Lord Melvedere's Ghost (11 page)

“
We are all arranged for today, ma’am, but it is kind of you to
make the offer. I am sure the master will have a few things for you
to do.” Mrs Nantwich’s tone was somewhat vague and cautious, making
Cecily frown in consternation.

There
was something about the atmosphere in the kitchen that changed into
something indefinably awkward. She thought over the conversation
and felt her blood run cold. Did they consider her to be one of the
master’s ‘ladies’? There to serve a purpose before being returned
to wherever she came from? She glanced at Potter who had returned
to polishing his boot with too much careful consideration, to
Sophie who was industriously chopping vegetables that had already
been chopped.

She took
a breath to correct their presumption when a small bell above the
doorway jingled alarmingly. Potter glanced up and
sighed.

“
I’ll go,” Doreen muttered, disappearing out of the kitchen as
quickly as her feet could carry her. Cecily glanced backward,
unsure if she should go after Doreen or remain in the kitchens to
correct them this misinterpretation as to what kind of ‘guest’ she
really was.

“
I’ll go and take a walk outside, I think,” Cecily sighed
miserably. She wasn’t going to be in the house long enough for
their opinion of her to matter but, for some reason, it did matter
what these people thought of her, only she didn’t know
why.

She
wasn’t sure how to address their misapprehension other than to
raise it with Jamie and request that he set them straight at the
earliest opportunity. But, would that only make matters
worse?

Her
thoughts turned to Jamie. While he had undoubtedly kept her out of
the French guards’ clutches, he had ostensibly abandoned her to her
own devices, clearly suffering her presence rather than being
willing to engage in it. While a part of her was pleased that there
had been no awkward advances, she grew increasingly uneasy about
the real reasons he had so surprisingly offered for her hand all
those weeks ago. She had no doubt now that he had other reasons for
wanting access to her home, or rather her father’s study, and it
had more to do with the French spies, and the Star Elite than her,
but it just didn’t make sense that he would make an offer for her
and run the risk of it being accepted. Unless he had no intention
of ever going through with the offer in the first place and that
could only leave her with one conclusion to make.

She had
been used as a pawn.

But that
didn’t explain why he had chosen to bring her here, to Melvedere,
his home.

A small
part of her couldn’t help but feel cheated a little at his
half-hearted proposal, and she was grateful for her father for
being bullish enough to throw him out on his ear. It had been about
the only decent thing her sire had ever done for her.

But that
led her to another question. What had her father been involved in
that had caused the Star Elite to consider him worthy of
investigating? Was she under suspicion? Is that why Jamie had
brought her to this house in the middle of nowhere? Was she being
kept under a sort of unofficial house arrest?

Her
thoughts whirled in a kaleidoscope of confusion, to the point that
she wasn’t sure what to think of anything anymore. She bent down
and brushed her hands along Basil’s back as he padded toward her,
and smiled at him as he turned to follow her.

“
Coming with me?” She murmured, patting his head as she headed
toward the corner of the house that had held a conservatory. It was
closest to the rolling lawns, and the only room she could really
recognise from the outside. Although they hadn’t used it last
night, it had a long row of glass doors that led out into the
gardens; perfect to use as a temporary escape.

Outside
the air was crisp and inviting. The gentle waft of roses assailed
her nostrils as she meandered through the scattered flowers toward
the vast expanse of lawn that stretched to the edge of the large
woods.

Half way
across the lawn, Cecily felt a prickling sensation between her
shoulder blades and paused, staring down at her feet in
consideration. Should she turn around and see if anyone was
watching? If she was being placed under house arrest, it was
inevitable that someone would watch her. What would she do if she
saw someone, wave unconcernedly or ignore them? Deciding she didn’t
really care, her thoughts turned toward the events in the kitchen.
Clearly the staff didn’t have any idea of Jamie’s chosen career
path, or maybe they did. Maybe Jamie always brought a lady home
while he ‘rested’.

She
glanced up at the trees now lying several feet away and froze when
the memory of her conversation with Doreen, and Jamie, this morning
came back to her. Mrs Nantwich was supposed to be going into town
for a change of clothing for her, yet there had been no mention of
the new items. Sighing she glanced down at her smudged and slightly
smelly clothing, and wondered if she was going to be confined to
her room now too. After all, she could hardly sit at the dining
table looking like a vagabond, fresh from a farmyard. She could
hardly pressure Jamie into purchasing her clothing and as she
hadn’t any money to buy anything, nor was likely to be able to get
hold of any soon to pay him back. There was little she could do. It
wasn’t lost on her that right at that moment she was completely
reliant upon Jamie’s generosity for food and a roof over her head
and, as a result, she was indeed a prisoner, albeit one of her own
making.

Her
thoughts turned briefly to the small pouch of meagre belongings
Jamie had taken from her when she had parted company with Portia,
and she made a mental note to ask him about them later.

As she
ambled across the grass, her thoughts turned to her current
predicament. She could of course, return home to her father, but
that would mean she would have to report what had happened to both
herself and Portia, while admitting that Portia was still in the
presence of an unnamed gentleman, going heaven knew where, being
chased by French spies. She couldn’t write a book about it, the
story was too fantastic. Even if her father did believe her, she
was effectively ruined. Both of them were. Her father would make
her life a misery.

