The Season
Page 72
twenty-two
He watched the Essex countryside roll past beyond the carriage window. He had been traveling all night—seething with anger.
He had lost everything. All because of that brat. His French partners had broken contact with him. Stopped using his services. It was only a matter of time before they came for him; he knew too much—their identities, their plans, their location.
The girls had to be dealt with. He would not be bested by a gaggle of irritating children.
He knew, without question, that they had been searching the study of Blackmoor House. They had been looking for the same thing he had been looking for—information that could lead to his capture and the capture of his contacts. Information that would see them all hanged.
While he was certain the girls hadn’t found anything—after all, if he had failed to find the evidence designed to incriminate him, he was sure that three silly girls playing at investigators could do no better—but now he was concerned about Blackmoor’s suspicions being raised.
He was growing more desperate. Everything he had worked for was lost. He could not risk losing his life as well. The ridiculous young earl was proving to be no sort of threat; he was just as much of a lapdog as his father had been. But those girls…they had to be silenced. Starting with that meddling Worthington chit, who seemed fearless. If anything happened to her, it would devastate the earl.
He smiled darkly, willing the horses forward.
Alex woke, stretching luxuriously, keenly aware of the sun high in the sky, marking the lateness of the hour. Outside her chamber, she could hear two maids chattering as they moved down the hallway, clearing away any stray dust that might take away from the imposing stature of the manor. One laughed, the sound tinkling through the door, and Alex felt a jolt of happiness at the sound.
Of course, it would have been difficult to dampen her mood on this particular morning, after such a wonderful night shared with Blackmoor. Her Blackmoor. She smiled to herself as a wave of eagerness coursed through her. She wondered if she’d missed the chance to see him at breakfast, if he was still in the house, if she could catch him before he left on whatever excursion her brothers had likely cooked up to avoid the arrival of her parents’ guests. She threw back the covers and bounded from the bed, pulling the bell for Eliza.
She was deep in her wardrobe, poring through clothes, when the knock sounded on her door. She called out, “Enter!” expecting Eliza. Instead, Ella and Vivi entered, then stopped short just inside the room, surprised by the scene they had disturbed.
Vivi spoke first, unable to keep the curiosity from her tone. “Begging your pardon, whatever are you doing?”
Alex stepped back, exclaiming, “Oh! Thank goodness! I don’t have any idea what to wear! You have to help me. What should I wear to make me look”—she waved her hand in the air as she searched for the word—“beautiful? The green walking dress? The lavender day dress? Something else? Help!”
“Whatever for? When have you ever been concerned with fashion?” Ella asked, unable to keep the confusion from her tone.
Vivi understood immediately. “Ella, you really can be dense at times.” She walked toward Alex, pushing her way into the wardrobe beside her. “Looking to impress Blackmoor, are we?”
Alex blushed prettily, peeking around a cream-colored evening gown. “Yes. How did you know?”
“You’ve hardly been the model of discretion,” Vivi pointed out.
Alex held up a turquoise-colored riding habit for Vivi and Ella to consider. “Am I that obvious?”
“Only to those who know you best,” Ella said, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head at the dress and pointing, instead, to the buttercup-colored Empire walking dress that Vivi was holding. “That one.”
Within minutes, Alex was dressed and the three girls had made their way to the terrace of the manor, where they joined the duchess and Will, who were seated under a large linen canopy, out of the sun. As soon as they dropped into the chairs set out for them, Alex announced, “I’m famished!”
The duchess reached for a nearby teapot and poured her daughter a cup of tea while continuing to list the tasks she needed to complete prior to the arrival of several early guests that afternoon. “I’m still not entirely sure how to arrange all the rooms—I thought I had it all complete, then realized that I placed Lady Twizzleton and Lord Vauxwell in adjoining rooms. That won’t do.” She placed two biscuits on the saucer and passed the makeshift breakfast to her youngest child.
“Why can’t you just move one of them to an unused room?” Will queried.
“My dear boy, there aren’t any unused rooms.”
“Mother!” Alex exclaimed around a mouth filled with biscuit. “Whatever do you mean, there aren’t any rooms? There are twenty-three bedchambers in this house.”
“Twenty-four, actually. It seems the party has grown in size.”
“It certainly has! How many young, eligible men did you invite?” Alex’s exasperation showed.
“Not as many as I would have liked,” the duchess replied. Will snickered, only to stop immediately when she explained, “I had to invite eligible young ladies as well…and their parents, of course.”
Alex smiled sweetly at her brother. “Of course. Ah, sweet justice. You have to deal with girls and mothers.”
Will scowled. “At least I’m not the only eligible male in attendance.”
“To that end, where are Nick and Kit and Blackmoor?” Alex queried, attempting to sound casual.
