Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

P atience could not wait to fall into her bed. They'd finished searching the estate and found nothing. She still wished she knew what they were searching for and what kind of man it was they'd caught and what kind of man would motion to her that he would slit her throat.

It was something she must become accustomed to, as Major Stuart had indicated it happened in his line of work.

So how did she get the vision of the man's evil black eyes out of her thoughts? His face was so vivid in her mind that she could have drawn his portrait.

Shuddering from repulsion, she went to scoop up Xander, who had been waiting for her when she came in the door. There was something deeply comforting about having an animal for companionship. She did not know if she'd be able to relinquish Xander to Joy when Freddy finally accepted him. It was wonderful having him to herself, and she was able to fall asleep with him curled up at her feet.

The next day, Patience awoke early as she often did, and took the puppy out to see to his needs. It felt good to think about something other than herself. Three times during the night she had startled with nightmares of black, menacing eyes. Then Xander had licked her hand reassuringly, and she had been able to go back to sleep.

She stood on the terrace overlooking the lawns as Xander stopped to sniff and mark his territory. It was much chillier that morning, as though autumn had been ushered in fully after the rains.

Xander discovered a stick, brought it to her, and laid it at her feet. Had Mr. Cunningham already trained him to play fetch?

"You wish to play?" She picked up the stick and threw it and chuckled as his fuzzy little body wiggled and bounced towards the object.

As she played with Xander, she could not help but contemplate the situation. It was a relief to know the man had been caught, and that nothing was found, but she could not help but feel as though something had been missed.

A good spy would continue searching, but she knew very well that it wasn't safe for her to go looking alone.

As they walked back to the house, she checked to see if anyone had come down yet who might be willing to go with her, but it seemed as though the guests were still in bed. Normally, Faith was an early riser, but the pregnancy was exhausting her.

Maybe one of the grooms would not mind accompanying her.

Quickly she found Peter, the same boy who had been eager to give Xander a bath the day before. Not that a stable hand would refuse a member of the household, but it was a relief to know they did not mind being taken from their normal duties.

Peter played tug and fetch with Xander while they walked back to the clearing. Patience could not say why, but she felt drawn back to the place.

It looked no different today, but she was not one to ignore her instincts. What were they trying to tell her? She stood there and closed her eyes towards the sky and took a deep breath. She could hear Peter playing with the dog on the path, but she tried to block them out and listen.

Not that she expected the trees to begin speaking to her, but there had to be some reason she felt called to be there.

Opening her eyes, she tried to look at everything from a different angle. The old chestnut trees still encircled the small clearing, which was covered with grass, a few fallen logs, and leaves. After walking back and forth across it, she still was no further along than they had been the two previous times.

"What am I missing?" she asked aloud, looking upward when her eyes caught on a ladder. She walked towards it. Well, not a ladder, precisely, but wooden boards had been nailed into what she and her sisters would have deemed a perfect climbing tree. They looked rather old and she wasn't certain they were steady enough to bear her weight. Had this been the boys climbing tree when they'd been youths? Surely they knew about it. Had they already climbed and dismissed the notion, or were the boards too old to hold an adult, so they'd dismissed the ladder out of hand?

"There's only one way to find out."

Patience put her weight on the bottom one to test it, which was rather difficult as the lowest rung was almost waist high.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she muttered to herself as she heaved herself to the next step.

It held, so she slowly climbed the eight boards until she reached the top, which ended at a saddle-like groove from which the branches originated. It was a glorious lookout, where she could envision many a childhood imagination coming to life.

Being sorely out of climbing practise, she leaned against one of the curved branches to rest, and looked around appreciatively. It must be a high point on the estate, she reflected, as the view was incredible.

To the northwest, she could make out the ball atop the royal observatory, and straight on, she could see the Thames and the docks across the river, with different types of boats moored there, from barges to yachts.

It was lovely and relaxing, and Patience thought she could stay there forever, but knew she should be getting back.

After she climbed down, she walked back to Peter and Xander, and they returned to the house.

A few of the soldiers had come down for breakfast, so she joined them. She was familiar with them from before, some more than others. They stood when she entered. "Good morning, gentlemen." She went to the sideboard to fill her plate.

"Miss Whitford. Your cheeks are rosy. Have you been out for a walk this morning?" Major Stuart asked.

"Indeed. I took Xander out, but do not worry, I took a groom with me."

There were mutual frowns upon all of their faces. Patience bit back a smile.

"I would prefer if one of us were to accompany you until this situation is resolved," Colonel Renforth said.

"I thought it was resolved." She feigned innocence with drawn brows. Would they just tell her what was going on?

"We hope that is the case, but until we are certain, it is best to be safe."

"Oh, of course." Drat. Now she would be a prisoner again herself. "Did the man not give you any clues what he was about?"

She could see Renforth exchange glances with Major Stuart. He was not very talkative, unfortunately.

