The Contraband Courtship (The Arlingbys Book 2) (28 page)

An elegant traveling carriage sporting a gilded crest on its gleaming black lacquered doors rumbled up the graveled drive of Wroxton Hall, through the dappled shade of a pleached
allée
, which opened onto a vast lawn. The early afternoon sun glinted off the highly polished brass fittings, while the team of bays that drew it was perfectly matched. A fair-haired young woman leaned out the window, looking up eagerly at the Hall, which rose above the lawn, its limestone walls white against the brilliant sky. As they drew up, the gentleman riding next to the carriage dismounted and tossed the reins of his horse to the footman who had rushed out immediately upon their arrival.

“I’ll attend to Lady Brayleigh,” he said. He opened the door of the carriage and let down the stairs. The woman stepped out, holding his hand tightly.

“Oh, Alaric, it has been so long since I have seen Wroxton Hall,” she breathed. “I could not bear to be here after Papa died, nor did I care to visit when Cousin Felix was the earl.”

More servants had materialized and were busy unloading the trunks off the carriage, while Lord Brayleigh gave instructions to his groom to see to the horses. As he mounted the steps with his wife, the wide oaken door opened and Catherwood emerged, beaming as he escorted them into the hall.

“Welcome home, Miss Rowena—or Lady Brayleigh, I should say,” he said with a bow.

“Thank you, Catherwood,” Rowena replied warmly as she removed her modish hat. “How is Mrs. Macomber?”

“She is very well, and will be pleased to hear you asked after her.”

Rowena glanced at her husband. “Brayleigh, this is Catherwood, who has known me since I was a child.”

“Welcome to Wroxton Hall, my lord,” said the butler, bowing again. He took the earl’s hat with a flourish.

“I’m pleased to meet the conspirator of my wife’s childhood,” Alaric replied.

“She shouldn’t have told you such tales,” demurred Catherwood, but he seemed very pleased nonetheless.

“Is my brother here?” asked Rowena.

“His lordship is in the library, my lady. Allow me to escort you there.”

Scarcely had Catherwood spoken when a door across the immense entrance hall was flung open, and Malcolm emerged. “Rowena!” he called and in a moment the brother and sister were sharing a hug.

“Malcolm, how wonderful to see you, and how delightful to be home!” said Rowena.

“Be careful, sister, or Brayleigh here will think you don’t care for his estates,” Malcolm laughed.

Alaric regarded them with raised eyebrows. “How heartwarming to see the two of you together,” he murmured. “No doubt trouble is sure to follow.”

“Aye, you’re always looking for the gloom in everything,” said Malcolm. “Come into the library, there’s no need to stand about in the hall. Catherwood, bring refreshments; I’m sure my sister is famished.”

“Not at all.” Rowena sank into a chair, her skirts billowing about her. “We made such excellent progress that we stopped and had an enormous luncheon in Stanford.” She glanced up at her husband. “Alaric’s horses are so fast.”

“They are, are they? I’d put my own up against them any day.”

“You would lose,” said Alaric firmly.

“A challenge is it?” demanded Malcolm.

“No, it is not,” interjected Rowena peevishly. “Can the two of you not be in the same room for five minutes without quarreling?”

“I fear not, my dear.” Alaric placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Your brother is as rash as ever.”

“Your husband would annoy a saint, Rowena,” rejoined Malcolm.

“The two of you will give me the headache if you do not stop your nonsense. Alaric, you behave yourself; you are a guest in my brother’s home. Malcolm, you do likewise; after all, you are the owner of Wroxton Hall now and it behooves you to be polite.”

“I wasn’t calling him out,” said Malcolm. “I was only thinking of a race—to Folkestone perhaps.”

“I don’t have my curricle with me, but I will be glad to oblige you once we return to London,” said Alaric.

“There will be no racing,” interrupted Rowena. “Really, I have no need for the two of you to get into more trouble than you already have.”

“Very well, I’ll leave your husband in peace, though I have no doubt I would have won.”

Alaric opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again under the quelling look Rowena shot at him.

