Chapter 8

Lucian couldn’t believe that Eliza was behaving so foolishly.

She had also been far more disturbed by the missive then she let on. The moment she looked at it, the color disappeared from her cheeks and her hands began to shake. Further, she wanted brandy instead of tea.

If she was afraid, or at least concerned, why did she not accept his offer to have footmen watch over the cottage or write to her brother?

Did she not realize how vulnerable she was living in this cottage with two older servants?

Did she honestly think that no harm could come to her?

When he stepped outside, Lucian found the manservant standing beside his horses, but at an angle that could not be viewed from the parlor windows.

“You are more concerned than Lady Weston, are you not?”

“Yes, but she will not allow us to write to her brother.”

The manservant stared him in the eye and waited for Lucian to answer an unasked question. “She told me the same,” he said. “However, Miss Weston has no control over my actions nor can she threaten to have me sacked for disobeying her request.”

“Stella and I were hoping you would understand the seriousness of the situation.”

“Has she really received almost a dozen of those notes?”

“Yes. None of them had said much and were simply odd. The concern is that they keep arriving and she cannot escape them.”

Lucian nodded. “I will write to her older brother immediately.” He stepped up and into the curricle. “She rejected my offer of footmen to assist in keeping watch, but I will instruct my gardeners and groundskeeper to limit their work to the estate that borders Greenhaven Cottage.”

“Thank you, Lord Garretson.” The manservant handed him the reins.

“If another letter is received, please let me know immediately, whether Miss Weston permits it or not.”

“Aye. I will, even if it costs me my position.”

Lucian didn’t think the man would be sacked, but if it did occur, Lucian would find a position for him at Wyndhill Park.

As he drove away from the cottage and toward home, Lucian found himself glancing around. Though if the person was close, they would keep themselves hidden. He thought over his visit to town but could recall few unfamiliar faces. He may have lived here all his life, and visited town frequently, but that did not mean he knew each and every resident. Though, he did know those who would.

Lucian first returned to the manor but did not bother to unhitch his horses and then went inside to pen a letter to Mr. Isaac Weston advising him of the letter Eliza had received, how it was addressed, and that she was being most stubborn. Lucian also assured her brother that he would keep a watch over the cottage and Miss Weston until further arrangements could be made for her protection.

He then sealed the missive and returned to his curricle and drove into town so that it could be posted. He then visited the alehouse where he knew the owner, and the inns, and inquired if any strangers had taken an interest in the town, or those who lived further out, or any place in particular.

There were plenty of strangers. Some stayed and others moved on, but they didn’t recall anyone asking questions.

Chances were, whoever this was, had followed Eliza and then watched long enough to know that she was living at the cottage. But, if that were the case, why did he wait so long to write to her? The wedding had been a little over a sennight ago.

When Lucian returned to Wyndhill Park, he issued instructions to the groundskeeper and gardeners as to where he wanted them to work until told otherwise and that they would also be watching Greenhaven Cottage for any unusual activity with the excuse that Miss Weston’s brother had a sudden concern for her residing there with only two older servants for protection.

As much as she wished to be irritated with Garretson, Eliza was not.

It had been a sennight since the missive was received and nothing else had occurred, except the side of Wyndhill Park that bordered Greenhaven Cottage was receiving a good amount of attention from the gardeners. She would be surprised if there was a bush left to trim, a flower to be picked, or a blade of grass to be cut. She certainly hoped they did not intend to just work on one section of the estate while letting the rest go.

She was no fool and knew they were there to watch over her, even though it was not necessary. But it also kept her from being able to search another cave. Eliza was certain that as soon as she stepped out of the back of the house that they would note her progress and possibly report back to Garretson.

Blast! There must be a way that she could sneak out of the house without anyone being the wiser.

It would be something that she would put her mind to later, after she finished this chapter.

Eliza dipped the quill into the ink and started rewriting another page, careful in her penmanship, but before she could write more than a few lines the sharp pains shooting from the outside of her thumb and up to her wrist returned.

Eliza set her quill aside and stretched out her fingers. No doubt the discomfort was because she had been doing a good deal of writing this past sennight. Her hand was growing more painful each day and she simply had to stop so that it could rest.

When she was not writing, but researching or simply reading, Eliza had no difficulty with her hand, only after she’d spent hours and days with her thumb and fingers positioned around a quill or pencil. She also knew that if she tried to write more today, it would only grow more painful, as had been the case in the past. She now suffered from a stiff hand when she woke in the morning and experienced pain simply lifting a pot of tea until she’d stretched and loosened her hand. Experience had taught her that the longer she put off resting her hand, the longer the recovery until she could begin writing again, therefore she decided to step away from her novel for the rest of the day and hoped that there was great improvement tomorrow morning so that she could return to her work.

With a sigh, Eliza rose from her desk then used the double doors onto the terrace. When she stepped into the sun, she waved to the gardeners, who were only there to watch.

She hated being cooped up in the house yet she couldn’t really enjoy the sun while others watched on. That was not relaxing. It was bad enough someone else kept an eye on her—a person she had yet to see or identify, and she did not need another half dozen servants watching as well.

As she did not wish to be viewed, she made her way to the stables behind the house. It was a shame that the only horses within were for the carriage, otherwise she would go riding. Though, she couldn’t exactly take a horse through the woods. Well, she could but it would take too long because she would have to watch so they weren’t injured.

Eliza worked her way down the stalls, petting noses until she came to the end and stepped out the opposite of where she had entered only to realize that there was nothing but thick trees and tall bushes between Greenhaven Cottage and Wyndhill Park and if she walked into the woods right now, nobody would be the wiser.

However, she would not do so today as the gardeners had seen her and if she didn’t return soon, no doubt one of them would make mention of it to Garretson and he would come to call.

Instead, she would establish a pattern of being outside on the terrace in the afternoon, and visiting the stables, taking more and more time until those watching her thought nothing of her activities. She might even ask Saul to let her exercise the carriage horses in the afternoon, then when she did finally disappear to search the caves, the gardeners would simply assume they missed her return to the house. Except, they might see her when she really returned, and realize that she was gone far too long.

It was something she would need to think about.

No doubt her absence had already been noted, so with reluctance, Eliza returned to the stables and exited the way she had entered and slowly returned to the house, only to be met with Stella who was leading Lord Garretson out onto the terrace.

She hadn’t been gone so long for a gardener to report to him, had she?

“Do you not find it unfair that I am banned from your property but you visit me whenever you wish?”

“Nobody is sending me disturbing missives,” he returned.

She needed to convince him that there was no cause for concern or she’d never get to explore his estate.