Escaping Notice (14 page)

“The earl —”

She glanced at him. “Of course, if the earl returns, I will send
word. Leave your card with Symes.”

Unseen by the others, Helen entered the hallway. She stood
hesitantly a few feet away from the tense cluster. As if sensing
him, she looked in Hugh’s direction. When he caught her eye, he
shook his head. She transferred her gaze to the floor.

Symes was the first to notice her. “You there,” he said. “Did
you bring Miss Leigh’s brandy?”

“Yes, sir.” She held out a small glass filled with amber
liquid.

“She’s had a terrible shock.” He waved her forward.

She handed the glass to Miss Leigh, who grabbed it and swallowed
the contents in one gulp, causing her to go into a paroxysm of
coughing. Helen eased the small glass from her hand and put an arm
around Miss Leigh’s thin shoulders.

“May I help you upstairs? You should lie down.” Helen’s puzzled
gaze flew first to Mr. Symes and then Mr. Gaunt, but both ignored
her. “Come, Miss Leigh, you should lie down.”

Face red and damp from coughing, Miss Leigh leaned on Helen’s
arm, and allowed herself to be led away.

When Gaunt placed his hat on his head in preparation to leave,
Hugh slid quietly through the library and out of the French doors
into the garden. He headed towards the front drive, hoping to cut
Gaunt off before he departed. Halfway around, he met his quarry.
Hugh waved and led him off towards a small copse of trees where
they could not be seen from the house.

“What have you discovered?” Hugh asked, turning abruptly as he
rounded the bole of a large oak.

“It’s early, yet,” Gaunt remarked. “They have collected the
debris from the Twilight, however. And the constabulary of
Burnham-on-Sea has instituted an investigation.”

“Any sign of Lionel?”

“Not yet. I’m sorry.”

Hugh ran a hand through his hair, glancing once over his
shoulder in the direction of Ormsby. “Why did you not warn my aunt
that Lionel is most likely dead? She may not see it as a kindness
when she finds out.”

“You’ve presented me with a bit of a problem, my lord. According
to your story, you were the only one who knew your brother went out
with you on the Twilight. It would be impossible for me to know, or
tell anyone, that Lionel is most likely drowned. Without his
remains, how would I know unless you had told me?”

“Yes, but damn it, when she does discover it —”

“I’m sorry. However, there is no easy way to do this; no way to
spare her feelings
̶
or
those of anyone else.
”

“There is no sign, then, of Lionel?”

“No. As I mentioned, it’s possible that he survived —”

“No,” Hugh said, feeling the waves battering him, tearing him
away from the foundering boat and his brother. The unbearable,
unforgiveable lightness when he had lost his grip on Lionel. “No. I
realize there is no proof, but he could not have survived.
Eventually, we’ll have to reveal that Lionel is dead.”

“Perhaps, but not until I have that information from other
source. I am unwilling to reveal that you have survived until I
know exactly what happened.”

“I’m not enamored of the idea, either. I’ve no desire for
someone to try again.” Hugh rotated his stiff shoulders. “So you
must continue to make your inquires outside Ormsby. I’ll see what I
can discover here. The boat was in dry dock until the day before I
took her out. Whoever did this had to know I would take her out.
That means they have to be someone local —
o
r one of the guests at Ormsby. I’ll forward the guest
list. Is there anything else?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I checked at the docks. One of the
three men there indicated they had seen a stranger in a dark blue
jacket and cap. They did not know him and chased him away. But he
was near the Twilight the night before you took her out.”

“What did he look like?”

“It was nearing dusk, and they did not get a good view of him.
The witness indicated that when he yelled at the man, asking him
his business, he ran off.” Gaunt shrugged. “So, this may have
nothing to do with your accident. Or it may be pertinent.”

“He could have come back later. See if you can trace him.”

“Certainly. Shall we agree to meet here in the evening, so I can
keep you informed of my findings?”

“Agreed.” Hugh shook hands with Gaunt.

Gaunt’s grip tightened as he studied him. “How are you holding
up?”

Hugh shrugged, unwilling to discuss his personal affairs any
more than necessary. Nonetheless, the question made him aware of
the uncomfortable tension tightening his gut and enflaming an anger
he hoped to hide beneath his normal, affable exterior.

