Regina Scott (15 page)

Something inside her snapped. All the emotions she’d kept bottled up came streaming out. She could feel them in the way her body tensed, hear them in the sharp words. “I have never hired a bodyguard, my lord. I never saw the need for protection, as you put it. Neither do I need the services of a nanny or nurse.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you did,” he said, but his usual calm voice seemed to have deserted him. In fact he looked nearly as angry as she felt, his eyes narrowed, his hands fisted. It seemed even a diplomat found dealing with her emotions trying.

“But if the man following you was not in your employ,” he said, “then someone may wish you ill. He could easily have been the one to accost you just now. Let me help you discover who it is.”

More help. Always help. What, had she no gumption, no imagination to learn the nature of her enemy? Did he see her as so incapable?

Every part of her shook with the emotions welling up. She stepped next to him, raised her chin and pressed her hands against the green tweed of his waistcoat.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, my lord,” she said, punching out each word like a thrust of her sword. “My affairs are my own. I don’t need help from you, your son, any of my cousins or their wives. I don’t need another hero in my life. I’m surrounded by them!”

As if to prove it the front door banged open, and Jerome, Richard and Vaughn crowded into the entry hall. She dropped her hands and stepped back from Will to meet their onslaught.

“What’s this about a thief?” Jerome demanded, dark head high as if ready to fight.

“If he’s hurt you, I promise he’ll pay,” Vaughn declared, face hardened with purpose.

“Count on us to help,” Richard agreed, hands held tight at his sides.

Samantha’s look to Will was pointed. But he didn’t argue, didn’t attempt to further the fight, with her or her cousins. He stood there, head high, a rock.

But not one she was ready to lean on.

She turned to her cousins. “I’m fine,” she assured them. “I have staff searching the house for intruders and missing items, and I’ve sent the footmen to search the stables and alert the gamekeeper to watch the woods. If there’s a stranger among us, we’ll find him.”

She could see the protests building in their eyes, their stiffening shoulders. No! She was not going to listen to another word of remonstrance. She could handle her own affairs. It was time they all learned that.

She pushed past them to the door. “Excuse me. I must finish the preparations if we’re to have a party in a few days, and I refuse to be cowed by someone who hasn’t the backbone to look me in the eye when raising his hand for a blow.”

Chapter Fifteen

S
tubborn, valiant woman! Will watched as Samantha swept out the door, her cousins right behind, voices raised in protest and demand. Only one failed to follow, standing there with his hands behind his dun-tail coat.

Jerome Everard eyed Will across the space. “You found her, I take it.”

Will wasn’t sure whether to expect a challenge or a barrage of questions, but he stood taller. “I did.”

The oldest of the Everard cousins nodded. “Thank you. She can usually take care of herself, but someone got the better of her this time. I’m glad you were there to help.” He turned for the door.

“So am I,” Will murmured. Indeed, he could not remember feeling so determined. He was fairly certain her anger stemmed from frustration and fear. His did. Seeing her there on the floor had made him feel as helpless as when he’d watched Peg take her last breath, newborn babe in her arms.

Samantha did not want his help to uncover the villain who had struck her, but he could not see a lady harmed. Besides, identifying her assailant would convince her she could trust him. Then he’d have the answers he sought.

Help me, Lord. Let the truth come out, in both cases.

He paused on his way to the door. She had said she needed no hero. Indeed, she persistently saw his offers of help as an insult to her capabilities when he meant them as courtesies. Perhaps instead of solving the problems for her he should partner with her on the investigation.

He had no doubt she knew things he would never consider, and he had experience she could not have gained. And the more she saw him working on her behalf, the more she would trust him. But when he approached her he needed a peace offering, and he thought he knew just where to find it, in the muniment room.

As he entered the room, he saw nothing out of order. All the books and papers were lined up neatly on the shelves. He found where Haygood had been reviewing some estate records related to the summer party. Will wasn’t sure how the information was connected to the Everard lineage. Perhaps Haygood sought to help Samantha prepare now by studying previous parties. Will had another way to help the lady. He got down on his hands and knees and peered under the lips of the bookcases near the door until he spotted the only thing he might have kicked.

He fished out the folio knife, and his fingers tightened on the silver. Had the culprit been using this for its intended purpose, or had he planned to use it as a weapon? If so, why strike Samantha and Haygood? Or had Will found them before the villain could do more harm? Palming the knife, he went to find Samantha.

She stood in the center of the meadow, but with her servants dashing about and her cousins stalking about, she looked as if she waited in the eye of the storm. Her arms were crossed over her chest, he thought perhaps in an attempt to hold her emotions in. He put on his most charming smile and approached cautiously.

“Allow me to apologize,” he said. “You are an intelligent, talented peeress, and I never meant to imply that you were anything less than capable.”

She lowered her arms, but she didn’t smile. “And I apologize. I suspect I have been patronized one time too many.”

