Chapter 11

This was not what he wanted to deal with when he returned home. Adam couldn't believe that this was happening now.

Jasper, his horse, had been stolen. Somehow, the thief had managed to distract everyone in the stables and just ridden out with Jasper. By the time anyone knew what had happened, Jasper was gone.

Adam stood in the middle of his horse's empty stall, staring at the note in his hand. It had been pinned up on the door when the stable manager had returned. The words glared up at him, almost accusatory.

Is it still classed as stealing if you steal from a thief?

This had to be about the thievery Adam committed in the past. Someone knew about that, and they were using it to their advantage now. There couldn't be any other reason for something so shocking. Adam's thief knew about his past.

That just made this both more infuriating and frightening at the same time.

He turned to stable manager Flynn, hovering in the doorway to the stables. One of the stable lads was peeking around his arm, looking fearful. They all knew this was bad and were waiting for Adam to lose his temper.

"What happened exactly?" Adam asked. "How did this happen?"

"There was a fire started, Your Grace."

"What?" Adam froze. "A fire?"

"A brick was thrown through the window in the morning room, and the curtains were set alight. By the time anyone knew what was happening, the room was ablaze."

Adam's heart stopped. He had come up the driveway from the side nearest the stables, so he hadn't seen the state of the morning room, and Flynn had immediately pulled him into the stables.

"What about the dowager duchess? My sisters?"

"Her grace was in the library, Your Grace. Lady Eleanor and Lady Sabrina were in the schoolroom."

"Thank God for that. And nobody was hurt?"

Flynn shook his head.

"A few of us have sore throats from inhaling the smoke, but nobody was burned or seriously injured. We managed to put the fire out pretty quickly, though."

That was something. At least there wouldn't be a death or serious injury on this man's head. Adam was more and more certain now that a man was doing this; no woman could handle Jasper. He was a placid animal but far too strong. A woman couldn't get him out of the stall without serious problems.

It had to be a man. Someone willing to hurt anyone to make a point. Although Adam was worried about what was going to happen to Jasper. Was he going to be sold or worse? Adam didn't want to think about that.

"How bad is the damage?" Adam asked as he left the stall. "Is anything salvageable?"

"A good chunk of the room is destroyed, I'm afraid, Your Grace. But I think it can be salvaged."

"Show me."

Flynn obediently led Adam through the house, and Adam could feel the change in the air. It had been bad enough that vandalism was happening, but now it was stretching further, and the servants were inadvertently getting involved. Someone could have been hurt badly by this makeshift fire. A death could have occurred.

Adam couldn't have that on his conscience, especially if it happened to his mother or sisters. That would be gut-wrenching. But what could he do with that? There was no proof of who was actually doing this.

The morning room was wrecked. Half of it was untouched by fire, but even then, some of the furniture was ruined by water. Adam could see it dripping onto the floor. The part that had been affected by the fire just looked charred. The wallpaper was beginning to peel off, the colour looking as if it had been washed off.

The furnishings were black, and there was broken wood from chairs smashed on the floor. A bookcase by the broken window looked wonky, and the books would be destroyed. Adam didn't want to think how much money had been lost through this.

At least he could be grateful that it was ruined property and not someone's life.

He went to the window and stood there, staring at the driveway. He had a circular driveway from the main road and two separate entrances depending on which direction he was coming from. Adam had entered the opposite side because he had been coming from the city. He would have seen this sooner if he had come in the other way.

Although it might not have done much, the crime had already been committed.

Something didn't feel right about this, and it wasn't just that he was standing in a room that had been damaged by fire. Adam could feel it in his gut.

Then he looked down. There was no glass around his feet. He shuffled them, and there was no crunching. That was what was missing. The crunching of broken glass. Adam leaned towards the window, avoiding the jagged edges, and saw plenty scattered across the grass outside, twinkling in the sunlight.

Now he knew how it had happened.

"Where's the brick that broke the window?" Adam asked as he straightened up.

"I don't know, Your Grace," Flynn answered. "Nobody's touched it, as far as I'm aware."

Then Adam spied it under the settee. He retrieved it, the brick feeling warm in his hand. He weighed it in his palm.

"Our little thief had some help."

"What?" Flynn's mouth fell open. "You think …"

"The window was broken from the inside. Glass is outside, not inside. If the brick had come through the window from outside, glass would be scattered across the floor." Adam moved around a little to prove his point. "But there's nobody. Someone else broke the window from the inside and set fire to the curtains while the real thief stole Jasper."

Flynn looked horrified. He swayed.

"Are … are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I can't see anyone letting in the thief to do it from the inside and then running through the house without anyone noticing to steal Jasper. Someone had to be in it with him."

