Chapter Two

In Which a Mystery Begins to Unfold, and Guests Arrive at Forest Grange

Holly was happy to see she’d arrived before the anticipated visitors, and managed to reach her room, tidy herself, and return downstairs without comment. She had hung her cloak at the very back of the hall cupboard, so the dampness around the hem wouldn’t be noticed.

“Here you are, darling. Excellent timing.” Her mother smiled at her from her seat at the table.

“I understand we have visitors this morning? I don’t think you mentioned that, Mama…” she helped herself to tea and a bun, enjoying the warmth of the room.

“I didn’t know, myself,” replied Lady Hazel. “It wasn’t until quite early that the messenger arrived with the news. Your papa wasn’t expecting anyone, but apparently Sir Duncan Aylmer is at Rosewood Park, and wishes to spend an hour or so with him.”

Holly frowned. “We know him, don’t we? I’ve certainly heard his name…”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t say we’re well acquainted,” answered her mother. “Your father seemed rather surprised to learn of Sir Duncan’s imminent arrival.”

“Wait,” Holly sought for a memory. “Of course. He owns Rosewood Park. Cherry used to go on about visiting to see the roses.”

“That’s right,” Lady Hazel nodded. “We did, once or twice, but it was quite a while ago. Sir Duncan is a retired Justice of the Peace, and it used to be his seat. I completely forgot about that. He’s not at Rosewood much anymore, I don’t think. He has a smaller property several miles to the north.” She stared thoughtfully at her teacup. “I know your Papa established the northernmost borders between our lands with him many years ago. To everyone’s satisfaction, I think.”

“Wait, I thought Myrtle Manor lay to our north?”

“Yes,” nodded her mother, “yes, it does, but it sort of fits in around us and Rosewood Park, for a short distance.” She picked up her tea. “The Rosewood Park estate is huge, Holly. And I’m not sure how much time Sir Duncan actually spends there, or if he just visits occasionally. He might use it for formal occasions, I suppose. The land is well-maintained, but honestly, we’ve never had much—if anything—to do with it at all.”

Knowing the size of Forest Grange, or at least having a rough idea, Holly nodded. “I can understand why.”

“Your Papa will know better than I,” said Lady Hazel. “My task this morning, in which I hope to be assisted by my beautiful daughter…” she shot a smile at Holly, “will be to make our guest welcome, give him tea if he needs it, and then leave him to talk to your father.”

“Who will be ruthlessly questioned after Sir Duncan leaves.”

“Of course.” The woman smiled calmly. “As you like to say, darling, having the right information is as good as having a shilling in your pocket.”

Ferguson entered at that point, engaging Lady Hazel in conversation, and giving Holly a chance to gather her thoughts while devouring her breakfast bun.

First and foremost, she had to put together some supplies for Mr Hawkesbury, and take them to the Nook. Not a formidable task, since she’d often decided to spend the day there, and taking food would be no cause for anyone’s concern.

Firewood was stacked already, so all she needed was bit of dry kindling. Perhaps a blanket would be a good idea, as the ones in the chest at the Nook might well be home to mice by now, even though they were surrounded by solid cedar.

Her mind made an organised list, and she finished her breakfast just as Ferguson departed.

“Apparently, they are nearing the drive, Holly. Would you come with me into the hall to welcome them? It would be good manners. You need not stay, of course.”

Holly sighed with relief. “Thank you, Mama. Yes, I’ll come. But then I’m thinking of spending the day in the Nook. It’s quiet, I can get a fire going, and it will give me chance to peruse a book I’ve been longing to begin.”

“Something academic, I’m sure…” grinned Lady Hazel. “How your brain holds so much information surprises me sometimes.”

Holly chuckled. “You know me well, Mama. I believe in learning. And I apologise that it isn’t embroidery or music.”

“Don’t, dear, there’s no need. Your Papa and I are very proud that our family can explore what appeals most to them. That’s how lives become happy and fulfilled. Look at your sister. She spent so much time on her horticultural studies that she found the man of her dreams in the very woods she loved.”

“Well, Mama, Cherry stumbling across her future husband while he slept in our forest doesn’t really prove your argument, since he didn’t grow there. But that’s beside the point. And I’m grateful, anyway.” She dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek as they walked toward the foyer.

