and took
her seat. She smiled at Mac and said, “Here, William, do sit beside
me.”

He did what he was asked, and Brad took up the seat
at Jenny’s left, across from him. Jenny could see that Brad was in
great awe of Mac and the fact Mac had fought beside Wellington at
Waterloo.

“You cannot imagine, sir, how very much I had wanted
to enter your very regiment. But m’mother held the purse strings at
the time and would hear none of it. She was set on my finishing up
at Cambridge. Now, ’tis too late. I mean with Boney beaten, for
there is no one else who would dare go up against Wellington.” His
voice trailed off as a dejected expression turned down the corners
of his mouth.

William McMillan smiled indulgently and said,
“Waterloo cost me too many friends, and I can’t regard it as the
adventure you seem to think it was.” He paused and added, “Be
thankful you were not there, lad. I have often wondered whether it
was worth it all. So very many of our best men were lost. Brunswick
and Bournemouth.” He sighed heavily. “And countless others—
for
what
? To put an end to the Bourbons on the throne! Egad, Brad,
think on that a bit.”

Brad’s eyebrows shot up, and his voice held an
incredulous note. “
Surely
, you cannot mean that?”

“Not mean it? Blister it, lad. Haven’t you been
attending to what I have said? No, no, of course you have not.
Waterloo was a bloodbath. Picture it—suddenly all of us were facing
the French, and they were as scared and yet as determined as
we … and then all the world turned red.”

“Mac, please, do stop …” cried Jenny, putting a
hand to her eyes.

He turned shamefaced to her. “Oh, what is wrong with
me—do forgive me, Jenny.”

The earl regarded Mac thoughtfully for a long moment,
and Jenny wondered at it. Her husband did not seem to like Mac, and
that surprised her. She had always thought of Mac as someone other
men truly liked.

“If we stick to the politics of this discussion,
William here does have a point,” her husband said. “Wellington,
now,
though deservedly
, sits back and collects his pension.
The Bourbons once again display their stupidity to the world, just
as their ostentatious predecessor did. War is inevitable in the
end, if not with France then with some other country. Very often,
it does seems pointless.”

Bradley, clearly shocked, stood up from the table,
nearly overturning his untouched soup. “This talk is unpardonable!
Wellington deserves every penny. He fought and won against Boney,
and we of Albion accomplished what we set out to do.”

“Gentlemen, I think—” Jenny eyed Brad, who sat back
down and gave her his attention. “—that while all of this is worthy
a discussion, it is not comfortable conversation for the dinner
table. I know I am hungry … and before the soup gets colder, I
suggest we … hmmm, have at it.”

Brad grinned and said with feeling, “You are a right
’un, Jenny, that you are. Soup it is!”

Quite a few minutes were passed before anyone spoke
while they applied themselves to their dinner. Then Brad said as he
pushed his plate away, “I am going to run out on all of you early,
as I am engaged to friends after dinner.” He turned to William and
asked, “Would you like to join me, Mac?”

Jenny smiled to herself to hear him so easily take to
the nickname she had given her friend.

“Perhaps, yes, I think so,” Mac answered slowly.

The dowager had been quiet during dinner, but she
spoke up now, and said, “Oh, darling, that is too bad of you,
taking our new guest off to yourself.”

Brad laughed and kissed her mother, as he had already
risen. “Ah, but you shall have at him tomorrow.”

Jenny laughed as Mac turned to her and said softly,
“Do you mind, Jen?”

“Of course not. You may be excused tonight with
Bradley, sir, but tomorrow,” Jenny said, “be prepared to give me
some of your time.” She looked at her brother-in-law and added,
“And I expect
you
to show me the priest’s hole.”

“Haven’t you had enough excitement to last you at
least a week?” Brad returned easily and laughed. He shook his head
and turned to look at Jason while he still directed his remark to
her. “I’ll take you to it if you wear some old gown you won’t mind
throwing away, for it will get dirty and perhaps torn beyond
repair.”

Jenny saw the wary look he directed at his older
brother before Brad asked, “Do you mind, Jason?”

“
Yes, in fact
, I do mind,” the earl returned
quietly and without heat.

“Well, then, that settles it, love.” Brad turned back
to face her. “Won’t buck him in this. He is, after all, your
husband.”

Jenny found herself eyeing her husband flirtatiously
as she said, “Oh, but what can I do to change your mind?” She saw
the sudden light in his eyes. She had been brazenly suggestive;
where she had gotten the strength to do it, she didn’t quite
know.

The earl’s eyes scanned her face, and she felt his
excitement pass through him and to her. She had to control a shiver
that spun through her. He pushed his chair closer to hers and took
hold of her hand, heedless of his audience, and then murmured
directly to her, “You want me to change my mind, do you?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” she whispered as though they were
alone, as though no one else were in the room.

“What are you willing to do to get me to change my
mind?” A tease lined his voice, but the glint in his eyes told her
he wasn’t jesting but in earnest.

“Ah, I shall leave you to wonder about that, my
lord … when we are in private,” she answered, shocked at her
own audaciousness.

He laughed and touched her nose. “Naughty little
tease. Very well then, we shall take up the subject when we are
alone.”

He stood up then and offered her his hand, and she
could see the pleasure on his face when she gave him her fingers.
He nodded towards the others, saying, “I think I will take my bride
on a private tour.” He returned his attention to her and said
softly, “You will get your way,
brat
, but Brad will not show
you the priest’s hole.
I shall
.”

They made their way across the hall toward the
picture gallery, and there he took down William Danfield’s portrait
to uncover a large iron ring in the wall.

Jenny gasped with excitement when he pulled on the
ring and the wall shifted. The sound of the wood grating against
stone thrilled her with anticipation.

She peered inside the dark and narrow corridor while
Jason took up a nearby lantern and lit it. He then held her elbow
as they walked slowly inside. The narrow corridor led to a short
set of wooden steps that in turn led to a storage room. Another
door, apparently stuck in place, which the earl had to heave with
some strength, gave way to yet another smaller corridor.

Jenny held his jacket as she followed him, thrilled
beyond measure to be exploring such a historical find. However,
this led to yet another and quite barren room. No windows, no
furniture, no secret documents, and not one treasure to
uncover.

Jenny’s disappointment must have displayed itself on
her face, for she saw the earl look at her before he burst out
laughing. “My dearest love, my sweet Jenny, whatever did you expect
to find? It is after all, called a priest’s hole, not a pirate’s
cave. It was used only to hide certain individuals from the
authorities.”

* * *

She gave him a look that made him set the lantern
down and slip his arms around her as she said, “I am not certain
what I hoped to find. Imagination often is so much more fun than
truth.” She sighed. “Do you mean you never found even one
treasure?”