Chapter 3

Lucian blew out a sigh and entered his library where he poured himself a glass of brandy. They were gone. Every last guest had finally vacated Wyndhill Park, which included his younger brothers. Micah had gone off to Harwood Hall, Asher to Newmarket and Silas to continue his education at the Veterinary College of London. Six months ago, Silas had been uncertain of his future. It was Asher, who ran the stables, who had suggested Silas become a veterinarian to care for their stable of racers.

Lucian needed the silence of today after having entertained so many guests these past few days. The first had arrived four days before the wedding, and they had been his sister, Elaina, and her family. Then Olivia’s brother and wife had arrived with their children, along with Olivia’s sister, and then the house had been flooded with friends of Xavier and Olivia.

He supposed there could have been many more people present but his brother and now sister-in-law had intentionally kept the guest list to those who were close and important to them.

Silence surrounded Lucian with the only sounds being distant and quiet voices of the servants as they went about putting Wyndhill Park back to rights.

Today that silence was welcoming, but in a few days, it would be deafening and Lucian had yet to determine the right balance of where he was comfortable with just the right number of people within the house so that there was conversation and laughter, but not so overwhelming that he could not escape the noise, and the main reason he had not wanted any of his brothers to move away from Wyndhill Park. They were the perfect balance but he also knew that they would not remain here forever.

What would he do when the remainder of his brothers married and made their own homes away from here?

Loneliness ate at him when he had only himself for company after a few days, but too many people put him on edge and exhausted him.

Lucian supposed that if he became too lonely and in need of conversation that he could always invite his new neighbor to dinner.

No! He would not invite Eliza onto his property as she would see it as an invitation to snoop and explore.

Though, that had been nearly ten years ago and she had likely given up her foolish search for that mummy. It likely would not even occur to her to wander off to portions of the estate beyond the gardens.

He didn’t even know why she was searching his estate for such a thing in the first place. They were in Hampshire, England, not Egypt!

Why had she thought to find it here? He had almost asked but decided that her reason would likely be as maddening as her belief that the mummy was here.

Lucian wandered to the terrace doors and stepped out. If he stood at the very edge, he could just see the cottage through the break in the trees. Why had she taken Greenhaven Cottage? If it was so she could be free of London, any property throughout England would have suited, yet she rented the one next to Wyndhill Park and Lucian wanted to know why. The real reason, and not simply that she needed to be away from London.

Eliza placed the manuscript before her on the desk. This was the reason she was at Greenhaven Cottage.

The words written on the parchment were those of a girl just learning to pen stories. More pages had been added through the years as ideas came to her, and as she learned what she believed to be the path the mummy had taken after it was stolen from the Mayfair home of Lord Edgworth. Each new detail or discovered information had been added to the manuscript, but none of it was cohesive. It was just an assortment of material. She also had no idea of what was true and what had been simply speculation or a false rumor. Yet, the pieces fit well enough together to write a novel.

Today, she would first organize her pages and prepare a new outline while arranging the research in order of events. Then she would began rewriting the story from the beginning, with a more mature tone, and layer in details previously missing. After she had completed her full edit and rewrite of everything before now, she would once again set out on her quest to find the missing mummy.

As outlining and rewriting would likely take the better part of a month, she was confident that by the time she emerged to begin her search, Garretson would no long be suspicious of her reason for residing at Greenhaven Cottage, and thus not concerned enough to watch for her to trespass onto Wyndhill Park.

“The Earl of Garretson has come to call, Miss Weston. Are you at home?”

“Garretson?” Eliza looked up from her desk with a frown because she could not think of a reason why he should be visiting her. Unless he wished to warn her away from Wyndhill Park once again. “Please send him in, and if it is convenient, bring tea.”

“Why Greenhaven Cottage? There are several cottages that you could have rented yet you chose this place,” he demanded as soon as he crossed the threshold.

Goodness! Did her being next door bother Garretson so very much?

Had he truly grown to hate her over the years?

It was a painful thought that she did not wish to dwell upon.

“I am banned from visiting Wyndhill Park, yet you find no difficulty visiting Greenhaven Cottage without invitation?”

Garretson pulled back in surprise. “I had not considered. If you wish for me to leave…”

Eliza chuckled. “I have no such rules and you are welcome to visit anytime you wish.” And she hoped that it was often. “Please, take a seat. Stella will return in a moment with tea.” Eliza rose from behind the desk and came around to sit in one of the chairs arranged for conversation before a table and settee.

“Why are you here?” he demanded after taking a seat across from her.

“The location suited me. I was already going to be in the area to attend my friend's wedding, and as I did not want to travel here and then to another location, wasting precious time, I settled on the only property available in the area.”

She would never tell him about the true purpose for choosing this particular property.

“That is all?” he demanded.

“I needed to be away from London and the silence of the country and the fresh air suited me.” She evaded his direct question and hoped that he did not notice.

Stella entered and placed the tea service on the table between them.

Eliza bent forward to pour, not bothering to ask if he took anything in his tea because she recalled from her earlier visit that he preferred nothing. “It is a delightful location and I am able to work without the noise and distractions that I must endure in London.”

He frowned. “Work?”

“Yes, work. It is what those of us do when we are not the heir to a fortune or estate.”

“You are the daughter of a viscount,” Garretson reminded her.

“I am a spinster who does not want to spend her life dependent on parents or brothers.”

“So, you work,” he said almost with disbelief. “What kind of work do you do, Miss Weston?”

If he found the idea of her working objectionable, which it appeared Garretson did, he would not approve of her profession either. “I would rather not say,” she answered.

“Why? Is it illegal or perhaps…”

She lifted an eyebrow waiting for him to voice what else he was thinking and assumed he had quickly jumped to a conclusion. “It is neither illegal nor immoral. I simply wish to keep my identity a secret.”

“Identity? You are Eliza Weston and there are few in Society who have not heard your name.”

“I keep secret the identity which I work under,” she answered.

This was met with another frown. “You are making no sense.”

“I would tell you but you would first have to be sworn to secrecy.” Micah had promised to hold her confidence when she’d whispered it to him, but would Lucian?