Flynn looked as if he was going to pass out. Adam couldn't blame him; accusing someone in his household of being a part of this was shocking. Flynn was in his fifties, and this couldn't be good for his health.

"Do you need to sit down, Flynn?"

"I … I'm fine, Your Grace." Flynn swallowed. "I'm not comfortable with accusing anyone of this. Everyone is loyal to you."

Except for his valet, but Adam wasn't about to say that. He and the butler were the only two aware of that, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Did that mean his valet was innocent all along? Or was there more than one accomplice? The thought either way was scary.

"Go and sort out the stables, Flynn. And send Morrison in."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Flynn still looked dazed as he left the room. Adam went to the window and tossed the brick out through the broken hole, seeing it drop onto the grass below. He heard the crunch of glass as the brick bounced. He would need to get the gardeners to clean all of that up; the last thing Adam needed was someone to come by and cut their feet through their shoes.

The knowledge that someone – or someone else – would be involved with this made Adam wonder if he could trust anyone in the house. There were so many servants, and Adam liked to think he treated them well enough that they wouldn't betray him. And now they were helping someone rip Adam's property apart from the inside.

Was it ever going to stop?

"Your Grace?"

Morrison had entered the room. Adam gestured to him to close the door. He knew that Flynn would keep this under wraps, but that was as far as his trust went. Even his stable manager wouldn't allow the theft of his master's horse to happen.

"I need you to make sure you know where everyone was right when the fire happened."

"What's going on, Your Grace?"

Adam took a deep breath.

"I believe someone inside the house is in league with the thief. Someone in the house set the fire."

Morrison's eyes widened.

"You're serious about this?"

"I wouldn't be bringing it up if I wasn't," Adam said grimly. "I need you to find out where everyone was. Don't tell them what I've just said to you; just do what you can."

"Of course, Your Grace." Morrison paused. "Do you think that means …?"

"If you're talking about my stolen ring, I honestly don't know. Something's wrong, and I want to be certain of my facts before I accuse anyone."

If he did get it wrong, and the valet had nothing to do with the theft of the ring, Adam would need to issue an apology. He needed to get to the bottom of this, or more lives would be ruined.

At least Maggie wasn't here. She wasn't involved with the fire.

What if she had been hurt?

Adam pushed that away. He shouldn't be thinking about how things would be different if Maggie had got hurt again. It was not helpful.

Then again …

"Where's Lady Banbury now, Morrison?"

"She's in the library. I advised her to stay there until you came home, Your Grace."

"Thank you. I'll go and see her. And lock this door. I don't want anyone coming in here."

Maggie had offered to help, and Adam decided this was a good opportunity to get that help. Maybe she could find something that he couldn't.

He could do it with help from anyone right now.

#

"Maggie, Baron Atterbury wants to talk to you."

Maggie looked up from the laundry to see Carstairs, one of the footmen, standing in the doorway. He looked like he hadn't had a shave in a while, and there were dark smudges under his eyes. When was the last time he had slept properly?

"Did he say what about?"

"No, he just received a letter and then instructed me to come and find you. I have no idea what it's about."

"A letter?" Maggie frowned. "That doesn't sound good."

Carstairs shrugged, and then he let out a loud yawn, barely covering it with his hands as he stretched his arms above his head.

"I don't know about that. I just do as I'm told. I'm not here to be nosy."

Maggie grunted.

"You're probably the nosiest person in this house, Charlie. I don't think you're going to convince me otherwise."

"Charming." Carstairs clutched his chest. "You do know how to wound me, Margaret Hay."

"Oh, stop it." Maggie peered at him. "Are you alright? You look like you haven't had much sleep in a while. Are you actually getting any sleep?"

"I'm getting enough. It's just when we get little sleep in the first place, and I like to slumber longer than we're allowed."

Maggie could understand that. There were times when they had to stay up really late when the baron and his family came back from a ball or dinner, and then they had a few hours before getting up again to start the daily chores. Servants didn't have the luxury of sleeping in hours after they were supposed to wake up.

It was annoying, but that was life. Maggie was used to it; she had been doing it all her life, so she could survive on little sleep. But Carstairs was still relatively new, and he did struggle.

He would get used to it. Although Maggie didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

Sighing, she put the laundry aside and wiped her hands on her apron.

"At least seeing the baron gets me out of folding laundry for now. Unless you want to take over and carry on what I'm doing," she added with a sly smile at him.

The young man immediately shook his head.

"No, not a chance. I'm not doing any laundry. Far too beneath me. No offence, Maggie," he added hurriedly.

"No offence taken. I wouldn't blame you for turning that down." Maggie stepped around him. "Where's Lord Atterbury now?"

"He's in his study. He went there after instructing me to find you."