A footman entered first, turning to extend an arm to an elderly gentleman who entered slowly and carefully, making full use of an ornate cane.

Holly heard her Papa hurrying up behind her and exchanged a quick smile with him as he brushed past. Still tall and healthy, Lord Hawthorn Trease was a handsome figure of a man, and his daughter watched him with warmth and pride as he graciously welcomed the distinguished visitor.

“A pleasure to see you after so long, Sir Duncan,” he said, his voice clear and radiating friendship. “I must say we’re delighted to welcome you to Forest Grange, if a little surprised?”

The elderly man smiled and nodded. “You’ve not changed, Hawthorn, I’ll say that for you. Sadly,” he waved his cane, “age has caught up with me, and not been too kind about it.”

“Then you must sit and warm yourself, sir. And I think a cup of tea is definitely in order.” Lady Hazel moved forward. “There’s always a welcome for you here, you know that full well.”

Chuckling at the gentle scold, he gave her a little bow. “Still as beautiful as ever, my dear Lady. And this must be your sister?” He looked at Holly.

She laughed, as she was meant to, and curtsied gracefully. “I’m Holly Trease, sir. Thank you for the lovely compliment to both my Mama and me, which I shall happily accept.”

“Come along, Sir Duncan. Let’s get you comfortable.” Lord Hawthorn paused as another man entered the foyer.

“I must introduce you to my travelling companion,” Sir Duncan turned slightly. “We are bound for London together on business. This is Mr Samuel Blackstone, who shares some financial interests with the Aylmer estate, and who has been visiting the area.”

“Mr Blackstone,” nodded Lord Trease. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.”

“The honour is mine, my Lord, my Lady.” He bowed formally. “And my thanks for your warm and considerate welcome to a stranger.”

Holly observed the proprieties being exchanged, but then caught Mr Blackstone’s eyes as they roamed around the foyer and landed on her. He was tall, with dark hair and a well-cut black travelling jacket. Some might have called him handsome, although he did not seem a slave to fashion. His face struck Holly as being hard—cheekbones sharp and eyes that did not look as if they could ever smile.

Dark, dark eyes. For some reason, the lingering glance he gave her was almost like a physical touch, and one she did not care for, in the least.

He offered a barely noticeable nod along with a slight curve of his lips, then followed Sir Duncan and Lord Trease toward the morning room, where Lady Hazel waited with refreshments.

Holly touched Ferguson’s arm and leaned a little closer to him. “Do we know anything about Mr Blackstone?”

“No, Miss Holly. A complete stranger to me, that’s for sure.” His gaze met hers, curiosity in his eyes.

“Hmm.”

Since Ferguson knew everyone and everything, and was usually the repository of more information on guests than her father’s copy of Debrett’s, she had to admit to a certain amount of concern. That look, that uncomfortable feeling meeting his eyes had engendered—she did not like it, or him, at all. In fact, it would be accurate to say he made her skin crawl.

Which—for someone as practical as Miss Holly Trease—was quite out of the ordinary.

*~~*~~*

While the social niceties were being observed at Forest Grange, and more tea poured into elegant china cups, Richard Hawkesbury was having a drink of water out of a chipped mug in Forest Nook.

It might have been a bit of a comedown from what he was used to, but nonetheless, he was very grateful for it, and the fact that he was well sheltered from the wind which had sprung up as the clouds covered the sun. The kitchen had warmed, as promised, but he knew it would not last for too long, not in this weather.

His head ached, and his side was sore, but both those problems would pass. He prided himself on his health, and right now he was glad he’d always been the one man who refused the final drink of an evening with friends.

Of course, he’d also been the one to see them all home safely, but that was the price he paid for friendship, and it didn’t bother him. Getting drunk did, so he didn’t do it. Nor did he explain it, since those who asked were usually too drunk to remember his answer.

This morning, however, he wouldn’t have refused a brandy. And a good meal, since he hadn’t eaten in almost a day.

Standing and stretching, he winced slightly at the pull beneath his arm. It had been a stroke of luck that the blade had only nicked him, then slid toward his armpit. Matters could have been so much worse had it not deflected away from his chest.