“I was never more surprised than when I received your letter telling me you meant to have a ball at Wroxton,” said Rowena, guiding the conversation to calmer waters.

“It seemed right, given the hospitality extended to me since I arrived here. You will be amazed to know I’ve attended an assembly and done the pretty with the locals for weeks now. I’ve eaten dinner at any number of houses and met more people than I can remember.”

“I am amazed. An assembly? Truly? Did you dance?”

“It wasn’t so bad,” shrugged Malcolm. “The people hereabouts are rather pleasant, once you get to know them.”

Catherwood entered with the tea tray, and disposed of it on the table in front of Rowena. She busied herself with the cups. “Rather pleasant?” she echoed. “I never thought to hear you say you enjoy rusticating in the country when you could be in London.”

Malcolm dropped down in a chair across from her and accepted a teacup. “To tell you the truth, Rowena, I barely miss London. Of course, Del accompanied me, which helps a great deal, but I’ve found more than enough to do here at Wroxton. I’ve found time to make a few improvements that I think will be a great help.”

Rowena exchanged a glance with Alaric. “Who will be at the ball?”

“Lord, I don’t know. Del, of course, Mrs. Honeysett, the Cuthberts, Sir Tarquin and Lady Valerie, and some horrible sounding people named the Beasleys. No doubt you remember most of them. If you want a full accounting, you should talk to Miss Keighley. She made up the guest list.”

Rowena glanced up. “Miss Keighley?”

“She’s been quite a help,” said Malcolm cheerfully. “I couldn’t have done all this without her.”

“So you have met her.”

“I met her the first day I was here. You made me promise to visit her, if you recall.”

“I do remember, but I was not at all sure you would.” Rowena paused. “What do you think of her?”

“I think she’s far too clever for her own good,” said Malcolm firmly. “But we’ve an uneasy truce, and that brother of hers is a good fellow.”

“You dislike her?” Rowena sounded disappointed.

“I don’t dislike her, or I wouldn’t have sought her help with the ball,” said Malcolm breezily. “She’s just not my style precisely.”

“Oh.” Rowena fiddled with her teacup. “She is a friend of mine, you know. I’m very fond of her.”

“Then you will be pleased that she will be here this afternoon. I will send around telling her of your arrival.”

“Dear Helena. I will be so glad to see her.” She glanced up at her brother speculatively, but could read nothing from his expression. “Who comes from London?” she finally asked.

“Lord and Lady Hadaway, the Hewitts, the Rushtons and their daughter,” said Malcolm. “Oh, and Mrs. Lacey is here.”

Rowena made a moue of distaste. “Really, Malcolm, did you have to invite her? I was hoping you had moved on from that little infatuation.”

“Infatuation?” Malcolm gave a hoot of laughter. “I know better than to become infatuated at my age. I didn’t invite her; she came.”

“Well, I must say that was very rude of her. You should have sent her packing.”

“Why? It’s not as though she’s bad
ton
, and it would look odd if she left. We’ll make the best of it,” responded Malcolm.

“I’m sure you will,” said Rowena sharply.

Just as it looked as though trouble was brewing between the siblings, the door opened and Mrs. Macomber entered the room, her face wreathed in smiles. “Catherwood said you were here, Miss Rowena—I mean, Lady Brayleigh. May I take you to your room?”

Rowena leapt to her feet and rushed to greet the housekeeper. “You are perfectly free to call me Miss Rowena,” she said warmly. “Lady Brayleigh sounds like a dowager! I could doubtless find my room myself, but I would love to have you come with me so I can catch up on all the doings here at Wroxton. How does your grandson?”

“Very well, my lady, and thank you for asking,” replied Mrs. Macomber. “His lordship has hired him as a stable boy, for which I’m ever so grateful.”

“I’m sure he will soon be a groom,” Rowena enthused. “Will you come with me, Alaric? I need a rest before dinner.” She threw her husband a teasing glance.

Brayleigh turned with alacrity to accompany her, but Malcolm raised one hand. “A moment, if you please, Brayleigh,” he said.