"If you need a female to have a go at him, I am told I can be very persuasive." She spoke light-heartedly, but the idea was a good one. Unfortunately, that caused all of them to laugh as though she'd uttered the wittiest witticism ever spoken. Her cheeks threatened to blush, but with anger more than embarrassment.

"What is so amusing?" Westwood asked as he entered the room.

"Miss Whitford has been giving us advice."

Dominic raised his brows at her with curiosity.

She waved her hand as though it did not bear repeating.

"Did I see you out with Xander this morning?" he asked.

"Miss Whitford decided it was safe to take a walk." Major Stuart would tattle.

"I was not alone. I took Peter with me. We only walked down the path and back. Not even to the bridge."

"Did you see anything new?"

"As a matter of fact, I had not noticed the boards on the large chestnut tree. Was that a favourite place for you as a youth?"

"Indeed, it was," Westwood said fondly, then frowned. "Though I cannot think it would be safe to climb those steps any longer. They are quite old."

"I found them to be sturdy enough for me."

"You climbed the tree?" Baines asked with disbelief.

"Of course she did," Stuart drawled.

"I do not see what the harm is. I checked my weight on it before I climbed. I never realized how high that area was above the estate. The view from there was quite spectacular. If only I'd had a looking glass, there is no telling what I might've seen. As it was, I had an excellent view of the river, the docks, and even the ball on the observatory."

Renforth stood suddenly. "I beg your pardon, but Stuart, I think you'd best take me there now."

"Yes, sir." He stood and tossed his napkin on the table. Surprisingly, the others stood and excused themselves to go along.

"You certainly know how to clear a room," Dominic mused.

"What did I say?"

"I believe it is more what you saw that caused their precipitous exit."

She looked at him in confusion.

"None of us thought to climb the tree and look," he explained.

"So you think the man was watching something from there?"

"Very likely. Now we must discover what he was looking at."

They all took turns climbing up to the vantage point in the tree, and Ashley could only curse himself for not thinking to do so himself—or remembering the view. It had changed over the years, especially with the expansion of the docks to accommodate all of the increased traffic in the Thames.

"The view of the docks is incredible," Renforth remarked as he looked through the glass they had brought along. "It has to be why he remained even after he was discovered. I think one of us will need to keep watch here. There is still a chance they do not know we have taken him captive."

"He still has not spoken?" Ashley asked Baines.

"Not yet, but he will."

"I will stay for now," Manners offered.

"I think it best if we keep two men out here at night. We will rotate the grooms out here to help. You can easily get someone's attention from the stables during the day with a whistle," Ashley suggested. "I will have someone send provisions for you to keep you comfortable."

"And I will come back and check on you often," Renforth added. "I cannot think we will have to wait too long. If only we knew what they were waiting for. Is it a chance to move what they've already stolen? Or do they plan to steal more? I need those dossiers."

"I will enquire of my father to see if there are any more arms shipments expected," Manners offered.

With those plans decided, they returned to the house. Westwood greeted them. "Anything?" he asked Ashley.

"An excellent view of everything going on at the docks. We will take turns keeping watch. If you could have provisions sent, that would be much appreciated."

"Consider it done. I should have thought of the lookout myself. By the by, Sir Horace is expected here within the hour. I received word as soon as you left."

Not only did Sir Horace arrive, but also his lady, his heir, and their three marriageable daughters. Westwood exchanged amused glances with his brother, though he did not think Faith would be amused to entertain in her current condition.

Ashley wanted to hide, but unfortunately, they would have to pass by the cacophony of frills and furbelows who were attached to their pretentious mama. Perhaps Ashley was being harsh, but regardless of how innocuous and countrified Lady Fagge looked, she was a predator, just like all the others he knew. If only he had escaped to the study with the others a few moments before.

The guests were shown into the drawing room, and Ashley could not help but want to murder his brother. "Were you not specific in your wording on the invitation?" he asked quietly before they followed them inside.

"Believe me, I was. I would never deliberately put Faith through a visit. I've half a mind to make her excuses, but I sent up word and will allow her to make the decision. However, I have sent for Patience to entertain them in her stead, and she's likely to murder me in my bed for it. Rupert is overly fond of her."

"The son? What do you mean overly fond?" Ashley bit out a bit too harshly.

"As in he worships the very ground she walks on. It's nauseating to watch."

"I gather she does not appreciate the adoration?"

"Let me say that the man does not understand hints or even overt rebuffs. He attributes her protestations to her maidenly modesty."

"I am beginning to feel sick. I vaguely remember him as a pudgy youth, but have not interacted with him since."

"Consider yourself fortunate. We are forced to interact with them on a daily basis. They have called every single day we've been at Taywards, at least until the flooding began."

Ashley saw Miss Whitford come down the stairs towards the drawing room, and she was most definitely shooting daggers from her azure orbs. He could not help but smile.

"I am only doing this for my sister," she grumbled at Westwood.

"And I appreciate it more than you know."

"You do not intend to feed me to the wolves alone, do you?"