“No one suspects who you are?”

Hugh forced a chuckle. “No. If they suspect anything, it’s that
I’m one of the previous earl’s by-blows.”

“I wouldn’t relish remaining incognito — as a servant no less —
in my own home. When you end this charade, send word. I can
investigate —”

Hugh held up a hand. “It is not as unbearable as you might
think. In fact, I’m quite enjoying it so far.” This stretched the
truth a bit; he suspected he might learn some uncomfortable truths
about himself, but in the end, it wouldn’t matter how much it hurt.
He had to do this, needed to do it to find out what had happened.
Why Lionel had had to die.

He glanced at the house. His duties, left undone, haunted him.
This masquerade could not last forever. However, despite his
tension, part of him found his new position freeing. He hadn’t
realized how much responsibility he had shouldered when the title
of Earl of Monnow had come to him after his father’s death. He
almost envied his servants, except they only had a few hours off on
Sundays and one Wednesday a month.

So much for freedom. He suspected that after a week or so, he
would discover that the role of earl was preferable.

“I will leave you to it, then.” Gaunt said.

Hugh nodded his dismissal, watching as Gaunt disappeared around
the corner of the house. Who could he question next, without
raising more consternation and doubts about his own presence at
Ormsby? Hugh strolled back to the library door.

For the first time, it occurred to him that there were few
people he had ever confided in; few who knew him well, except for
Lionel. He was alone with only gossip and rumor to guide him.

“
She should always be punctual in her attendance, and
assiduous in her attention.” —
The Complete
Servant

“What has happened?” Helen asked as she guided her employer into
her bedroom. Miss Leigh’s gray face and staring eyes alarmed her.
“Are you unwell?”

“Nothing has happened. I’m tired. Very tired.” Miss Leigh stared
at the bed with an uncomprehending gaze.

“Would you like another brandy? A restorative?”

Miss Leigh shook her head, but Helen suspected she had not heard
what she had said. The older woman looked terrible. Her skin sagged
and her thin lips moved as if she were talking quietly to herself.
Not waiting for a reply, Helen found her way to the kitchen and
requested a hot toddy for Miss Leigh. Despite the cook’s grumbles,
she concocted the drink and handed it over to Helen, all the while
studying her as if she suspected she wanted the drink for
herself.

Balancing the steaming mug on a silver tray, Helen hurried
upstairs. When she opened the bedroom door, Miss Leigh still stood
where she’d left her, in the center of her room, staring down at
her bed.

Pausing to catch her breath, Helen gently touched Miss Leigh’s
wrist. “I’ve brought you a toddy, Miss Leigh.”

“A toddy! Whatever for? I detest those things —”

“I think you need it, you must have had a terrible shock. Why
don’t you sit here by the window and drink this? I’ll get your bed
ready.”

When she did not move, Helen gently steered her towards the
low-backed padded chair, which had a delicate pie-crust table
standing next to it. Setting the tray down on the table, she helped
Miss Leigh seat herself before going to the wardrobe and pulling
out a heavy woolen shawl which she draped around the older woman’s
shoulders. At the touch of the thick material, Miss Leigh grabbed
the edges and pulled it tightly around her as if she were freezing
— despite the flames from the fireplace brightening the room. At
last, she picked up the heavy tankard and took a sip.

Grimacing, she started to put it down until Helen touched the
side and said, “Please, take another swallow. It will make you feel
so much better.”

“I feel perfectly fine.” Miss Leigh’s querulous voice shook.

“I’m relieved,” Helen replied, keeping her voice low and
soothing. “I was so worried when you returned so soon after
dinner.” She desperately wanted to ask again what had happened, but
she realized belatedly that as a servant, she could not question
her employer.

“I was tired.” Miss Leigh sighed. “I suppose the servants will
hear soon enough. They’ve found the earl’s boat.”

“The earl’s boat? Was it missing?” Helen held her breath. She
had just asked a very impertinent question and would be lucky if
Miss Leigh did not berate her for doing so.

“Not, missing, no. The earl took it out a few days ago. He has
not returned.”