Brayleigh looked surprised, but assented. “I’ll be along soon, my dear,” he said to Rowena. “You have a long chat with Mrs. Macomber.”

“Don’t keep him too long, Malcolm, I have need of him.” Rowena left the room with the housekeeper, already deep in conversation.

Brayleigh turned to his brother-in-law. “What is it, Wroxton? If this is about the horses, Rowena—“

“The devil fly away with the horses,” interrupted Malcolm. “I only said that because Rowena wouldn’t know what to do with herself if we didn’t quarrel. Though I’m sure my horses could beat yours; you should see the sweet-goers I have in my stables.”

If a gentleman of such excellent
ton
as Lord Brayleigh could be said to roll his eyes, he did so. “You wished to say something to me, Wroxton?”

“Sit down,” urged Malcolm. “Will you have some brandy? I cannot fathom how you can stand maudling your insides with that tea.”

“I’m sure that, in a few minutes, brandy will be more than welcome,” said Alaric. He abandoned his teacup and accepted the glass Malcolm offered him, sinking down in a chair and regarding his brother-in-law coolly.

There was a moment of silence as Malcolm fiddled with his snifter. Alaric sighed.

“If you have nothing to say, my wife awaits me,” he said.

“I have plenty to say, I just am not sure how to say it. It will sound outlandish to you, no doubt.”

“There is very little you could say that would surprise me, as I find all your statements outlandish. Out with it, Wroxton, I don’t have all day.”

“Very well. I have spent more time than I let on to Rowena with Miss Keighley. It seems that her suspicions of smuggling activities were true.” Malcolm glanced up to see Alaric watching him intently. “I have promised to help her rid our estates of this scourge.”

“Have you?” said Alaric. “How very enterprising of you, Wroxton.”

Malcolm gave a reluctant laugh. “Miss Keighley is a determined woman. We do not wish to merely chase them off our estates, but, if possible, to stop the traffic all together.”

“How do you mean to do that?” asked Brayleigh, taking a sip of brandy.

“They are organized enough that it is clear there is a leader of this enterprise. It took some time, but we learned it is Denby.”

Alaric raised his eyebrows. “Dear me. How awkward.”

“Yes, it is, damn it,” said Malcolm. “His estate is just down the road, but it is not on the water, so his gang carries the contraband across our land. The men are ruffians, and have burned some tenants’ cottages, not to mention terrifying the women and children. I won’t have it, and neither will Miss Keighley.”

Brayleigh considered him. “What do you mean to do?”

“Miss Keighley and I have worked out a clever plot,” said Malcolm. “This ball is part of it, of course.”

“Ah. I thought it was a bit odd that you suddenly wished to entertain.”

“It’s not that I mind it, though the planning is a plaguey nuisance. It’s been very helpful that Miss Keighley has been willing to step in and assist in all matters. Three nights from now there is no moon, and Denby will believe us all to be distracted by the ball. I, and several of the other gentlemen, mean to lie in wait, and I have arranged for the excisemen to be there as well. We shall follow the freetraders to their destination, where I hope to capture Denby red-handed.”

Alaric had put down his brandy and was staring at Malcolm in amazement. “I’ve never heard such a hare-brained scheme.”

“I know it sounds odd, but it’s not nearly as bad as the plan Miss Keighley had. She meant to tell Denby he could court her, and then try to wheedle information out of him.”

“Good God.”

“Exactly. You can see why I needed to dissuade her.”

“In comparison, your plot is a masterpiece of circumspection,” agreed Brayleigh. “I wish the pair of you luck. As long as Rowena is not harmed, you may play at being excisemen all you choose.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate that sentiment, but I need your help,” said Malcolm.

“Of course you do,” sighed Brayleigh. He eyed Malcolm warily. “What nonsense do you require of me?”

“We must make plans with the local riding officer, a fellow named Smithton,” said Malcolm promptly. “He can’t come here, of course, for my bailiff is in Denby’s pocket and would tell him. I can’t be seen talking to the man at all.”

“So you wish for me to do it.”