“And struck on the head,” Will pointed out.

She grimaced. “That, too. Oh, but I’d like to know who would dare!”

Will closed the gap between them. “So would I. These are our people, our place. If there’s a danger, we must put a stop to it.”

He thought she might protest his assumption they were in this together, but she nodded, eyes narrowing. “You’re right. This villain has brought the fight to Evendale, but he will find that we are more than a match for him.”

“And the more knowledge we have, the easier it will be to apprehend him,” Will assured her.

She cocked her head as if trying to see the problem from that angle. Her three cousins, and her for that matter, seemed to prefer to act first and ask questions later. Will had come to appreciate the opposite approach.

“What do you suggest?” she asked warily.

Will offered her the folio knife. “Let us pool our insights and our talents. I found this just now, under the lip of a bookcase in the muniment room.”

At last she smiled. “So that’s where it went. I must have dropped it when I fell.”

He had thought he’d learned to keep a stoic face during negotiations, but he had evidently lost the skill for her laugh bubbled up, pushing back the darkness of the past hour. “Don’t look so shocked, Will. I told you I can take care of myself.”

“Forgive my presumption,” he managed, handing her the knife with a bow.

She took it with another laugh. “So where do we go from here?”

“I suggest,” Will said, straightening, “that we attempt to determine who was in the manor just now.”

“I have servants searching,” she reminded him, toying with the silver handle of the knife in a way that would have raised his concerns for his safety had she been anyone else.

“What I planned was a bit more subtle,” he said, offering her his arm. Looking once more bemused, she put her hand on his, and they set off.

The other members of her family and staff had been alerted to the possible danger, but each was willing to talk to Will, particularly with Samantha at his side. After depositing the knife in the muniment room, they looked for possible witnesses. As it turned out, at the time of the attack, Imogene had been in the rear garden supervising her twin sons as they prepared to go fishing with Jamie. She had noticed no one enter the manor by the kitchen door. Of course, given the attention her boisterous sons required, Will could forgive her if she had missed seeing someone.

The two gardeners trimming hedges at the side of the manor were more certain that no one had entered by the tower door near them. The footman on duty at the front door would surely have seen and stopped any stranger attempting to enter that way. So, it was highly likely that whoever had struck Samantha and Haygood had been in the manor ahead of them.

“That still leaves too many people,” Will told Samantha as they returned to the house.

“Not really,” she countered. She’d been so intent on Will’s questions that he could only hope she approved of his approach. “There are only two ways to the muniment room, from the entry hall and down the south tower stairs.” She squeezed his arm. “Let’s ask Chevers who came through the hall.” She fairly pulled him inside.

The footman answered her questions readily enough, as if used to his mistress’s odd whims. “Lord Kendrick, yourself, Mr. Haygood, and Lord Widmore passed, your ladyship,” he said. Then he glanced at Will contritely as if afraid he’d given something away. “And of course the captain’s lady was upstairs.”

As Samantha thanked the footman, Will frowned in thought. Suspecting Vaughn Everard was easy. The man’s role in Gregory’s death was still a mystery, and though Vaughn assured everyone he had outgrown his wild ways, his own wife indicated otherwise. Yet by all accounts, he adored Samantha. Why strike her? He had every right to be in the muniment room if he chose. Why would he need to hide his presence, to the point of battering two people?

Claire made as little sense. She had been Samantha’s sponsor for her Season, Will knew from Jamie. She had stayed in the house previously, so if she’d had cause to steal anything she could have taken it years ago. Certainly Samantha and all her family trusted the woman.

Samantha had evidently reached the same conclusion. “None of them is the culprit,” she insisted as they moved away from the footman. “We’re looking for a stranger, perhaps the man you saw following me. I’m certain of it.”

Will wished he could be so certain. “We have one more witness,” he reminded her, “but I doubt Haygood is up to questioning.”

“Let’s find out,” she said and led the way up the stairs.

Samantha’s suitor was sitting up in the bedchamber he had been given, an outrageously feminine room in pink and white that Will’s mother would have adored. Haygood looked far less comfortable, even reclining against the gilded white headboard of the bed. Adele sat beside him, placing a cool compress on his brow, and her mother Mrs. Dallsten Walcott stood next to her, carrying on a helpful dialogue.

“And asparagus,” she was insisting as Will and Samantha entered the room. “I have heard it is most efficacious in cases of the megrims. It must be ground up and sprinkled in tea.”

Haygood choked and turned the movement into a cough. “Most kind of you, but I assure you, I’m fine.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Will said, moving with Samantha up to the bed. “I imagine it was a nasty surprise coming upon Lady Everard that way.”

At the sight of Samantha, Haygood struggled to sit taller. “Oh, my dear, that you should see me like this!” He pulled back from Adele’s ministrations with a wince. “Do tell me you are feeling better.”

