The Charmer (13 page)

"She looks all right,
doesn't she?" Jeffrey said.

"I'm well, Mr. Cowdrey,
thank you. As you can see."

Walter's gaze raked down her
body. A short distance away, Holt crossed his arms. Walter increased the
pressure on her hand. "Yes," he said, coloring a little. "Yes, I
do see. You look...lovely." He licked his lips and cleared his throat. His
grip became almost unbearable.

She tugged her hand and he
released her. "How did you hear about the intruder?" she asked.

"I've been seein' to
personal matters in the village just now and everyone's talkin' about the
intruder at Stoneleigh the night before last." His gaze shifted to Holt.
"Your gardener told Milner and now everyone knows."

"I've already thanked Mr.
Holt for making enquiries on my behalf. He's been most helpful in this
endeavor."

Jeffrey snorted.

"
I
could have made
enquiries," Walter said. "It would be a pleasure and an honor."

His earnestness elicited another
snort from Jeffrey.

"Thank you, Mr. Cowdrey,
that's very kind," Susanna said.

"Next time, come to me.
Understand? No need to involve the gardener."

"Let's hope there is no next
time."

"Yes. Of course we hope
that." Walter cleared his throat again. "The intruder hasn't come
back?"

"No."

"But what about tonight? Then
what?"

It was the same question that
plagued Susanna and her servants. She dared a glance at Holt, but he was
pretending to prune a hawthorn bush. By the way he snipped off the tips and not
entire branches, she knew he wasn't concentrating on his task and was listening
to the conversation instead.

"All the doors and windows
are locked at night," she said. "And perhaps now that everyone in the
village knows of the situation, the intruder won't dare come again."

"That don't sound like a
good plan to me," Walter said, scratching his hair under his hat.
"Think I'll stay tonight. Scare off anyone who might—"

"No!" The thought of
having Walter in the next bedchamber made her skin clammy. "Mr. Cowdrey, please
don't trouble yourself."

"No trouble. I insist."
He gave her a closed mouth smile which was all he ever gave because he didn't
like his crooked teeth.

"No,
I
insist,"
she said. "We are capable of taking care of ourselves at Stoneleigh."

He sniffed then wiped his nose
with the back of his hand. "Your servants are old, Lady Lynden, they won't
be much help."

"I have Mr. Holt."

Both Jeffrey and Walter looked to
Holt at the same moment that he looked at them. Holt's expression remained bland
as if he was completely disinterested.

"The gardener," Walter
said flatly.

"You let him sleep in the
house?" Jeffrey asked.

"Of course."

"Well he don't have to no
more." Walter straightened to his full height. When he didn't stoop, he
was actually quite tall. As tall as Holt, but not nearly as imposing. "Put
him in the barn."

"He can't sleep in the barn,"
she said, "it's not weather tight."

"So?" He flicked dirt
off her shoulder and his eyes softened. "This is why you need to marry
again, Susanna," he murmured so that only she could hear. "You need
protectin'."

"I've told you before, I'm
not ready to remarry."

"But—"

"Gentlemen," Holt said.
He sauntered over, smiling like an amiable, innocent fool. She didn't believe
it for one moment. "No one tried to break in last night," he said.
"I think we're all safe now."

"I'm stayin'," Walter
said.

"No, Mr. Cowdrey, you are
not," Susanna said.

"You don't know what you're
sayin'." Walter went to take her hand again but she folded her arms.
"It's best if I come round and—"

"She said no." Holt's
voice cut through the air like a brutal axe blow.

Walter's nostrils flared and his
top lip curled. "Shouldn't you be doin' somethin' useful instead of wastin'
Lady Lynden's time and money?"

"Mr. Cowdrey, there is no
need for you to stay," Susanna said before Holt poured gunpowder on the
fire. "Now, if you gentlemen don't mind, I have work to do."

Holt and Walter glared at each
other, but it was Jeffrey who made the first move. However it wasn't to
capitulate and leave. "I'm going to search the house," he said, striding
off.