Looking around him, he catalogued his surroundings.

The reduced size of the rooms and furniture spoke to Miss Trease’s explanation of a child’s playhouse. But there were also features that accommodated adults, like the sink where he’d washed his wound, and tried to clean any remaining blood off his face and hair.

Being a good guest, he’d rinsed the cloths and cleaned up after himself, putting the wet things near the window where he hoped they’d dry in whatever sunshine might arrive.

All things considered, he had been damned lucky.

The attack, two men in the dark, one with a club, and the other with fists and a dagger, had been completely unexpected, quick, and effective. They knew what they were doing, and Richard placed a hand over his ribcage where a punch had winded him. There was probably a bruise there, but he wasn’t about to remove his jacket and shirt to find out. It was too damn cold.

Somewhat lost without his bag, he wandered into the small parlour and perused the bookshelf. Most of what was there would suit youngsters. And some looked as if a few hungry mice had tried to digest some literature. And failed.

But he noted that the room was clean and dust free, and that the cushions in one particular chair by the window seemed quite new. Wondering if Miss Holly read there, he walked to it and sat, heaving a sigh of relief as the soft padding eased his aching body.

His thoughts drifted as he covered his knees with his cloak.

Why would someone want those documents so badly? They were simple drawings, and he had no inkling at all why they would pertain to anyone in this area, or pose enough of a threat to anyone that a violent attack seemed like a good idea.

It was a question he turned over in his mind many times, and still he could arrive at no reasonable answer.

He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was still alive, and had read the papers he’d been given. Would that fact alone mark him for death? Would there be another attack on him, but this time one not guaranteed to leave him living?

Good luck may have deserted his assignment, but it had delivered Miss Trease to the right place at the right time. In fact, she seemed to have seen it, judging from her passing comments. But how she could have done that, he had no clue at all.

Yet another question for her if—or when—she returned.

He offered up a silent prayer that it would be when she came back, and that she would be alone, although she’d be taking a dreadful risk by doing so. Richard might not be a member of the Ton, but he knew that to be isolated with a gentleman in circumstances such as these could well ruin a young woman’s reputation. He’d rather not be responsible for that.

Shivering a little, he tucked his cloak more closely around himself. The sun hadn’t done much to warm the little house, and they were already halfway through December. Although it had yet to snow in this area, the air didn’t hesitate to remind everyone that winter had arrived.

A sound, the front door creaked and squeaked, and then closed again.

“Mr Hawkesbury. It’s me. Holly.”

“I’m here,” he answered, rising and grabbing his cloak before it fell on the floor.

“Oh goodness, it’s cold in here.” She bustled in, her winter clothing still wrapped around her shoulders, and stared at him. “Sit back down. That is as good as a blanket.”

He blinked and obeyed, since she gave him a stern look. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“I have supplies,” she put a large bag on the table next to him. “Open that while I start a fire.”

“Wait,” he frowned. “The smoke. Someone might see…”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, slipping off her cape and spreading it over his lap in addition to his cloak. “There. That should keep you warm for a bit.” Rummaging in her reticule, she produced a small magnifying glass. “Now, let’s get this place warmed up.”

There were logs in the fireplace, and straw and kindling laid ready.

He watched, fascinated, as she knelt and focussed the sunlight from the window through the glass and into the dry straw, which burst into flames within moments.

“Good. We’ll soon warm up now.” With casual efficiency, she arranged wood and kindling on the fire and adjusted the chimney damper as the flames caught the kindling.

Bemused, he blinked at her, then returned to his original train of thought. “What do you mean ‘don’t worry’?”

“I’ve told everyone I’ll be spending some time here, reading and working on a project. So any smoke they see will obviously be from the fire I need to keep warm. And the food in the bag? I said I might save some in the little pantry for tomorrow, if the weather holds. So I was able to bring extra.”

Richard’s stomach growled loudly.

From the hearth, where a fire was already growing, shedding a glow of light across her face, Holly looked up at him and laughed, her blue eyes bright, appreciating the humour of the moment. “I hope I brought enough.”

That, realised Richard sometime later, was probably the exact instant he did something he never ever imagined doing—and tumbled head over heels in love with Holly Trease.