"Fine."

Maggie made her way through the house towards the study, her mind racing on why he would want to see her. Had Lady Phoebe complained about something again? She couldn't have; Maggie had made sure there was nothing to complain about. She was very careful and could tell that Lady Phoebe was getting increasingly annoyed about it.

However, she wondered if it had something to do with the park walk earlier in the day. Lady Phoebe had demanded somewhere to sit, and there had been a bench. Maggie had taken note that it was under a tree, and a few birds had done their business on it. Lady Phoebe hadn't looked when she sat down, and she sat on the mess that was there. Banbury and Fletcher hadn't sat down, but both had noticed what had happened.

Lady Phoebe didn't appear to have noticed, but Maggie certainly noticed when her mistress stood up, and a bit of bird mess was attached to her behind on her skirt. It had made her giggle at the thought of Lady Phoebe wandering around with that on the back of her dress.

She was still wearing the dress, so perhaps she hadn't noticed. So Maggie couldn't be getting into trouble for making sure that bench was clean and dry before Lady Phoebe sat down just yet. But that wouldn't explain the letter.

It was all too confusing, and Maggie knew she was going to do herself up in knots trying to figure it all out.

She just needed to take a deep breath and calm herself down. Otherwise, she was going to be far too jittery in front of the baron.

Atterbury was at his desk, sitting back in his chair and reading what Maggie presumed to be the letter in his hands. He beckoned Maggie to enter when she stuck her head around the door.

"Come on in, Maggie. I've got something I want to discuss with you. And shut the door behind you."

"Yes, My Lord." Maggie did as she was told and crossed to the desk. "Is there something wrong?"

"I'm not entirely sure. But this is something that concerns you." Atterbury lowered the letter and fixed her with a stare. "I presume you still remember your … attack at the Duke of Banbury's house."

Was the letter from the duke? Maggie's heart fluttered, and she tried not to fidget. The baron wasn't an intimidating man, but something about him could put her on edge. It showed that he wasn't the complete pushover that Lady Phoebe made him out to be.

"I remember it, My Lord. It's not something I'm going to forget anytime soon."

"Well, the dowager duchess has written to me about it."

"The dowager duchess?" Maggie blinked. "I thought the duke wanted to keep this quiet from his mother."

"He must have said something because she's written to me." Atterbury put the letter on the desk. "She said that the duke wanted to talk to you further about what happened, but he's been unable to talk to you because there haven't been opportunities to speak."

Maggie was about to point out that Banbury had visited her at her childhood home but stopped herself. That was certainly not something that Atterbury had to know about. It would definitely be classed as inappropriate, and Maggie didn't want to mention that without causing an uproar. Even Baron Atterbury wouldn't be impressed with that, and no one would be able to say that nothing happened, even if the meeting was entirely innocent.

She put her hands behind her back and twisted her fingers together so Atterbury couldn't see that she was hiding something. She tended to fidget when uncomfortable, and he knew this.

"So, she wrote to me and asked if you could travel to their estate and stay there for the week."

"A week?"

"At the least. According to Lady Banbury, there's a possibility that you might remember something different, and you could help solve whatever's going on at the estate." Atterbury tilted his head to one side. "I don't know how your staying there is going to help anyone, but the dowager duchess is insistent about it, and I can't argue with that. If she asks, who am I to argue? She's a formidable woman when she puts her mind to it."

It took Maggie a moment to figure out what was going on. Banbury wanted her at the estate for a week? On her own? What was he thinking? What about his mother? Didn't she think that it was odd to ask for a maid from someone else's household to come and stay for a week?

Surely, they didn't need her, did they?

"I … and … what are your thoughts on it, My Lord?"

"Like I said, I don't know what good it will do, but I do know that the duke is nervous about the situation and wants it sorted as soon as possible. If the family believes that you can help …"

"Will you be able to spare me? I don't want to put you and Baroness Atterbury out at all."

Atterbury smiled.

"You don't need to worry about that. We managed while you were away and can do it again."

Maggie tried not to wince at that. Atterbury had to know it was not a recuperating time away but a punishment. She thought about Lady Phoebe.

"What about your daughter?"

"What about her?"

"Isn't she going to get upset about this? She wasn't happy after what happened to me, and I know …"

Atterbury held up a hand.

"I've already spoken to Phoebe about it, and she's aware of the situation. She had no say in the matter. We do what we're told by those above us in social standing, and the Duke and Dowager Duchess of Banbury are insistent on this. I wouldn't be getting you to do it otherwise."

That didn't make Maggie feel any better. She knew that Lady Phoebe would not be happy with this at all.

"So, when do you want me to leave?" Maggie asked.

