The Viscount Takes a Bride: A Steamy Regency Romance, page 15
Seth walked into the room just then, and the air quickly grew tense. Andrew received his greeting coolly which reminded Margaret that she might have to work to convince him that they were doing the right thing by having the private eye meet Seth and help him.
“Good morning, darling,” Seth said as he kissed her hand, and a sweet warmth spread through her. After telling her the truth the night before, he had held her and comforted her. She learned at that moment that he cared for her, and she was now willing to allow him closer to her. “I trust you slept well.” He sat in the chair closest to her.
“Quite well,” she murmured.
Andrew’s expression remained unwelcoming although he stole glances at Lily now and then, and as soon as he had finished his meal, he excused himself. Lily left to return to the dower house, and Margaret and Seth were left to conclude their meal alone.
“It will not be easy to convince him of our plan,” she told him.
“I know that,” Seth said with a slight frown, “and I am prepared for him to spit fire at me.”
“He will not spit fire at you,” Margaret chuckled.
“Are you certain?” he raised one eyebrow in amusement.
“His behavior toward you is proportional to my opinion of you.” She placed a hand on his arm, her breath ceasing when she felt his muscles tense beneath her fingers. In response, her heart beat a little faster, and her mouth dried.
“And has your opinion of me changed?” Seth asked, his mouth curving wickedly.
“You ask me a question you already know the answer to,” she laughed, sounding breathless.
Seth leaned toward her and said in a low and deep voice, “I want to hear you say it.” His lips touched her earlobe, and a shiver ran down her spine. “Tell me what you truly think.”
Margaret turned to look at him, and their faces were so close that she only needed to move an inch to kiss him. Every nerve in her body told her to kiss him, but she held back. He was taunting her, seducing her, so he could claim victory for making her succumb to him as he promised he would. Such pride he has!
“What I think is I need to speak to Andrew alone before we meet Mr. Sawyer.” She and Seth had written to the detective that morning, asking him to come to the manor, and he was due to arrive in an hour.
Seth laughed and pulled away. “Very well. Go and speak to him, and I will be in my study.”
Margaret left, and she found her brother in one of the drawing rooms. To her surprise, he was holding a plate with a small square cake and crumbs of what was left of the other. “Was breakfast not to your liking?” she asked as she walked toward the sofa he was seated on.
He smiled. “I wanted some cake before I went for a very long walk. Mama always told me that cakes are not healthy if had in the mornings, but I found walks to be very effective in keeping any pouch that might result away.”
Margaret sat beside him. “Then my timing is good. I wanted to speak with you.”
Andrew set the plate down and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Are you going to tell me the reason you decided against meeting Mr. Sawyer last night?”
She took a breath before responding. “Yes. I wanted us to investigate my husband because I did not trust him, but much has changed now.”
Her brother’s expression hardened. “Yes, I saw how loving the two of you were this morning, and—”
“Andrew, listen to me, please. He told me what happened the night Simon died.”
“And you decided to believe him? He could have lied to you—”
Margaret had to cut him off again. “No, he could not have. My husband has nothing to gain by lying to us. He did not commit the crime we accused him of.” She relayed the story to him, and although he still looked skeptical, he did not argue with her, and she appreciated it.
“So, you want me to send Sawyer away?” Andrew asked when she had finished.
“No, I want Mr. Sawyer to help Seth’s investigation. We have invited him to the manor, and he should be here soon.”
Andrew’s frown deepened. “I hope you are not making a mistake, Ret.”
Her voice of doubt awakened on hearing that, and she hoped the trust she was placing in her husband was right. It has to be, she decided. Seth will not deceive me.
A knock on the doorframe raised her head, and she saw Marple’s soft smile. “Mr. Sawyer has arrived, My Lady,” he announced.
“Thank you, Marple. Send him in, and find His Lordship if you would be so kind.”
“At once, My Lady.”
Mr. Sawyer walked in shortly. He was a gaunt middle-aged man with sharp gray eyes that Margaret thought suited his profession. Seth joined them, closing the drawing-room door firmly. They told him about Simon and what happened the night he died while Mr. Sawyer scribbled with a pencil in a small book.
Andrew seemed to incline toward belief when he heard the story from Seth, including information about the races and Mr. Olsen giving his horse opium and causing Seth and Simon to lose their wagers. Margaret learned something she had not known earlier about one of the murderers bearing a scar, and his sister had been found, who told Seth’s investigator, Mr. Montcroix, that her brother’s business associate had killed him. Nothing made any sense, but she hoped that with two skilled men, they would find something.
“A long time has passed, My Lord,” Sawyer said after hearing everything. “We might not discover much.”