“I’m fine,” she promised him. “Lord Kendrick has some questions for you about our attack. I’m sure you can help discover the culprit.”

He wilted against the pillow, eyes widening. “Anything for you.”

Will refused to encourage him. “Can you remember anything more about the scene? Did you hear anything, catch the scent of cologne, perfume?”

Adele was frowning at Will as if she wasn’t sure what he was about, but Mrs. Dallsten Walcott clapped her hands.

“Oh, well done, my lord. We shall uncover the culprit.” She affixed Haygood with a stern eye. “What do you remember, sir? Search the depths of your mind.”

Haygood swallowed against his squashed cravat as if he doubted his mind had sufficient depth to search. “Nothing! I swear! One moment I was bending over Lady Everard, the next waking up on the floor. I beg you all to just leave me alone!” He burst into tears and covered his face in his hands.

Samantha raised her brows, and Mrs. Dallsten Walcott looked ready to remonstrate, but her daughter rose, forestalling all conversation.

“I believe we should do as Mr. Haygood asks,” she said, so firmly that Will had no choice but to quit the room, Samantha beside him and Mrs. Dallsten Walcott right behind. As soon as the door shut, however, Adele stopped in the corridor.

“What are you about, Samantha?” she asked.

“Merely trying to catch our villain,” Samantha replied. “Lord Kendrick is very good at solving difficulties. He’s had years of experience, haven’t you, my lord?”

He felt as if he’d gained two inches in height as he gazed down at Adele’s narrowed eyes. “Indeed.”

Her lips tightened, but he could not be sure whether she was fighting laughter or a tart response. He hadn’t had a moment to converse privately with her before now, but he remembered her friendship when he was growing up. The Dallsten Walcotts and the Wentworths had been close in those days, so close many had considered a match between his brother and her likely. Then her father had died, leaving a mountain of debt, and Gregory, as was typical, had turned his sights elsewhere.

Looking at her now, the epitome of elegance from her carefully coiffed dark brown hair to the lace edging her pale muslin gown, he had one more reason to suspect his older brother’s character and intelligence had been impaired.

She turned to Samantha. “I’m very glad to hear you have availed yourself of his skills. I’m certain Lord Kendrick will be a match...for the villain.”

As if she meant to protect Will, Samantha stepped between him and Adele. “Let me take those for you, Adele. I’m sure Jerome must be wondering where you are.”

Perhaps Samantha had the makings of a diplomat after all. Adele smiled as she handed her the bowl and towel, then excused herself. But as she passed Will, he would have sworn she winked at him.

When Adele had started down the corridor, Mrs. Dallsten Walcott touched Will’s arm. “My daughter is right. You are a very clever fellow, Lord Kendrick.” She gave a nod of approval. “Tell me, do you believe this story of a thief?”

He had wondered about the motivation, but it suddenly struck him that he could be looking at the very person. Jamie had said the lady was pilfering from Dallsten Manor. Will had thought Samantha was aware of the problem, but what if she wasn’t? What if the lady had seen fit to hide her deeds by the strategic use of a blow to the head? She might be elderly, but he’d seen no sign of her strength failing. And she certainly had as much determination as Samantha. What was more, no servant had mentioned her whereabouts during the past few hours.

He rubbed his chin with one hand even as he drew Samantha closer with the other. “I have been considering the matter.”

Samantha frowned at him, but her chaperone leaned forward as if to impart a secret. “It’s rubbish. Nothing is missing. I know. No, sir, this person had another reason to accost Lady Everard and Mr. Haygood.” Her eyes narrowed. “Have you considered your son?”

Will blinked, but Samantha rose immediately to the defensive, stiffening beside him.

“Jamie?” she scoffed. “What possible reason could he have?”

Mrs. Dallsten Walcott shook her finger at Samantha. “He is in love with you, and he must have seen that Mr. Haygood has a similar obsession. What better way to rid himself of his rival than to discredit him in your eyes for a fool and a weakling, unable to protect you?”

It might have made sense, had she been talking about any other man except his son. “Lord Wentworth adores Lady Everard,” Will said. “He would never strike her.”

Samantha nodded so adamantly that she set the water in the porcelain bowl to sloshing.

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Dallsten Walcott said, turning toward the stairs. “But stranger things have been done in the name of love.”

“Ignore her,” Samantha advised as her chaperone flounced away. “It cannot have been Jamie.”

“Agreed,” Will replied. “Though she is right that we should not rule out anyone unless we have proof.”

“I’ll accept the proof of my heart in this case,” Samantha said, heading for the stairs herself. “No one in my family would have struck me, and neither would Jamie or Prentice Haygood.”

“I notice you do not include me,” he said, moving to take her burden from her. That she accepted his help in carrying the basin told him he was making headway in earning her trust.

“That goes without saying,” she said, lifting her skirts to start down the stairs. “From nearly the moment I arrived you have been my friend. Thank you.”