Chapter 10

“Lord Garretson, might I have a word?”

He turned to find Saul standing in the doorway, his dark eyes concerned. Then Stella entered carrying the tea service but she was trembling so much that the cups shook in the saucers. Further, her face was devoid of color.

As much as Lucian wanted answers from Eliza, something more urgent required his attention.

“If you will excuse me.” He bowed and exited the parlor.

“He was here and in the house,” Saul whispered. “Stella discovered what he left when she returned Miss Weston’s items to her chamber.”

Lucian followed Saul up the stairs and into a lavender bedchamber and walked directly to the bed covered in a white counterpane upon which dead roses and a piece of parchment had been left.

My heart longs for when we can truly be together.

“I am going to assume the person sending the letters is a man and probably considers this a love note. But when was he here? Was it after you left for the picnic and before I arrived, or after I had gone in search for you?” He fisted his hands on his hips and wondered why the gardeners had not seen anyone near the cottage.

“Neither Stella nor I heard anyone when we came inside the cottage.”

“Have Stella pack Miss Weston’s things. She will be moving to Wyndhill Park, as will you and your wife.”

“Miss Weston will likely argue.”

“She can blister my ears and shout the entire summer, but I am not allowing her to remain here. I will carry her out of here if I must.” Lucian strode for the door. That man had found access into the house even though it was being watched, which meant that Eliza was no longer safe inside. And no matter how much he did not want her in his house, Lucian would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

“Dead flowers and another letter on my bed?” Eliza asked from her parlor. “What if I would have been here?”

He’d never heard Eliza so quiet, tame even.

“I assume, for the moment, that he is still too timid to face you directly.” Lucian stepped into the parlor. “Or it is his intention to terrify you. Either way, we cannot risk him returning or finally gaining the nerve to approach you directly.” Or heaven forbid, sneak into her bedchamber while the household slept. “It is not safe here. I will escort you to Wyndhill Park while Stella and Saul pack your belongings and theirs.”

When Eliza looked up, her silver eyes wide, Lucian saw fear in them for the very first time and it was all he could do not to approach and pull her into his arms.

“Thank you, Lord Garretson.” Then she frowned. “How did he even get in? Saul locked every window and every door.”

“The house was locked up when I arrived or I would have come inside and had a brandy while I waited for your return.”

“Could he still be in here?” she whispered.

A chill ran up Lucian’s spine because he had not thought to search the house.

Lucian stepped out onto the terrace and waved to a gardener. “I need every gardener to search this house.” He then marched to the corridor and yelled up to Saul to come down. “You stand outside the front and I will be outside in the back. I have men coming over to search the cottage.” Though, if someone had been in the house, they could have exited the front without anyone seeing.

He watched as Saul unlocked the door, which meant the man had gotten in by other means.

Saul exited as Lucian returned to the women and took them out onto the terrace. “Are there any other doors?”

“Only to the kitchen.” Stella pointed to one that led to a small kitchen garden. Lucian marched over and tested it, but it too was locked. Besides, had the man entered by that means, he would have been seen by his gardeners.

With any luck, the culprit was stuck inside and his gardeners would discover him.

Another disturbing thought was that the man may have a key, which was all the more reason to vacate the premises.

It was not long before the groundskeeper reported that nobody could be found inside. Lucian then asked if they could determine how anyone could get into a locked house. He would have searched and tried to determine this himself, but Stella was still shaking, Eliza was pale, and he did not want to leave them alone and unprotected after what had happened.

“It was the earth cellar,” another gardener announced.

“This cottage does not have an earth cellar,” Stella insisted.

“This way.” The gardener led them to the side of the cottage and hidden behind overgrown bushes and three steps down was another door. Lucian turned the handle and stepped inside where another gardener waited. At the side was another set of stairs. It was Stella who climbed them and pushed open the door. “This was here the entire time,” she gasped.

“Where does it lead?” Eliza asked.

“To the back of the pantry. There are shelves on the other side of the door and I had never noticed the handle before.”

At least they now knew how he had gotten in and out of the cottage. Goosepimples emerged on his arms as Lucian realized just how vulnerable they’d been. There was nothing on this side of the house, no neighbors, just more trees. No wonder his gardeners hadn’t seen anything.

As soon as she learned that the lock was broken on the door leading to the earth cellar and that there was no lock on the door at the back of the pantry, Eliza quickly agreed to vacate Greenhaven Cottage. In fact, she couldn’t leave quickly enough and only paused to gather the novel she was working on and the other documents she needed, pencils, quill, and the inkpot. Her servants could bring everything else, but she wasn’t leaving behind her most important possessions.

How many times had he been inside without them knowing, or had he discovered the entry today?

It didn’t matter. They were too vulnerable here.

Thank goodness Garretson insisted on keeping watch, not that it did any good, but he was there and offering his home and protection, which she would gladly take.

“Come along, Eliza. I will send footmen and maids over to help your servants and the gardeners will keep watch, but you need to be away from here.” He glanced at her trunk. “I will have that brought over with your other things.”

“It stays with me,” she insisted.

He frowned. “Is it truly necessary?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Very well.” Garretson then called for a gardener to carry the trunk and follow them back to Wyndhill Park.

Eliza shivered with awareness of being watched and glanced around her and back to the wooded area. Was he there now watching and waiting?

What did he want with her?

Why her?