“Oh, Miss Leigh! I’m terribly sorry. Are you sure you do not
want the doctor?”

“Do not be absurd.” She drained the toddy. “An inquiry agent,
perhaps.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Miss Leigh stood up, weaving slightly before she placed the mug
on the small table with a snap. The table shuddered and Helen
hurriedly steadied it, watching her employer.

“What I need is an inquiry agent! My nephew, Lionel, is
missing.”

“But the earl —”

“Forget the earl! The earl is not missing, my darling Lionel is!
Now, fetch me my shawl!”

“Your shawl?”

Shaking a fist under Helen’s nose, Miss Leigh focused on her,
brows drawn down tightly over her thin nose. “Yes, my shawl! You
are not too bright, are you, my girl? I thought not. And your big
dolt of a brother is most likely just as bad. Ignorant peasants,
both of you! Well, there’s nothing to be done about it. You have
been hired without a by-your-leave or warning, which I should have
expected knowing the earl as I do. But I can tell you, young woman,
I will not tolerate flightiness or wool-gathering!
Now get my
shawl
!”

“But you cannot mean to go out
now
! It’s nearly
midnight!” A ringing slap stung Helen’s face, bringing tears to her
eyes.

“Don’t presume to tell me what I can or cannot do!”

“I’m sorry, Miss!” Helen stepped back out of reach, holding her
cool fingers against the heat of her throbbing cheek. “I was
worried about you going out so late. I’m sorry.”

“Well, don’t worry about me,” Miss Leigh said, although her
pinched look of anger gradually subsided into a tense
concentration. “I shall speak to Mr. Symes, instead. I shall send
him
for that inquiry agent — the one who was just here.”

“Very good, Miss. Shall I ring for him?”

“That will do. Yes. Ring for Mr. Symes.” Smoothing her skirts,
Miss Leigh hesitated before sitting down again, rather like a queen
resuming her throne.

Eager to leave before Miss Leigh changed her mind, Helen hurried
out. Her cheek prickled and burned, presaging the development of a
bruise.

Well, she was a servant now. And if this continued, she would
shortly look like a very abused one.

“ …
besides, a liar is always in fear of being detected ….”
—
The Complete Servant

Hurrying toward the front hall to find Mr. Symes, Helen was
stopped by someone calling her name.

“Helen,” Hugh called, striding toward her.

She stopped and almost faced him, before her fingers fluttered
to her reddened cheek. Turning partially away, she nodded and
waited for him to join her.

“Have you settled in?”

“Yes. But I’m supposed to be finding Mr. Symes. Miss Leigh wants
to speak to him.”

“Why didn’t you just ring for him?” he asked, sounding
exasperated. When he moved round to face her more directly, she
sidled away, keeping her eyes on the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing.”

Without warning, he gripped her chin and brought her face up.
“What happened? Did she hit you?”

“I, um, it was nothing. I forgot my place and asked too many
questions.”

“Damn it, Helen, this is intolerable. Miss Leigh is —”

“Miss Leigh is just a sad old woman. It’s not that dreadful. I
won’t forget again.”

His fingers brushed over her face, leaving streaks of warmth
behind. “You don’t have to stay. If you tell me what you’re looking
for, I can find it and return it to you.” He smiled before
releasing her. “You’re too pretty to be a maid.”

The careless remark, on top of her anxiety over her position
with Miss Leigh, almost made her lose her temper. How like a man to
think prettiness made a woman into a silly, ineffectual creature
who could not be expected to bear the rigors of an active life. How
like a man to notice only the frills and furbelows, the color of
one’s hair, and assume that was all there was to see. Even Hugh saw
only the pale blonde of her hair and let that blind him to the
plainness of her features.

“I’m perfectly capable of finding the —” She stopped and clamped
her teeth together, ignoring the gleam in Hugh’s blue eyes. He had
almost tricked her into telling him what she was searching for.
That would never do. “I will handle my affairs while you handle
yours.”

When he shrugged good-humoredly and turned to go, she caught his
sleeve. Without noticing it, he nearly lifted her off her feet
before he halted.

“Wait,” she said. “I was sent to find Mr. Symes. She wants to
hire an inquiry agent to search for her nephew.”