Never Turn Away (Kellington Book Six) (6 page)

Lady Evelyn could not possibly marry that bumpkin
Kensington.  While he did not think she would be in any danger from the man –
other than possibly dying from boredom – the match was so lopsided, he wondered
about the men Evelyn had actually rejected.  Lady Evelyn.  He had to think of
her as Lady Evelyn.  No good could come of thinking of her as anything else. 

As he approached the house, Mr. Keegan held the door
open for him.  “Welcome home, Inspector.  Did you have a pleasant day?”

“Thank you, Mr. Keegan, I did.  The weather was
brisk but….”  He looked up at the portrait of the duke and duchess.  He
couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was slightly different, almost as
if they were sitting closer together than before.  Perhaps it was a trick of
the afternoon light.

“Inspector?  Is everything all right?”

“Yes, it’s just…never mind.  What time will dinner
be ready?”

“As soon as you like it, sir.  We tend to eat fairly
early here, but Cook can serve you any time you wish.”

“What time will the staff be eating?”

“The staff, sir?”

“Yes, Mr. Keegan.  If it would not upset the routine
terribly much, I should like to dine with all of you.  I eat too many meals
alone.  I would be glad for the company.”  It would also give him the chance to
learn more about Lady Evelyn.

“But you are his grace’s guest, Inspector.”

“I am also a man quite unused to the privileges of
the peerage.  Please.”

Mr. Keegan shook his head, smiling.  “As you wish,
Inspector, but it won’t be fancy.”

What the meal might have lacked in the opulence of
ducal china, it certainly made up for in warmth.  In addition to Mr. and Mrs.
Keegan, they were joined by Logan the underbutler, Oates the maid and Martha,
the cook.  The grooms had the night off and were at the tavern in town.

It was readily apparent that the servants were
utterly devoted to the Kellington family and that Logan and Oates were as much
in love with each other as the Keegans were.  Martha had grown up in Caversham
and was widowed some twenty years.  She and the Keegans had worked for the late
duke and duchess.

“A more devoted couple you could not find,” said
Martha.  “Very much in love.  It was a tragedy to lose them so young, but it would
have been so difficult to have one survive without the other.”

“I don’t think they could have done it,” said Mrs.
Keegan.  “The other would have died of a broken heart.  I believe they’ve
looked after the young duke and the others from heaven.  Sometimes you can even
feel their presence.”

“About that,” said Stapleton.  “There is something
quite extraordinary about the portrait.”

“We were pleased to hear you commented on the duke
and duchess,” said Oates.  “Not many do.”

“It is a very interesting composition.  Why, just
this afternoon I could have sworn…”

“Would you like some more wine, Inspector?” asked
Mr. Keegan.  “His grace keeps an excellent wine cellar and instructs us to use
enough so none goes bad.  He’s such a good master.”

“He always has been,” said Mrs. Keegan.  “Even as a
young lad.  All the children were, though Master Hal was certainly a scamp. 
Did he ever outgrow his boisterousness, Inspector?  I certainly hope not.”

“Please call me Joseph.  And Hal retained a certain ‘boisterousness’
until recently.  But now that he is married, I believe he will be more sedate.” 
That was the most polite way he could think of to describe the former rake’s
behavior.

“What will you do to help Lady Evelyn find a good
husband?” asked Mrs. Keegan.

“Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss Lady
Evelyn’s concerns.  But I would like to know about the portrait…”

“Everyone knows about the late earl’s will,” said
Logan.  “As well as the current earl’s efforts to steal the land from Lady
Evelyn.  It’s a shameful thing, it is.  The old earl would not want any part of
it.”

“He would be most upset to think of his tenants
being displaced, ‘tis true,” said Oates.  “And I think it’s horrible making
poor Lady Evelyn marry in such a short amount of time, especially since there’s
not a man good enough for her, if I do say so.”

“She is well liked in the county?” asked Stapleton.

“All but worshipped,” said Logan.  “She is most
generous with her tenants and lends a hand to even those who don’t live on her
land.  She and the Duke of Lynwood pay for most services in the county.  They
make sure the church roof never leaks, they forgive rents when the harvest is
poor and they provide a surgeon to anyone who needs one, regardless of whether
they can pay.”

“On more than one occasion, we’ve found her taking
on more than her share of the expenses,” said Mr. Keegan.  “We made sure to
tell the duke and he always provided the necessary payment.”

“She wasn’t too pleased the last time you did that,”
said Mrs. Keegan.  “She feels that since the duke doesn’t live here, he
shouldn’t have to pay as much.  But that’s certainly not how his grace sees
it.  If Lady Evelyn has a fault, and you’d have to search to find one, it’s
that she can be too independent.  What she needs is a good man to take care of
her.  Do you have any suggestions on that front, Inspector?”