Eliza liked to be scared and she liked scaring others, something that she had enjoyed immensely while a student at the Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies. There she had embellished the tales of vampires, ghosts, and witches in the area and took enjoyment from those escapades. Well, for the most part. There were a couple of dangerous situations that she and her friends had managed to get themselves into, but that was from their own foolishness and not because of any paranormal being.

But, knowing that she was being watched while receiving disturbing missives and then to learn that the man had been in her home…This may be the first time that Eliza had ever truly known fear.

How dare anyone trespass into her house…her bedchamber? Yes, she trespassed on Garretson’s estate, and several other places in her youth, but that was not to harm or scare anyone. She was simply curious or exploring. Not knowing what this man wanted, or what he would do next was what frightened her.

As she and Garretson walked to Wyndhill Park, she constantly glanced about, certain that she was being watched, nearly jumping at shadows or shifts in the trees.

Not only had it shaken her, but she was angry. In fact, with each step, a little bit of fear was replaced with fury. Eliza far preferred being enraged and wished it would erase the trepidation.

“Thank you,” she said again. “I know how you would rather me be anywhere but at Wyndhill Park.”

“It is necessary. I promised your brother and I would hate for anything to happen to you.”

She frowned and stopped, facing him. “I am not your responsibility.”

“No, but I can offer protection when there is a threat,” he explained.

“I assume there are rules,” she stated. “After all, I am about to trespass so I am certain you have rules that I must follow.” She wanted to argue with Garretson, provoke him, because she needed some normalcy.

“Are you attempting to turn your anger toward me, Miss Weston?” Garretson asked quietly.

“Perhaps I am,” she admitted.

“It is far better to go after an enemy that can be seen. Though, I would prefer that we are not adversaries.”

“You are the one who has forbidden me from being anywhere near you.”

“I forbade you trespassing anytime and anywhere you wished.”

She frowned again. “Why is that? What are you hiding?”

He chuckled. “I hide nothing. What I do not like is surprises.”

Such as a female coming out of a lake after she nearly drowned. Except…Oh, she might never understand. Her being in the lake and kissing him should have nothing to do with her exploring the remainder of Wyndhill Park. After the lake, he became most aggravated and irritated…angry when he’d find her exploring and searching yet another area. She did not understand why. Even though they had been alone, it wasn’t as if he had kissed her, much to her disappointment.

“Then I shall report to you where I go and when.”

“That shall not be necessary as you will not be leaving the house without an escort.”

“I am to be confined and you are my jailor. Is that how it is to be?”

“You are to be kept safe.”

If there was one thing that she could count on, it was Garretson being autocratic, which is what she needed to suppress her fear and feed her anger.

The butler opened the door as they stepped in. The housekeeper was standing to greet them. Was this a normal occurrence when Garretson returned home?

“Is all well?” she asked with concern.

Then again, they had passed several footmen walking to Greenhaven Cottage so it was likely they wished to know why this household had been disturbed.

“I will explain at a later time,” Garretson answered. “For now, Miss Weston and her two servants will be residing at Wyndhill Park. I would have you put Miss Weston in the set of rooms that are next to mine.”

The housekeeper’s eyes widened. “The rooms intended for…”

“Yes.” Garretson cut her off. “It is for the purpose of safety, only. As none of the other chambers are occupied on that floor, I would have Miss Weston close enough to hear if something were to happen.”

Was it so he could hear her scream?

Surely, he didn’t think someone could get in here. Except, she hadn’t thought it possible for anyone to gain access to Greenhaven Cottage either. “I really do not wish to put anyone out,” Eliza offered.

Garretson ignored her and turned to the butler. “Each window and door is to be locked. Those that cannot be, or usually not during the day, will have a footman standing guard. Report directly to me if anyone sees anything unusual.”

The servants shared a concerned and questioning look.

“Of course, Lord Garretson. I will see to it right away.”

“Miss Weston’s items should be arriving shortly. Please see that they are taken upstairs.”

“I will see that everything is settled,” the housekeeper answered.

“I will now escort Miss Weston to the parlor at the back of the house, next to the library. There she shall work.”

The housekeeper frowned. “Work?”

“She is an author. She took the cottage to complete her novel and current circumstances should not prevent that from happening.”

It was then Garretson looked at her. “This way, Miss Weston.”

As the gardener who followed them started for the stairs she came to a halt. “I need the trunk where I will be working. It contains my necessary materials.”

He nodded then walked past them and toward the back of the house.

“Thank you,” she offered and then turned to the servants. “I do apologize for the sudden and unexpected inconvenience.” She felt it necessary to be overly appreciative since Garretson’s tone had been cold when he spoke to them. Was he always so sharp and orderly in his tone? They may be his servants, but they were humans too.

Garretson marched ahead and Eliza followed. They passed the library and then stepped into a pale, yellow parlor. It was not very large and boasted a settee, two chairs with blue upholstery and a small desk beside large windows that faced the west. Delicate white curtains framed the windows and doors leading to gardens.

“This was where my mother wrote her correspondence and would take tea in the afternoon if there were no guests. I hope it will suffice.”

“It is lovely,” Eliza murmured. “Thank you.”

“I shall be in the library if you need me. I am certain Mrs. Porter will collect you when your things have arrived and show you to your set of rooms. He then nodded and left her alone in the parlor.

Eliza assumed that Garretson had chosen the sleeping chamber usually assigned to the mistress of the house, or Garretson’s future wife, and that is why Mrs. Porter had been alarmed. She also did not read further into this request because he had become protective, even though it was not asked of him.