A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing (11 page)

Hugh scraped his chair out from under the table and glared at his mother, his jaw set with annoyance. Ellie’s heart jammed in her throat. She stared at the mounds of food on her plate, waiting for the blow to fall.

“You adore horses, don’t you, Miss Ellie?” his mother prompted again. Ellie nodded, too unnerved to speak.

“Just a little business about that stallion I bought from your father,” Hugh said, sitting stiffly, then stuffing his mouth with applesauce so his mother couldn’t continue the conversation.

“Oh, I’m mad for horses!” cried Rosemarie. “We have several very nice ones at home.”

Hugh looked at her. “What do you like best about them, Miss Philapot?”

“Their noses. I’m mad for their noses.”

“I see,” said Hugh.

Poultney Bigalow spit food into his napkin. “Their noses, you say? Is it the length or the width of their noses you find most attractive?”

“I dare say both,” Algie charged in.

Rosemarie giggled. “What funny gentlemen.”

“Gentlemen?” Flavian said.

Seeing the conversation rapidly disintegrating, Lady Davenport cut it short. “Well, I hope you young ladies haven’t taken to riding astride. The farm girls are quite brazen about it.”

Ellie’s terror of Lank tattling on her turned to anger at Lady Davenport’s words. “Sometimes I envy the freedom of farm girls,” she said a little too brusquely.

“Do you?” Hugh said, sounding surprised.

“Well, astride is safer.”

“But it’s completely immodest,” exclaimed Lady Davenport, her breasts trembling with indignation. “A woman’s chances for safe childbirth are ruined.”

“From what I’ve seen, horseback riding hasn’t affected farm girl breeding habits in the least,” said Ellie. “I envy them the freedom to trade propriety for practicality.”

“That is the jurisdiction of the lower classes,” Lady Davenport declared. “It is our duty to show them a more delicate manner of living.”

“We show them at our peril,” Ellie said.

“But we do it all the same,” countered Lady Davenport, giving her a look meant to end the conversation.

“But we could take a cue from the lower classes,” Ellie continued. Hugh shifted in his seat to get a better view. He’d probably never witnessed someone take on his mother, Ellie realized. “If great ladies, such as yourself, Lady Davenport, decided to overlook riding astride for the sake of the safety of your own sex, fewer bones of the titled would be broken.”

Lady Davenport radiated forbearance. “Captain Hart,” she said, “would you like to see Miss Ellie with her legs parted over the back of a steed?”

Chase leaned on his elbow and suggestively stroked his lower lip. “I’d be unable to tear my eyes away.”

Ellie’s cheeks caught fire.

“Mr. Swift?” Lady Davenport asked Algie.

“A horse, a horse. My kingdom for a horse!” Algie cried. He smiled and batted his eyelashes at Ellie. Her face grew hotter.

“And you, Lord Bigalow?”

Poultney’s brows furrowed like two kissing caterpillars. “I’m sure seeing Miss Ellie astride a horse would be ecstasy,” he answered.

Ellie felt faint with embarrassment.

“You didn’t ask me,” Hugh interrupted. “I see little reason for a woman of society to damage her reputation by exposing herself to criticism, especially from people such as you, Mother. Sometimes a broken bone can be less painful than public censure.” He gave his mother a piercing look.

“Well, now you see, my dear,” Lady Davenport concluded. “Men dictate propriety. Older, wiser women, such as myself, enforce it. And for good reason.”

There was no point in continuing the argument. “I see,” Ellie said, and stuffed a glob of pork in her mouth. The suckling pig caught her eye again. This time, she could swear it winked.

• • •

It must have been midnight by the time Ellie heard the last stirrings of activity in the house. She rolled over and nudged Claire who shared the bed with her. Peggity had her own room a few doors down.

“All’s quiet,” she whispered. “Come help me find the pearls.”

Claire moaned and rolled over. “You keep the most ungodly hours,” she said.

“Shhhh.”

Ellie lit a candle and the two sneaked downstairs to the library. The spaniel slept in the cushioned chair. “Hullo, Sport,” Ellie whispered, fondling the dog’s ears to wake him as gently as possible.

“Who are you talking to?” said Claire.

“The dog’s made his bed here.”

“Well hurry, someone may come.”