"Where are Grace and Joy and Miss Cunningham? Or Montford and Mr. Cunningham?" Stuart asked.

"I assure you I would have sent for them, but they all conveniently went into the village," she snapped.

Westwood exchanged glances with Ashley. "Would you mind accompanying her?" he asked. "I feel as though I should be there at least for the initial discussions with Sir Horace since he is unknown to the others."

"Yes, do come. If you can keep Rupert's clammy paws off me, I will be eternally grateful."

Ashley frowned. Hopefully it was an exaggeration on her part, but he followed her into the drawing room. "I hope you will return the favour. At least you are not outnumbered."

Miss Whitford entered the room and greeted the guests. "What an unexpected surprise. How lovely to see you, Lady Fagge. Unfortunately, my sister is late in her confinement and is not up to receiving guests this morning. I do hope you'll excuse her."

The lady's gloved hands flew to her chest. "I did not realize she was so far along! Pray convey my best wishes to her and tell her to send for me when the time comes. I have a great deal of experience in childbed." Ashley could only pray she did not expound upon that knowledge. Nor did he believe for a moment the woman did not know to the day how far along Faith was. Had Dominic not just said they called every day before the rains began? "Have you met my daughters, Major Stuart?" she asked, knowing full well he had not.

"I have not had the pleasure." He deftly bowed over their hands, and said the appropriate pleasantries, while wondering why the predatorial matchmaking mamas had no taste and raised their daughters to look and act like buffoons.

He glanced at Miss Whitford and could see she was no more enjoying this visit than he.

Rupert was indeed overly taken with Patience. And if Ashley was not mistaken, the man was salivating just looking at Miss Whitford. He was dressed as garishly as any of the London set known as Macaronis. He affected a monocle over one eye, which his Titus-swept hair threatened to cover. His striped stockings with a polka-dotted waistcoat, as well as jewelled buckles on his shoes, were a counterpoint to the high points of his collar. He looked as out of place in the country as a fish in the desert.

Patience was scooted as far away from Rupert on the sofa until she was practically climbing over the edge to get away from him. Poor girl. He almost felt sorry for her, but she could handle herself.

Lady Fagge leaned forward and placed a meaty hand on Ashley's arm. "We are having dinner and dancing at Coventry three nights hence, Major. I do hope you and your friends will be able to join us. We always need more male partners to make up the figures of the dances. My girls need some polish before their first Season." So she was aware of his troop's arrival. He should not be surprised. Like the bloodhounds that picked up scents from miles away, so were mamas with marriageable daughters.

"I am certain they will take quite well, just as they are," he said smoothly, proud that he did not choke on the words. "As for dinner, I am afraid I cannot answer for myself or my colleagues. We are here on a matter of duty, and unfortunately, all of our time and attention is committed to that."

"It sounds very serious," she said disapprovingly.

He spread his arms wide. "I am afraid that is the way these things go."

"I cannot imagine what business the Household Guard can have for you here, unless it pertains to horses," Rupert said a little more acutely than Ashley would have expected.

"Quite," Ashley remarked in a tone that was a perfected mixture of suppression and ennui. It was a necessary part of the position.

Tea was brought in, which at least gave them something to do. Dominic and Renforth had best be acquiring some good information from Sir Horace. Never let it be said that Ashley did not do his part.

His gaze settled on Miss Whitford's efforts to restrain the amorous Rupert. It was humorous, as long as the man did not actually touch her. Then he would be consigned to the devil.

She caught him staring and glared as Rupert leaned in and said something in her ear. It appeared as though she might be physically ill.

How the next scene unfolded, Ashley could not say, but no doubt Miss Whitford was grateful. The dog and cat tore through the drawing room, Freddy Tiger chasing Xander, knocking over one of the small side tables and the tea cups and plates that had been perched upon it. This scene was rapidly followed by a mortified footman, who was no doubt supposed to be keeping them under control.

His cheeks were burning red with embarrassment, and his livery was dishevelled from a probable chase through the house.

Ashley struggled not to burst into laughter. Miss Whitford saw it as her salvation. Quickly, she ran over and scooped the puppy up. He also took the opportunity to gather the cat, who was still hissing and growling his displeasure at the canine intruder.

The footman ground to a halt and stuttered out an apology. "I beg your pardon, miss. I brought him—" he angled his head towards the cat "—back inside, as Miss Joy asked me to do. I did not expect him to set up a chase through the house."

"I understand. They are still growing accustomed to one another. Freddy Tiger is not yet used to sharing the house. If you could take him up to our sitting room, then I will keep Xander with me."

He could hear a disapproving murmur from Lady Fagge, but Ashley understood it was her armour.

The young ladies were immediately taken in by the adorable visage of a fluffy puppy, and surrounded him once Freddy Tiger was gone. Even Rupert was not immune to his charms, though he looked on from a distance. "I've been looking for some retrievers myself. Mr. Cunningham bred them, you say?"

"Yes, indeed. He might even be willing to give you one if they are not already spoken for."

Clever girl.