“Joseph, please.  I did accompany Lady Evelyn today
when she went riding with Mr. Kensington.”

“You mean that popinjay?” asked Mrs. Keegan.  “I
would have thought he’d have given up the chase long ago, especially now that
Viscount Smithton and Professor Dodson are in the running, as well.”

“What did you think of Mr. Kensington, Joseph?”
asked Logan. 

“I do not know him well enough to make an informed
judgment.”

“But I reckon you made a decision on whether or not
he was good enough for Lady Evelyn,” said Mr. Keegan, his keen gaze upon him.

Joseph was adept at hiding his emotions and
intentions.  He had to be for his job.  But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be
able to hide his thoughts about Lady Evelyn from this group of people.  He
sighed.  “No, I did not think he was good enough for Lady Evelyn, though I have
nothing to base that on, other than just a general feeling.”

“A person can tell a lot about a man, just by how
they feel about him,” said Oates, with a glance at Logan. 

Joseph didn’t miss her accompanying blush.  “Is
there a reason Lady Evelyn should avoid a marriage with Kensington?”

“None that we know of,” said Logan.  “I do think
she’d be better suited with the viscount or the professor, though we don’t know
either of them well.”

Mrs. Keegan snorted delicately.  “From what I heard,
the viscount would rather talk about crop rotation than poetry or some other romantic
thing to win Lady Evelyn’s affections.  And the professor just likes to hear
himself talk about anything.”

Joseph thought about both men he would meet in the
next few days.  “Well, Lady Evelyn does run her estate.  Perhaps she would like
to discuss crops.”

“No lady wants to hear about fertilizer instead of
poetry,” scoffed Mrs. Keegan.

“And you can trust Mrs. Keegan on what women want,”
said her husband.

Joseph continued.  “What about the professor?  Given
Lady Evelyn’s love of reading, I would think they could be a good match.”  And
it gave him an unwelcome stab of jealousy to think of it, despite never having
met the man.

Mrs. Keegan shook her head vigorously.  “She may
love to read, but what Lady Evelyn needs is a real man to share her burden,
then give her a good bedding.”  She turned to the shocked faces around her.  “I
did not say aught but the truth.  How do you think Mr. Keegan and I have had
such a long and happy marriage?”

The others were too scared to guess.

Mr. Keegan patted his wife’s hand.  “There, there my
love.  Perhaps we should leave the young people.  It is time for us to retire.” 
He slowly rose from the table, then helped his wife to her feet.  No one in the
room could miss the obvious love and affection between them.

Oates and Martha rose to clear the table, leaving
Joseph with Logan.  “You don’t think the Keegans still, well, exercise their
marital rights?” asked Joseph.

Logan’s answer was a grin.  “Trust me.  They do.”

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Joseph arrived at Lady Evelyn’s estate the next
morning shortly before eleven of the clock, he learned Viscount Smithton had
already arrived and was inside the manor.  As Joseph left Rocinante with a
groom, he looked at the sleigh that was waiting.  It was to be pulled by two matched
greys, with a coachman to do the driving.  The backseat of the sleigh was wide
enough to accommodate four, complete with ornately carved wood and tufted
leather seats. 

Stapleton had never seen the like of it.  Of course,
London was hardly the place for such a conveyance but he had to acknowledge that
it was yet another difference between him and Lady Evelyn – as if the gap in
their stations had not already been wide enough.  She was used to a life in the
country where a sleigh ride was common.  He was used to life in the crowded
city, where just walking across a busy street could sometimes take a quarter of
an hour.

The doors to the manor opened and Viscount Smithton
emerged, with Lady Evelyn on his arm.  Smithton was well over six feet tall
with blond hair and blue eyes.  Unlike Kensington, he had not a spare ounce of
fat on him.  He was laughing at something Lady Evelyn had just said.  His
response made her laugh in return.

Joseph took an unfair and immediate dislike to the
man. 

Lady Evelyn smiled at him.  “Inspector Stapleton,
thank you for joining us today.  Geoffrey Albemarle, Viscount Smithton, may I
present Inspector Joseph Stapleton, the gentleman I told you about.”

“Pleased to meet you, Inspector,” said Smithton,
with an easy smile.  He held out his hand, which Joseph shook with civility.

More or less.

Smithton continued.  “I have brought nuncheon and
there should be enough for all three of us, especially since Lady Evelyn eats
like a bird.”

Joseph nudged away the irritation that Smithton
should be familiar with Lady Evelyn’s dietary habits.  He hoped she wasn’t the
type of lady who was foolish enough to eat too little in an attempt to attract
a man.  He let his eyes roam over her figure.  Her cheeks were neither sallow
nor plump.  The long line of her neck led to the graceful curve of her
shoulders.  Her nicely rounded bosom…

It was a good thing Smithton was occupied
instructing his driver, for he did not notice Lady Evelyn neatly catching
Joseph’s perusal of her form.  Her lips almost smiled but did not quite.  But
her eyes were filled with amusement.  Joseph coughed and looked away.