“I understand that,” Seth said, “but the quest for the truth should be never-ending.”
“Indeed, My Lord.” Sawyer tucked his book and pencil into his coat pocket. “I will begin my search in the village.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sawyer,” Seth said, rising to show him out.
Andrew gained his feet after Seth, and Mr. Sawyer had left the room. “I will take that walk now.”
Margaret could see how disquieted he was by this conversation, and she allowed him to go. She remained in the drawing room and sent for the housekeeper, Mrs. Gates, so that they could go over the household accounts together.
Two hours later, long after she had finished with Mrs. Gates and was quietly embroidering, Miss Roberts entered the drawing room and curtsied.
“Good day, My Lady,” she greeted, and after Margaret’s acknowledgment, she asked, “Have you seen Miss Hills, My Lady?”
Margaret scowled. “I thought she was in the dower house.”
“Miss Hills did not return to the dower house after leaving this morning,” Miss Roberts explained. “She is supposed to have her measurements taken at the modiste’s in the afternoon, and I came to get her so we could depart for the village.”
Margaret grew worried, and she stepped out of the drawing-room, asking the first footman she found if he had seen Lily. He responded that he had not, and after asking three more servants, who all had not the slightest inkling of where she was, Margaret grew panicked.
Miss Roberts decided to search the kitchens while Margaret asked Marple to have more footmen search the house. On her way upstairs, she saw a maid descending and decided to question her.
“I saw her in the conservatory an hour ago with Lord Fersbury,” the maid replied, and that eased some of Margaret’s fears.
“And have you seen any of them since?”
“I believe I heard His Lordship’s voice coming from the rose salon on the second floor, My Lady.”
Where one is, the other is certain to follow, Margaret thought, gathering her skirts and ascending the steps as fast as she could. She wanted to be sure that Lily was in the manor and safe.
It was odd for her sister-in-law to claim that she was going back home then go somewhere else. Margaret could not understand Lily’s reason, and what puzzled her further was the fact that Lily had never been dishonest.
She heard a giggle when she reached the door of the salon, and sighing with relief, she opened the door and walked in. The sight that greeted her froze her in place, however, for she found her brother and Lily in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lily and Andrew jumped apart with her brother scrambling to his feet and straightening his coat. Intensely guilty looks passed over their faces, and Lily blushed with embarrassment.
Margaret wanted to pretend that what she had seen could be dismissed, but she could not. She had found them kissing and shuddered to think of what would have occurred had someone else found them. “Lily, Miss Roberts is looking for you,” she said, glad her voice sounded as even as it was supposed to, considering what she had walked into. “You are to go to the modiste’s shop this afternoon.”
“Y-yes,” Lily stammered and walked forward. She stopped near Margaret as though she wanted to say something to her, but instead she bowed her head and hurried out.
Margaret closed the door and turned to her brother, sure the displeasure she was feeling was visible in her countenance. “Tell me I saw wrong, Andrew.” He awkwardly ran his palm over the back of his head, refusing to meet her gaze. “Andrew?”
He colored up and mumbled something incoherent in response which irritated her nerves. His expression would have amused her under different circumstances.
“You need to speak louder because I am having trouble understanding you,” she said sternly.
“You did not see wrong,” he muttered then cleared his throat and endeavored to look older and more mature which he failed at because he had behaved like a child a moment ago.
“I understand that you are growing fond of Lily—”
“I am not growing fond of her,” he defended quickly, and Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh? Then what were you doing with her?”
“She is a sweet and interesting girl, and her company is delightful.”
Margaret would have cursed if she were in the habit of doing so, but she took a long breath to calm herself down before she spoke. “Do you understand that what you did with her could tarnish her reputation? She is fifteen and old enough to be ruined.”
His eyes widened in alarm, and it was as she had guessed. He did not know the implication of his actions, and she could not be more relieved that she had found them and no one else.
“Andrew, sit down,” she said. When he did, she sat beside him. “A man does not simply find the company of a woman interesting. Imagine if my husband found you instead of me."
“He would doubtless kill me,” Andrew chuckled, and she slapped his arm. It was a quip, but it was inappropriate.
“Why must you be stupid in a situation that demands seriousness?”
That question had him looking remorseful. “I did not mean to kiss Lily. It happened.” He shrugged, his cheeks coloring. “I did not stop it.”
“We live in a manor full of servants, and I will tell you that the Dowager Viscountess has her eyes on us. If she ever discovers this, there will be trouble. Do you understand?”
Andrew nodded and sighed. “I understand. I will keep away from Lily.”
Margaret could see that he was very fond of Lily and taking his hand, she said, “You may court her, but you should not touch her.”