"As soon as you can. You should get there by teatime if you hurry." Atterbury sat forward, clasping his hands on the desk. His eyes could be piercing when he wanted them to be. "But I want you back by the masquerade ball in ten days. We're going to need all the help we can to make sure it goes smoothly."

"Of course, My Lord."

Maggie had forgotten about the masquerade ball and was surprised that she had. It was something that Baroness Atterbury hosted every year, and they were always a success. Even working behind the scenes was enjoyable. Maggie found it fascinating to watch everyone wearing masks and see the diverse tastes and designs.

"Well, off you go." Atterbury shooed her towards the door. "Get your things packed and go. I'll notify Mrs Crawford that we will need to get Beatrice back to looking after Lady Phoebe."

"May I suggest someone else, My Lord?"

Atterbury frowned.

"Why? Don't you think that Beatrice is capable?"

"It's not that." Maggie took a breath. She had to play this delicately. "You know that your daughter is very … opinionated and strong-willed. Beatrice is the opposite. That is not a good combination. She's not strong enough to work for Lady Phoebe without things getting out of control."

Atterbury didn't look convinced. He regarded Maggie closely.

"Who do you suggest, then? You're the one who spends all your time with my daughter."

"I suggest Danielle, the scullery maid."

"Why?"

"She's a strong character as well and very unflappable. Plus, she's the most efficient worker I've come across after Mrs Crawford." And herself, of course. "I think she would be better suited to Lady Phoebe's nature. You want your daughter happy, don't you?"

"I certainly do." Atterbury sighed. "Alright, I'll speak to Mrs Crawford about temporarily giving Danielle your position. I just hope that this is not a bad idea."

"It won't be, My Lord." Maggie curtsied. "I'll start packing right away."

She left the room, her head still trying to take in what had just happened. She was going to be staying at Banbury's estate for a week? It felt like she was in a bizarre dream. This couldn't be happening.

But it was. And not only did it give her time away from Lady Phoebe, it meant that she and Banbury could spend time together. Maggie's heart leapt at the thought of that. Being around the duke and getting to know him better would be a delight.

Maggie knew she shouldn't think like that and needed to remember her place, but she couldn't help it. Despite the circumstances, her heart was warming at the thought of being with the duke. She wanted to do what she could to help him.

Anything to make him smile at her, to make him pleased because of her actions.

"I presume you've spoken to Father, have you?"

Maggie turned. Lady Phoebe was standing behind her, arms folded with a huge scowl on her face. Maggie kept her expression serene as she nodded.

"Yes. I am to leave as soon as I've packed everything."

"If I were you, I'd leave and never come back," Lady Phoebe snapped. "That's what you want, isn't it? To not come back?"

"It's my job, My Lady. I will be coming back."

"Not if I have anything to do with it. I know what you're up to. You're not as sly as you think you are."

Maggie frowned.

"My Lady?"

Lady Phoebe scoffed rudely.

"Don't play innocent with me, Maggie. I know you're attracted to the Duke of Banbury. I just have to look at you to know."

"What?"

"And I'm suspecting that he is the same with you. That's unacceptable, and I won't have that."

Maggie's mouth fell open. Lady Phoebe had noticed? She was more observant than Maggie thought possible. She closed her mouth and kept herself calm.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Why would I pursue any sort of emotions with a duke? That's just ridiculous."

"It is ridiculous. You're a maid, so that will never be happening. And if you did attempt anything, you will put the duke's reputation into question." Lady Phoebe lifted her chin and sniffed. "He deserves a better woman in his life. One who will complement him in his future. And that is me, not you. You're nothing."

Maggie didn't respond. She wanted to scold Lady Phoebe for her actions, to tell her to stop being such a little brat, but she didn't. That wouldn't help anyone, and she had something she needed to do.

Even so, the words hurt knowing that Lady Phoebe, for a little bit, was right about what she said.

"Anyway, don't take too long there," Lady Phoebe went on. "I'm sure Father has told you about the masquerade ball. We're going to need everyone to help."

"Of course he has. I will be back by then."

"It's the first I'm officially attending as a member of the ton, and I want it to go well. I don't want it to be ruined because you're a harlot who can't keep your place."

Maggie gritted her teeth.

"I understand you're upset, My Lady, but there's no need to call me names."

"I can do what I want. Who's going to stop me?" Lady Phoebe smirked and walked away. "Just remember what I can do, and you shouldn't have any problems."

Maggie's eyes spied the bird mess on the back of Lady Phoebe's skirt, and she couldn't help smiling. It was petty, but it was enough. She couldn't wait around anymore, not if she was needed elsewhere. There were more important things to do than to be petty towards her mistress.

Going to the Duke of Banbury was certainly more important.