“Are you unwell, Inspector?” she asked.

“No, I am in good health, thank you.”

“Are you certain?  For a moment, it appeared as if
you lost focus.  Your eyes drifted and I thought you might have the headache.”

“Thank you, my lady.  But I am quite well.”  The
minx was teasing him, which made him want to rake her slowly with his eyes and
let her feel every inch of it.  But the damned viscount was finished with his
driver.

“Shall we depart, my lady?” Smithton helped Evelyn
into the sleigh, taking his seat on the other side of her, while Joseph sat
next to her on the near end.  Smithton pulled the lap robe up, tucking it
around Evelyn.  She unfolded it, offering some to both men, briefly touching
Joseph’s thigh as she did so.

Joseph was glad the robe covered his rather intense
reaction.

As the sleigh began to glide across the snow,
Smithton breathed deeply of the crisp country air.   “Welcome to Oxfordshire,
Inspector.  I imagine it’s not quite what you are used to in London.”

“I must say that winter in the country is a good
deal more attractive than in the city.  The snow loses some of its luster when
mixed with the grime of London.”

“I do not care for London all that much,” admitted
Smithton.  “Fortunately, my title is but an honorary one.   At some point in
the future when I am the earl, I shall have to spend more time in town as I
take my seat in Parliament.  But for now, I am quite happy at my estate.”

“Where is your land?’ asked Joseph.

“Three miles to the east.  But I often make the trip
into Caversham when there is such good company to be had.”  He smiled at Evelyn
with teeth as white as the country snow.  “Lady Evelyn, have I told you about
my plans to sow a new barley that produces an especially good yield?”

“No, my lord.  I do not believe you have,” she said.

Thus began a half hour lecture on the newest grain
varietal guaranteed to improve harvests.  Smithton was no gentleman farmer who
left the work to his steward.  On the contrary, he felt no detail was too small
for his notice, none too insignificant to discuss at length.  Evelyn asked
intelligent questions, showing an in-depth knowledge of her estate and the
agriculture of the county.  She seemed interested in what Smithton was saying. 
Joseph usually enjoyed learning new things, but he didn’t particularly like
having the viscount as a teacher.  So, he concentrated instead on the
picturesque – yet freezing – scenery and thought about how his left thigh had
somehow found itself pressed against Evelyn’s right one.  And how she hadn’t
moved away.

The spot where Smithton had chosen to take nuncheon
was at the top of a small hill, offering a view of the valley below. The
coachman placed the picnic hamper on the seat opposite them.

Lady Evelyn began to reach for it, until Smithton
stayed her hand. 

“Inspector, what say we work up an appetite before
we eat?”

Joseph wanted to reply that they could just eat,
instead.  But he was polite for Evelyn’s sake.  “What do you suggest?”

“Perhaps a run to the great rock and back?”

Joseph looked to where Smithton was pointing.  He
could see the vague outline of a rock some one hundred yards away. 

“How will we run in the snow?  It must be up to our
knees or deeper.”

“With snow shoes, of course,” said Smithton with
great vigor.  “I always carry two pairs in the boot.  John, do be so good as to
get the snow shoes for us.”

Evelyn cleared her throat.  “It is such a beautiful
day and I have already worked up an appetite.  Perhaps we should all remain
here and eat.”

“But what would be the sport in that?” asked
Smithton with an affable grin before taking a pair of snow shoes from his
coachman, attaching them and leaping out of the sleigh.  He quite merrily
tromped around the sleigh, patting his horses as he did so.

“Do you think it might be possible to leave him
here?” asked Joseph as he rather awkwardly tried to fasten his snow shoes.

“Do not tell me this is not a part of your regular routine,”
Evelyn replied, with eyes dancing.

“Of course it is,” he said, carefully disembarking
from the sleigh. “Each time I must chase a villain in winter, I stop for a
quarter of an hour to put on my snow shoes.  Wouldn’t anyone?”

She laughed.  And once again everything was right
with the world.

Until the exuberant viscount called out to him. 
“Ho, Inspector!”  With that the man was off, hopping across the snow like a
winter hare.  A mad one.

Joseph took a deep breath then went in pursuit,
though his strides were not nearly as smooth as the viscount’s.  Given the
conditioning required for his job, he was in excellent shape.  He was closing
the gap, but the viscount’s head start was too great.  It was a rare peer who
kept himself in good condition, but this one obviously did.  At least Lady
Evelyn would not have to worry about the viscount dying of an infirm heart if
she married him.

The thought gave Joseph little comfort.

“Ho!” said Smithton, as he passed him on the way
back.  “Better shake a leg, Inspector, if you expect to arrive back by nightfall.”