She
watched Basil sniff around in the undergrowth as he followed the
meandering path through the woods, and followed him along the well
trodden path. A few minutes later she heard the faint trickling of
flowing water and sighed with delight when she caught sight of a
small stream haphazardly jostling through a row of tumbled stones.
It wasn’t very big, but the water was clear and crisp. Perching
precariously upon a rock at the very edge of the water, she dropped
her chin onto her knees and thought back to the events of the
afternoon when she had last sat beside such a stream with Portia.
She wasn’t sure if she would ever make sense of what had happened
to them, or why. In order to make sense of it, she had to ask Jamie
and Jonathan, but they were sequestered in the study with strict
instructions that they weren’t to be disturbed. What would happen
when they came out heaven only knew, but Cecily realised that she
had to make a few decisions of her own.

At some
point they would decide it was going to be safe to leave. What
would happen then? Where could she go? She had no real relations
she could call upon who would willingly provide a home. Their aunt,
although kindly in nature, hated their father and was relatively
unknown to them. Given the dangers of the past few days, it wasn’t
fair to bring such troubles to her aunt’s doorstep. By turning up
unannounced and uninvited, with such trouble lurking behind her,
she would inevitably find herself cast out into the cold
again.

There
was really only one option open to her. The possibility of
returning home was immediately dismissed and ignored as improbable.
Even if her father had been up to nothing and had been investigated
merely because he was a businessman in Tissington, she had no
intention of ever being forced into marriage to an old man twice
her age, or resuming her life of servitude for her father. Portia
was heaven knew where and, if Archie’s dedication was as determined
as it appeared, her sister’s future had already been decided upon.
She couldn’t prevail upon Portia and Archie as
newlyweds.

Feeling
more alone than ever, Cecily sat staring morosely down into the
stream, watching the water tumble gently past her booted feet.
Basil flopped down beside her panting heavily, but seemingly
content to simply go to sleep again.

“
I have been looking for you.”

The
deep, husky baritone coming from somewhere behind her made Cecily
jump, and she whirled around with a squeak of surprise.

Jamie
was standing nonchalantly leaning against the tree directly behind
her.

“
I didn’t hear you.”

“
You were lost in thought,” Jamie murmured, glancing down at
Basil in disgust. “Not much of a guard dog, is he?”

“
He is lovely,” Cecily defended, sitting back on the rock in an
attempt to ignore him. She was dirty, unkempt and miserable, while
he was clean-shaven, freshly bathed and dressed to perfection.
Jamie was clearly a man who was very much in control of his life
and his estate, and knew it. His boots alone probably cost more
than her father made in an entire year. The difference between them
was so markedly profound that Cecily wished she was somewhere else,
with anyone else, and knew then what she had to do.

Tipping
her chin upright, she turned to look at him when he came to sit on
another stone a few feet away.

“
How long am I going to be confined here?”

“
Confined?” Jamie scoffed, glancing at her in shock. “You are
not under house arrest.”

“
Am I not?” One elegant brow arched in silent query. “Why does
it feel as though I am?”

“
I am sorry if the staff have not looked after you very well. I
will have a word with them.”

“
They think I am your mistress of the week.”

Stilted
silence settled around them. Cecily immediately regretted her
outburst. The physical differences between them were enough to
discredit her last statement, even if she could ignore the shocked
look on his face.

“
Who said that to you?”

“
Does it matter? You and I both know it is ridiculous, but the
staff seemed to think I am here as more than a guest.”

Jamie
lapsed into thoughtful silence. In reality, she was there as more
than a guest, but he had no idea how the staff had picked up on his
intentions given he had never discussed them with anyone. Did they
really think he had brought her here to be his mistress? For the
week, was it? Turning toward her in consternation, he studied the
discomfort on her face and immediately regretted spending most of
the day locked in the study, making plans with Jonathan. He should
have spent a bit of time with her, or even shown her around the
house himself. But his work with the Star Elite was at a critical
stage, and he couldn’t ignore the possible criminal activities of
her father. The sooner everything was brought to a conclusion, the
quicker everyone could get on with their lives, and England would
be one step closer to becoming a safer place.

Still,
it appeared he had gotten off on the wrong foot with Cecily, and he
was at a loss to know how to put it right.

“
You haven’t answered me,” Cecily chided him after several
moments of silence. “How long am I going to be here?”

“
For as long as you need to be, Cecily,” Jamie replied. “Why,
do you need to be somewhere important?”

“
I just cannot remain here relying on your hospitality. Portia
is out there being subjected to heaven knows what, and I need to
give some thought as to what I am going to do. I cannot make plans
for my future if I do not know how long I am being held
here.”

“
Let me set you straight. You are being ‘held’ here, as you put
it, purely for your own safety. You saw those French guards. You
heard them firing at us. They weren’t doing that for the fun of it.
They were deadly serious, and had followed us for miles for the
opportunity. These are determined people, Cecily, and we cannot
underestimate their determination. Melvedere is about the safest
place I could think of where you are guaranteed total isolation. I
need to be here to regroup and decide what to do next.”

“
Is that why you followed me here?” She waved one arm around
the woods. She had no doubt he had come after her by the careful
look he gave her.

“
I have to protect you,” he muttered, turning his back toward
her to stare down at the stream. “It is my job.”

Cecily stared at him feeling crestfallen, and knew then that
everything he had done in her life had been purely because to his
job.
Of course there had been no
affection
, she chided herself. There was no
earthly reason why someone like him would offer for someone like
her unless driven by alternative purposes. The only reason she
could come up with for his proposal was that he had needed to get
into her father’s house, and had used her as an excuse to do
it.

A part
of her hated him for his callous disregard of her feelings. For
approaching her at the ball, and using his smooth and debonair ways
to verbally seduce her into thinking he was something he
wasn’t.