His jaw tightened, and his mien seemed to darken. “Will your husband allow me to court her?”
She thought about that for a moment. This could be an opportunity for their families to reconcile. “Well,” she began carefully, “he is her brother and guardian. If you wish to court her, then you must earn his approbation.” When he rolled his eyes, she poked his arm. “You cannot hope to marry Lily without his consent.”
“Very well.”
She smiled. “I thought you were going for a long walk.”
A sheepish grin overtook his features. “I was going to until I saw Lily in the conservatory.”
Again, Margaret thought about the reason Lily lied about going to the dower house.
Lily did not join them for dinner that night, and neither did she come for breakfast the next morning. Margaret was in the drawing room the following day when Marple appeared, telling her that the Dowager had requested her presence in the dower house.
“Is something the matter?” Margaret asked him.
“I cannot say, My Lady,” he responded.
She set down her embroidery and asked Miss Elm to fetch her bonnet and shawl. Then Seth walked into the room. “I came to fetch you,” he said with a deep frown.
“To answer your mother’s summons?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you know why she requested to see us?” Margaret was certain no one knew about what happened the day before besides the three of them, and to protect both Lily and Andrew, she had refused to tell Seth.
“No,” he replied curtly, but then he shook his head. “Forgive me, Margaret, I am not happy with the interruption.” He held his arm out to her.
“Oh, of course.” She placed a hand on his elbow and allowed him to lead her out of the room. Miss Elm met them in the front hall with Margaret’s shawl and bonnet, and to her surprise, Seth offered to tie the ribbons of the bonnet for her.
He smiled down at her as he made a neat bow then he playfully brushed her chin with his finger before ushering her out of the manor. A moment later, they arrived at the dower house and were shown to the Dowager’s study.
Margaret braced herself for a storm the instant she saw how dark the woman’s expression was. Seth stood partly in front of her as if to shield her from his mother. She found the gesture most endearing, and she leaned slightly against him.
“You called us, Mother,” he said when the Dowager did not say anything after they had greeted her.
“I refuse to believe that you are not aware of the reason I called both of you here,” she said, looking them over with disapproval.
“Mother, we would greatly appreciate it if you stopped giving us riddles and told us why we are here?”
The Dowager stood and braced her hands on her desk, her stance challenging. “Lilian and,” she turned to Margaret, “your brother have been seen without a chaperone several times in the manor.” Margaret tensed. “Yesterday, they spent a very long while alone in the rose salon until they were found by Margaret.”
Oh, I am Margaret today? She did not have time to dwell upon the change in address before the Dowager continued her tirade.
“If the servants could inform me of such happenings, then surely, they are whispering between themselves.”
“The servants informed you because you tasked them with it,” Seth lashed. Margaret could see that he was very displeased, but she did not know what angered him more, his mother having the servants watch them or Lily and Andrew being alone. “They likely would not have noticed anything had you not appointed them to watch the happenings in the manor for you.”
“Then you do not know what servants are capable of, Saxton,” the Dowager said before she turned her sharp gaze at Margaret. “Your brother wants to ruin my daughter.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What manner of accusation is this, Mother?”
“It is not an accusation but the truth. Why else would he allow them to be without a chaperone.” She jabbed a finger in Margaret’s direction. “How could you allow it?”
“Oh, come now, Mother, they are very young,” Seth interjected.
“No! They are old enough to cause a scandal!” the Dowager cried. “At fifteen, Lily can be married! It is detestable enough that you had to marry one of them, Saxton, but I refuse to allow it to happen a second time!”
Margaret’s hand slipped from his arm, and she stepped away, raising her chin. “Forgive me, Seth,” she muttered to him then, “My Lady, you may say whatever you want, but you cannot undermine me as Lord Saxton’s wife.” She used Seth’s title deliberately, and she allowed herself a small satisfied smile when the Dowager’s hand moved up to her chest as though she had been shot there. “He married me, and that will never change.”
Seth’s hand found hers, and he held it tightly. “I hope you are pleased with yourself, Mother.” He gently drew Margaret toward the door. His protectiveness made something tender unfold in her heart.
“Is this how you will speak to your mother?” the Dowager called after them.
“Good day, Mother,” Seth replied over his shoulder before leading Margaret out of the room. “I apologize for that,” he said to her once they were out of the house.
“You do not have to apologize on her behalf,” she replied. “She is right, however, that Lily and Andrew have been spending time alone.”
“I know that.” Instead of walking in the direction of the manor, Seth steered her toward the woods. They had never taken a walk together, and this would have been romantic if their family was not the subject of their conversation and the reason for their worries.
