The Kidnapped Bride (17 page)

Resigned, Sarah apologized and abandoned herself to their ministrations. Some ten minutes later, she was ready, and she and Penny walked over to the main house, entering through the library.

Nicholas had poured himself a glass of wine and, rising, offered one to each of them as well. He smiled at Sarah when he handed her her glass, making her wonder just how she was supposed to know what to expect from him. Half an hour earlier he had been annoyed. Now, it was as though he had no memory whatsoever of the incident.

A few moments later, Colin entered, his shirt changed, his hands and face scrubbed to a rosy glow. Following closely upon his heels came Dasher to announce dinner, and they adjourned to the dining room, where the delicious smell of roast pork greeted them. The meal was simple, two courses only, but there were enough side dishes to tempt anyone’s appetite, and it was clear the new cook was to be a success. Conversation ambled lightly from one topic to another, until Colin suddenly turned to his uncle and announced that his form had been making a study of Charles I and Cromwell.

“Indeed,” remarked his uncle.

“Yes, sir. It must have been very difficult for the noble houses during the transition.”

“I daresay. Do try some of these creamed onions, Miss Penistone. They are delicious.” Sarah hid a smile.

“Well, I was just wondering,” Colin persisted patiently as he passed the dish on to Miss Penistone, “how so many of them managed to retain family treasures—you know, art work and silver and such stuff—when Cromwell’s army was dashing about confiscating it for the good of the state?” He watched Nicholas hopefully, and despite the common sense which told her Colin’s notion was ridiculous, Sarah found herself waiting impatiently for the answer.

“They hid it, I suppose,” Nicholas replied. “Those old houses had no end of priest holes and hidden cellars. I daresay that’s where most of it went.” He turned his attention to his plate, and Colin cast Sarah a speaking glance.

“What about the Ashton family, sir?” he asked innocently. “Did they hide their treasures?”

Nicholas grinned. “I doubt there was much to hide, brat, but if there was, it was dug up long since to pay some Ashton’s debts. What are you about now, anyway? Trying to cozen her ladyship into believing in buried treasure since she scorned your ghost tales?”

“Not at all, sir,” Colin smiled. “I just wondered.”

“Well, it’s the first interest you’ve shown in your family history that I know about.”

“But if her ladyship does meet a ghost and insists upon hearing his pedigree,” Colin returned sweetly, “I would certainly like to know enough to prove or disprove his information.”

Nicholas chuckled, then eyed his nephew more sternly. “I thought I told you to put that ghost nonsense out of your head.”

“Yes, sir. And had you not mentioned it first, I should not have brought it into our conversation.”

“You are impertinent, Colin. I’d advise you to have a care.”

The boy subsided immediately with a murmured apology, and Sarah stepped bravely into the breach. “Don’t scold him, my lord. I’ve told you, I have no fear of ghosts. You refine too much upon boyish jesting.”

“Perhaps. Suppose we change the subject. Have you thought how you will obtain suitable shoes? You cannot wish to continue with what you are currently wearing.”

“No, my lord. I have my own shoemaker in London, of course, but until someone goes to Town … perhaps, there is someone in the village.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “but there is no need to carry local patronage to such extremes. Give a list of your requirements and the address of your shoemaker to Dasher. He will see to it. What sort of riding boots do you have?”

“York tan.”

“Then you will need a new pair. Have you ordered a habit?”

“I didn’t know if you would approve,” she confessed.

“Don’t be nonsensical, Sarah! Of course you may ride, but you must be suitably attired. If you are referring to my displeasure this afternoon, your attitude is spurious, for you know perfectly well why I was annoyed. And I have already apologized for it.” He spoke as though they were the only two in the room, and a small silence followed his words.

Then Sarah cleared her throat. “I shall order a habit at once, sir. It will be pleasant to be able to ride again. By the way,” she added, deeming that a new subject was desirable, “I saw Beck with Sir William Miles at the funeral. Was he able to provide any useful information?”

“None at all, according to Sir William,” Nicholas replied evenly, “but you needn’t worry about Beck any longer, I daresay. Dasher surprised him later this afternoon, walking through the wood near Dower House, and sent him off with a flea in his ear. I have given orders that he is henceforth to keep away from Ash Park entirely.”