Walter followed him. "I'll
help."

"What!" she bellowed at
their backs.

Jeffrey stopped suddenly and faced
up to Walter who almost slammed into him. "I don't need help, Cowdrey.
Susanna is my cousin, and it is my responsibility to protect her."

"She was your cousin's
wife
,"
Walter said, "and the responsibility for her falls on all of us who care
for her."

"Yes, well, everyone with
eyes can see why
you
care for her." With that, Jeffrey stormed off,
his nose in the air.

Walter trailed behind him like a
small child following his mother.

Holt did not go after the others,
but she knew that she just had to ask and he would do it. His presence buoyed
her.

"Enough!" she shouted. Both
men stopped up ahead. "Leave. I do not like my household being disrupted,
and I do not appreciate you coming here and taking over as if you own
Stoneleigh."

Walter was the first to
capitulate. He trudged back, casting a fierce glare at Holt the entire time.
Jeffrey took longer. He glanced at the house, at her, then Holt, and once more
at the house before sighing.

"We only care about
you," he said.

Walter took her hand again
without warning. "Forgive me, my dear lady. I only wished to help."

"Thank you," she said,
removing her hand. "If I need your help, I'll ask."

He looked somewhat blankly at
her, and, as if her dismissal had finally sunk in, nodded slowly. "I offended
you, m'lady. My apologies." Shoulders stooped, he plodded back to his
horse.

"Wait."

His face brightened.
"Yes?"

"My letters. Are you sure
your man took them to London back in September?"

"Of course. I would have told
you if he hadn't."

"I'm sorry. I'm not doubting
him or you. It's just that I haven't heard from any of the recipients and I
expected to by now."

"P'haps they're not
interested." Walter mounted his horse and pointed his considerable chin at
the walled garden. "P'haps
quince
marmalade is good enough for
them
."
He pulled hard on the reins and rode off. Mud flicked up from the hooves and splattered
her cheek.

Holt came up beside her.
"All right?" he murmured.

She wiped off the mud with her
sleeve and nodded. But she was not all right. She'd offended Walter and he
didn't deserve it. Her constant rejections of his marriage offers must sting,
and now it sounded like she didn't trust him. She would have to make it up to
him somehow.

"What a tiresome man,"
Jeffrey said with a sigh.

"Don’t," Susanna said.
"He doesn't deserve to be mocked."

Jeffrey merely shrugged.
"Since I'm of little use here, I'll bid you good day. But do let me know
if you change your mind about having a
gentleman
present in the house. I
would be happy to stay the night and you know
my
motives are pure."

"I'm well aware what your
motives are, Jeffrey. Thank you."

If he detected her sarcasm, he
didn't show it. He bowed and walked off to his horse but Holt called after him.
Jeffrey stopped and turned, frowning. Susanna, too, frowned. What was he up to?

"Yes?" Jeffrey asked, irritation
dripping from the single word.

"Your stable lad told me you
have spare materials left over from when you built your new barn. Lady Lynden
is in need of some to build a structure around her orange trees."

Silence. Then, "And?"

"Can she have them?"

"Your gardener is bold,
Susanna. I would shorten his leash if I were you, lest he bite."

It took seven beats of her heart
before her anger was under control and she could trust herself to speak
casually to him. "But you are not me, Jeffrey, and I do not treat my
servants like dogs. Mr. Holt is also in a different situation than most in that
I am not paying him. Indeed, he's not really a servant at all since he is doing
me a favor and I him."

Jeffrey gave a short, derisive
laugh.

"Well?" asked Holt.
"Can she have the timber or not? She is your nearest relation after
all."

"How do you know who my
relations are?" Jeffrey snapped.

How indeed?

"Nearest in distance as far
as I know," Holt said.

"That timber cost quite a
lot."

"Not that you would want
your cousin to reimburse you, I'm sure. After all, you are very considerate of
her welfare."

Jeffrey's eyes narrowed and
Susanna thought he might actually walk off without answering, but then, after
much pursing of his lips, he said, "I will give you the timber, Susanna,
if you do something for me in return."