Joseph seriously considered the idea of slowing
Smithton by delivering a densely-packed snowball to his head.  Yet he trudged
on, dutifully touching the rock and beginning the return trip to the sleigh. 
At this point, he began gaining on Smithton, having grown accustomed to the
snow shoes.  Had there been an additional ten yards, he could have caught him. 
But, alas, Smithton reached Lady Evelyn before him.

“It is a good thing there were no villains
threatening Lady Evelyn,” said Smithton with a grin.  “You might want to pick
up the pace next time, Inspector.”

Stapleton once again considered the expediency of
the snowball and this time was not so swift to reject the idea.

Perhaps reading his mind, Lady Evelyn said, “I took
the liberty of making plates for you two.  I imagine a glass of cider would be
most refreshing right now.”

Joseph took his glass gratefully, purposely letting
his fingers brush against Evelyn’s.  Her color heightened and he liked to think
it was not just because of the cold.

Smithton, in the meantime, was expounding on his
daily regime of exercise.  “In the summer, I run through the fields, before
swimming in the lake.  It is most invigorating.  I also keep a few fence posts
on hand to lift in order to keep my muscles in shape.  Do you do anything
similar, Inspector?”

“Unfortunately, there is a dearth of fence posts in
Cheapside, but I do a great deal of walking and running with my job, with some lifting
at night as I work on my house.”

“What are you doing with your house?”  Evelyn asked.

He hadn’t wanted to reveal quite that much about his
life.  He rarely spoke to anyone of his world outside of Bow Street, save for a
few friends.  “It is nothing, really.”

“Yet, I would like to hear it.”

It was one more difference between them, the fact
that he was personally doing much of the work to fix up his three-story home in
Cheapside.  He could afford to have someone do the work, but he chose not to. 
“I have been refurbishing my home.  While I need assistance with some of it, I
enjoy carpentry.  There is something soothing about knowing what task lies
ahead of you, then doing it to completion.  So often in my work at Bow Street,
there is no such closure.”

She was silent for a moment and he was afraid she
did not know what to say to someone working with their hands in such a way.

But then she spoke.  “I can imagine it to be a very
fulfilling experience.  Creating something from start to finish.  Nurturing it
along the way.  I daresay you appreciate it much more when you have toiled to
bring the changes to fruition.”

Just like that, Lady Evelyn summed up his thoughts
on the subject. 

Just like that it was like she’d visited his mind. 

Just like that, Joseph knew it would be impossible
to judge her potential suitors with an unbiased mind when he wanted her so much
for himself.

*                    *                    *

At that moment, the servants of Jasmine Manor were
also sitting down to nuncheon, but without having had to engage in athletics
prior to doing so.

“I have high hopes for our Joseph,” said Mrs.
Keegan.  “From the very first moment when he saw the duke and duchess, I knew
he was a right one.”

Her husband nodded.  “His grace does not trust
others easily.  His closest friends have always been his brothers and sister,
along with the Marquess of Riverton.  We knew right away that if Joseph was his
friend, he was a good man.”

“But how can we ensure that he and Lady Evelyn form
an understanding?” asked Oates.  “I am afraid he’ll oppose the match because he
is not of her class.”

“I don’t think her ladyship would feel that way,”
said Logan.  “From what I hear from her servants…”

“I hope you were not gossiping about his grace’s
guest with her ladyship’s servants,” admonished Mr. Keegan.

“Indeed, that would be most inappropriate,” agreed
his wife.  “What did they say?”

Logan lowered his voice to a whisper.  “They said Lady
Evelyn took special care while dressing yesterday.”

“That is a good sign,” said Oates.  “But perhaps it
was in anticipation of seeing Mr. Kensington, though that is a lowering
thought, indeed.”

“Bah!” said Mrs. Keegan.  “She would not marry the
squire’s son, though his family would dearly love to get their hands on her
estate.  If you ask me, they’re just as likely to sell the land to the mining
company as Lady Evelyn’s scapegrace cousin.  No, she wasn’t making herself look
good for the Kensington lad.  She wanted to impress Joseph.”

“I just wish there was some way we could help her,”
said Oates.

The four servants sipped their tea in silence for a
moment until Logan said “I have an idea.”

*                    *                    *

Joseph rode Rocinante back to Jasmine Manor at a
pace much slower than the stallion would have liked.  But he needed time to
think before arriving at the house.  The sleigh ride back to Evelyn’s hadn’t
been any more interesting than on the way out.  Smithton had droned on and on
about crops and his animals.  The only moment of interest had been when Evelyn
had brought up the subject of sheep wrangling, telling Smithton that Joseph was
a veritable expert at it.  Of course Smithton had taken that opportunity to
challenge him to some sort of sheep wrangling contest, no doubt to be carried
out in the middle of snow up to their chest, followed by an invigorating swim
in a frozen lake.

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