Sarah felt a strong sense of relief but made no comment, and Miss Penistone took up the conversation, remarking upon the fine bursts of scenery she supposed could be found in the neighborhood and drifting from that point to a concise description of her journey from Cornwall. By the time she finished, it was a simple matter to revert to the sort of small talk they had indulged in earlier. Soon, Nicholas called for his port and ordered Colin off to bed, and Sarah and Miss Penistone excused themselves to wander back to Dower House.

Their days fell into a sort of pattern. Betsy prepared their breakfast and a light luncheon, while they continued to take their evening meals at the main house with the earl and Colin. There was still much to be done before Sarah would consider the Dower House comfortable, but she rather enjoyed the work of setting it to rights. The new materials soon arrived and patterns were selected for curtains and bed hangings. New linens and blankets were likewise acquired, and the rest of Sarah’s clothing and footwear were finally delivered. She was particularly pleased with her new riding habit, for although it was black like everything else, it was made of light wool and fitted her exquisitely. The buttons were silver, and daringly, she had had her hat made without a veil and embellished with a jaunty silver feather. To Miss Penistone’s gentle hint that a veil was expected, she rejoined lightly with the necessity for unimpaired vision. Thankfully, nothing was said about the feather. Her first opportunity to wear the new outfit occurred when she met Colin, his eyes brimming with excitement.

“I say, my lady, that Oakes bounder has been round again!”

“Are you certain?” Sarah asked. “I’ve not seen him.”

“Well, Jem did,” he replied. “On one of the tenant farms. He must be nosing about everywhere. But this time maybe we can discover just what he’s about. It’s the Randolph place, and that family’s been here since the Conqueror.”

“The Conqueror?”

“Well, near enough,” he grinned. “But what do you say, ma’am? Shall we investigate?”

She was eager to do so as much for the ride as for the possibility of discovering anything and quickly ran upstairs to change. Moments later, she rejoined him, and they hurried to the stable, where a fresh problem awaited them.

“His lordship has said nothing further about my riding,” Sarah said then. “I’ve no idea which mount would be most suitable.”

“We’ll ask Jem,” Colin decided. “How well do you ride?”

“Competently,” Sarah replied. “I’m not a neck-or-nothing, mind you, but I daresay I can contrive to stay on any animal that’s had a modicum of training.”

Colin was perfectly satisfied with this response and spoke to Jem immediately. The result was that Sarah was soon mounted upon a spirited young ginger gelding. She was very well pleased with him, and he soon proved to have a smooth, even gait and strong forward action. They let the animals have their heads down the main drive and were soon galloping across the Common itself. When Colin signaled a halt at last, Sarah was nearly breathless.

“That was wonderful!” she cried. “It has been donkey’s years since I have ridden like that, for you must know that to do so in Hyde Park, where I usually ride, is not at all the thing. One is expected merely to ride along sedately, stopping now and again to pass the time of day with one’s acquaintances.”

“Sounds devilish slow to me,” pronounced Master Colin.

“Oh, indeed it is,” Sarah agreed fervently. “This is ever so much more stimulating. Are we near to the Randolph place yet?”

“Over that hill yonder,” he replied. “We could have taken the woods path. It’s a bit shorter, but we couldn’t have had our gallop. The path there is not conducive to speed.”

Ten minutes later they rode into a tidy farmyard. It looked as though the little cottage at one end had been newly thatched and painted, and three men were in the process of repairing the gate leading into a paddock of sorts. Colin rode up to the group and hailed one of the men, a burly and ruddy-faced fellow with bristly gray hair and side whiskers, who detached himself from the others at once and came smiling to meet them.

“Master Colin, as I live,” he bellowed. “Welcome. Get ye down, lad, and come in to see Marthy. She’d not forgive me an I neglected t’ show her how big ye’ve growed. Servant, ma’am.” He ducked his head at Sarah.

“This is Lady Moreland, Sam,” Colin informed him, whereupon Mr. Randolph’s complexion became a deeper shade of red and he bowed lower, effusive in his apologies.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Randolph,” Sarah said politely, jumping down from her horse. “How nice everything looks.”

“Thank ’e, my lady. Feels good to be puttin’ it t’ rights again. The missus would be honored to make yer acquaintance, if ye’d condescend to enter our cottage.”