She should have expected Jeffrey would
not simply hand it over. "Go on."

"Let my man Monk help you
build this structure."

Beside her, Holt went very still.
"Why?"

"Why not? It will make your
task easier." Jeffrey grinned, triumphant. Somehow he had just won, but
Susanna didn't know what the contest had been about.

"I thought Mr. Monk was a
man of trade, not a servant," she said.

Jeffrey shrugged. "He's
working for me and will do as I direct. I am offering his services in exchange
for my timber. I think that's fair since the expense is all mine. Don't
you?"

"A moment ago you did not
want to even give me the timber. Why the change of heart?"

He stiffened and blinked in surprise.
"Susanna, my deepest apologies, I thought you understood why. I'm sorry
for my rudeness earlier and I wish to make it up to you, that's all. Please
don't be suspicious of my motives. They are innocent. As poor Phillip's widow,
it's my duty and my honor to care for you. Please accept my offer."

There was not a hint of mocking
in his tone and his face was all seriousness and concern. She felt contrite but
not guilty. "Thank you, Jeffrey, but...do you trust this man Monk? He is
very new to your acquaintance, isn't he?"

"I've known him a long time,"
he said as he moved off. "I'll send him down after dinner. Good day."

"Don't send him today,"
she said. "Mr. Holt has the afternoons off and I'll be heading into the
village. Tomorrow morning will be better."

After a pause, Jeffrey said,
"Very well. Tomorrow morning." He mounted and rode off.

"It must be almost time for
dinner," she said, turning to Holt. She was surprised to see him looking
at her. She thought he'd been watching Jeffrey leave.

He lifted his hand and skimmed
her cheek with his thumb. She felt his touch all the way through to her bones
where a sweet ache set up residence. "You missed a bit of mud," he
said.

"Thank you, Mr. Holt. I
appreciate everything you did today. I wish..."
...that I could kiss
you and touch you and be held by you.
"I wish I could pay you what
you're worth."

His chuckle was low. "There
are some who would say I'm not worth what you're already paying me." His
smile slipped and he looked away.

Who could possibly think this handsome,
active, and friendly man was worthless? She almost asked but didn't. The hard
planes of his face warned her not to pry.

She walked off and beckoned him
to follow. "Help me put the garden tools away. It's time to go inside."

Together they returned to the
walled garden and silently packed the tools in the box. Holt picked it up and
joined her at the archway. "Does Lord Lynden often have visitors to stay?
People he's known before he inherited, I mean."

"Hardly ever. He has some
cousins I believe, but if he has any friends, he's never introduced me to them.
I think Jeffrey is trying to distance himself from his old life as much as
possible."

"To make better, higher
friends, you mean?"

She nodded and they walked to the
barn. "He travels frequently to London where no doubt he tries very hard
to come to the notice of the court."

"Tries and fails, I'd wager.
Someone ought to tell him he's wasting his time. The court aren't likely to
notice someone as slow-witted as Lynden"

"Really?" And how did
he know that?

He lengthened his strides. "So
I assume."

She waited for him while he
carried the box of tools into the barn. When he rejoined her, they headed for
the kitchen garden. "I'm driving into Sutton Grange later," she said.
"There'll be room in the cart if you want to come."

"No, thank you. It's a nice
day. I think I'll go for a walk."

She looked up at the sky. It was
gray and threatened rain.

***

The rain held off until Susanna
reached the Sutton Grange chandler's shop. She could have sent Bessie to the
village on her own but the maid didn't like driving the cart and Susanna wanted
to greet some of her friends anyway. She'd had little opportunity to go into
the village lately and missed them. With Holt helping in the garden, her
workload had eased. She still couldn't believe he was going to build a more
stable structure to protect her orange trees. Getting the timber for it, plus
an extra pair of hands to help, was quite a triumph. She didn't think Jeffrey
would acquiesce but he had. Thanks to Orlando Holt. Her gardener was worth
every penny it cost her to feed him.