He watched the Essex countryside roll past beyond the carriage window. He had been traveling all night—seething with anger.
He had lost everything. All because of that brat. His French partners had broken contact with him. Stopped using his services. It was only a matter of time before they came for him; he knew too much—their identities, their plans, their location.
The girls had to be dealt with. He would not be bested by a gaggle of irritating children.
He knew, without question, that they had been searching the study of Blackmoor House. They had been looking for the same thing he had been looking for—information that could lead to his capture and the capture of his contacts. Information that would see them all hanged.
While he was certain the girls hadn’t found anything—after all, if he had failed to find the evidence designed to incriminate him, he was sure that three silly girls playing at investigators could do no better—but now he was concerned about Blackmoor’s suspicions being raised.
He was growing more desperate. Everything he had worked for was lost. He could not risk losing his life as well. The ridiculous young earl was proving to be no sort of threat; he was just as much of a lapdog as his father had been. But those girls…they had to be silenced. Starting with that meddling Worthington chit, who seemed fearless. If anything happened to her, it would devastate the earl.
He smiled darkly, willing the horses forward.
Alex woke, stretching luxuriously, keenly aware of the sun high in the sky, marking the lateness of the hour. Outside her chamber, she could hear two maids chattering as they moved down the hallway, clearing away any stray dust that might take away from the imposing stature of the manor. One laughed, the sound tinkling through the door, and Alex felt a jolt of happiness at the sound.
Of course, it would have been difficult to dampen her mood on this particular morning, after such a wonderful night shared with Blackmoor. Her Blackmoor. She smiled to herself as a wave of eagerness coursed through her. She wondered if she’d missed the chance to see him at breakfast, if he was still in the house, if she could catch him before he left on whatever excursion her brothers had likely cooked up to avoid the arrival of her parents’ guests. She threw back the covers and bounded from the bed, pulling the bell for Eliza.
She was deep in her wardrobe, poring through clothes, when the knock sounded on her door. She called out, “Enter!” expecting Eliza. Instead, Ella and Vivi entered, then stopped short just inside the room, surprised by the scene they had disturbed.
Vivi spoke first, unable to keep the curiosity from her tone. “Begging your pardon, whatever are you doing?”
Alex stepped back, exclaiming, “Oh! Thank goodness! I don’t have any idea what to wear! You have to help me. What should I wear to make me look”—she waved her hand in the air as she searched for the word—“beautiful? The green walking dress? The lavender day dress? Something else? Help!”
“Whatever for? When have you ever been concerned with fashion?” Ella asked, unable to keep the confusion from her tone.
Vivi understood immediately. “Ella, you really can be dense at times.” She walked toward Alex, pushing her way into the wardrobe beside her. “Looking to impress Blackmoor, are we?”
Alex blushed prettily, peeking around a cream-colored evening gown. “Yes. How did you know?”
“You’ve hardly been the model of discretion,” Vivi pointed out.
Alex held up a turquoise-colored riding habit for Vivi and Ella to consider. “Am I that obvious?”
“Only to those who know you best,” Ella said, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head at the dress and pointing, instead, to the buttercup-colored Empire walking dress that Vivi was holding. “That one.”
Within minutes, Alex was dressed and the three girls had made their way to the terrace of the manor, where they joined the duchess and Will, who were seated under a large linen canopy, out of the sun. As soon as they dropped into the chairs set out for them, Alex announced, “I’m famished!”
The duchess reached for a nearby teapot and poured her daughter a cup of tea while continuing to list the tasks she needed to complete prior to the arrival of several early guests that afternoon. “I’m still not entirely sure how to arrange all the rooms—I thought I had it all complete, then realized that I placed Lady Twizzleton and Lord Vauxwell in adjoining rooms. That won’t do.” She placed two biscuits on the saucer and passed the makeshift breakfast to her youngest child.
“Why can’t you just move one of them to an unused room?” Will queried.
“My dear boy, there aren’t any unused rooms.”
“Mother!” Alex exclaimed around a mouth filled with biscuit. “Whatever do you mean, there aren’t any rooms? There are twenty-three bedchambers in this house.”
“Twenty-four, actually. It seems the party has grown in size.”
“It certainly has! How many young, eligible men did you invite?” Alex’s exasperation showed.
“Not as many as I would have liked,” the duchess replied. Will snickered, only to stop immediately when she explained, “I had to invite eligible young ladies as well…and their parents, of course.”
Alex smiled sweetly at her brother. “Of course. Ah, sweet justice. You have to deal with girls and mothers.”
Will scowled. “At least I’m not the only eligible male in attendance.”
“To that end, where are Nick and Kit and Blackmoor?” Alex queried, attempting to sound casual.