Sarah happily complied and discovered Mrs. Randolph to be a feminine replica of her husband. Gray-headed, slightly florid, and a bit on the plump side, she exclaimed cheerfully over their entrance into her tidy kitchen and sought to wipe the flour from her hands.

“There now, if you didn’t just catch me settin’ my bread to rise,” she chuckled. “Another few hours, and you could have had a slice still warm from the oven with butter meltin’ all over it, like I know you likes it, Master Colin. ’Tis unusual for me to be adoin’ it so late, but with all the extra work goin’ on’, I seem to get behinder every day. And we had a visitor this mornin’ to boot.”

“Mr. Oakes,” Colin responded promptly. “Heard he’d been here. What did he want?”

Sarah was taken aback by his blunt approach, but it didn’t seem to bother the Randolphs. Sam pulled up chairs right there in the kitchen, and Martha quickly set out sweet biscuits on a platter and poured a small glass of her own elderflower champagne for them each before she answered.

“Sam’l thinks the man’s touched in his upper works. Not sure, m’self.” She settled her bulk upon a small bench near the stove and sipped her wine.

“Man’s got to be daft,” Sam put in. “Couldn’t keep to a subject two sentences runnin’. Asked about changes up t’ the house, then about that Beck fellow what called hisself his lordship’s valet, then about the house itself—priest holes, passages, and what-not. I ask ye, Master Colin, did ye ever hear the like?”

“Sounds a curst rum touch to me,” Colin agreed. “What then?”

“Says he’s doin’ a history of old houses on the Common,” Sam said. “Collectin’ fer a book. Doubt the fellow could write one. Talked more cant than flash. Need t’ be flash t’ write books, I’d say.”

“Right.” Colin fell silent after a speaking glance at Sarah. “Did he say anything else? I must say, he seems a curious rogue.”

“Aye, he does that, lad. Asked a few questions about the fourth earl—where he got his money—like that.”

“What did you tell him?”

“What
could
he tell him?” Martha snorted. “Didn’t know t’ last earl
had
any money till he got hitched, beggin’ your pardon, I’m sure, my lady. Couldn’t prove his wealth by this place, that’s certain enough.”

Sam agreed, adding that things looked to be much better under the fifth earl, who seemed to have a good sense of what was needed as well as the blunt to pay for it. From there, the conversation drifted to roofs and repairs and livestock, and Colin made no effort to turn it back again. When Sarah taxed him about it on their return trip, he explained that the subject had plainly played out.

“If there had been more, Sam would have said so. My guess is they couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know either.”

Sarah could only agree, but she had been thinking. “If he murdered Darcy, why does he continue to stay so near?”

“The treasure, of course.”

“But, Colin,” she protested, “if that treasure is so large that Mr. Oakes is willing to risk his neck to find it, why on earth would Darcy have abducted me?” Colin stared at her, awe-stricken, and Sarah quickly realized her error. “You didn’t know. Well, I probably should not speak of it to you. In fact, I’m quite sure that to do so is most improper, but it’s true, nevertheless. He abducted me on account of my grandpapa’s fortune. Why on earth would he have done so if he had already discovered a fortune of his own?”

Colin was silent, digesting this new tidbit and striving to force it into conformation with his theory. “Perhaps he felt he needed a cover for his own sudden wealth,” he suggested finally. “Would people not have wondered about his affluence otherwise?”

Sarah opened her mouth to state that there had been nothing sudden about it, that Darcy had always
looked
affluent enough, that it hadn’t been until her uncle’s investigation that there had seemed to be any mystery about its origin. But, the words never came. Her attention was diverted instead by the view of a rapidly approaching horseman. Colin saw him, too.

“Why, it’s Uncle Nick!” he exclaimed, waving. “Mind now, my lady, not a word to him about our discoveries!”

S
ARAH HAD NO INTENTION
of confiding in Nicholas, but she could not repress a smile of appreciation, for he rode as though he were part of his magnificent bay stallion. He reined in. “Good morning, Countess. Have you not wandered rather far from home?”

“We’ve been visiting Sam and Martha Randolph,” piped up Colin before she could speak. “Martha gave us cake and elderflower champagne. Only a small glass,” he added hastily.

Nicholas turned to him with a smile. “So I should hope! Sam says two glasses of that brew will make the paths go all boggly. I must hope you are both still able to navigate properly.”