Half asleep, the spaniel lifted his head and sniffed Ellie’s hand, but decided not to move. He lowered his nose back on his paws. She felt all around the sleeping dog, and reached deep into the clefts where the upholstery was sewed to the seat. Nothing. Sport rolled over and exposed his tummy for her to rub. Instead, Ellie scooped him into her left arm and gave the chair a thorough going over.

“Any luck?” Claire whispered.

“Ugh, this dog is heavy,” Ellie said, plunking the spaniel back in the chair. “I can’t imagine where that necklace could have strayed.” She got on her hands and knees and felt about on the floor. “I fell back in the chair. That’s got to be when the pearls left my pocket.”

The girls shined candlelight into every corner. Ellie made a complete survey of the room on her hands and knees. She found nothing.

Claire gasped. “Oh God.”

“What?”

“Maybe the spaniel ate it.”

“He couldn’t have. Could he?”

“Do you remember when one of the hounds ate Mama’s stocking?” Claire recalled. “When Duffy devoured the beef string, and the collie made off with Snap’s poppet? We’ll have to supervise this canine’s morning walk.”

“But I can’t. I’ve got to ride Manifesto for Lord Davenport.”

“I’ll walk him,” said Claire. “Surely it will be obvious if he passes something that big. Then I’ll come and get you to fish it out.”

“Lovely — but fair enough.”

The girls tiptoed from the library. They were heading for the stairs when Claire stopped and blew out the candle. “Wait,” she whispered, grabbing Ellie’s arm.

In the hallway above, Ellie saw the soft glow of a candle growing stronger as it moved closer. Outlined in its light, Chase Hart and Lady Davenport came into view.

“Are they together?” Ellie whispered.

“My God,” breathed Claire. “They are.”

The girls stepped into the deep shadow of the wall under the stairs.

“Kiss me on each step,” they heard Lady Davenport murmur as the couple began to descend the stairs. The sound of a kiss filled the darkness.

“Next stair. Now, tell me that you love me.”

“I love you, Aurelia.”

“Next stair. Kiss me again.”

“We shall be all night getting down the steps, my dear.” Chase said. “If you’ve something to show me, let’s get on with it.”

“You’re spoiling all my fun.”

The candle Claire held clunked on the floor.

“Did you hear something?” Chase hissed, pulling Lady Davenport into the shadows. He snuffed their candle, plunging the house into darkness.

“It was probably that pesky dog,” Lady Davenport whispered. “Take my hand. I’ll lead you.”

Ellie and Claire pressed harder against the wall.

“Don’t touch me. I’ve got to find them.”

“Chase, why are you so angry?”

“No one must know about us. If my uncle learned of our affair, he would blackmail you into poverty and me into slavery.”

They heard Chase descend swiftly. Ellie and Claire froze. He crashed into a side table a few feet ahead of them. “Bloody hell,” he cursed.

Using the noise as cover, Ellie dropped to her knees and flattened against the wall. She pulled Claire after her.

“Chase, are you mad?” Lady Davenport said in a loud whisper. “You won’t find anyone in the dark.”

“Then get down here and help me,” he hissed. “Someone’s here. I can sense it.”

“I’ll fetch a light.”

Groping with arms outstretched, Chase passed over the girls, and continued his search down the hall.

Ellie’s heart pounded in her chest. She touched Claire’s arm and they began crawling toward the stairs.

“I hear them. Aurelia, get out here, quick!” Chase said in a loud whisper.

With a quick backward glance, Ellie saw the glow of a lit candle approaching the open door of the library. The girls sprinted up the stairs and down the hall. Claire stopped at the door to their room, but Ellie dragged her past it. Instead, she opened the door leading upstairs to the servants’ quarters. She closed it just loud enough so Chase could hear. He bounded up the stairs after them, holding a candle that threw wild shadows against the wall.

She pulled Claire next to her in the deep dark beside a cupboard. They hugged each other in terror.

“Chase, wait,” Lady Davenport said.

“Like hell I will,” he responded. “We are in the gravest danger.” He opened the door to the servants’ quarters.

Breathing hard from her climb to the second floor, Lady Davenport hissed, “What are you going to do, wake everyone in the household? That would only make the danger worse.”

“If I find out who the spy is, I’ll kill him,” he said.

“Calm down, my love. Let’s not be murdering my servants. Besides, once you see my surprise, you’ll stop worrying about your wretched uncle.” She led him away.

Ellie and Claire stayed still as statues until the library door closed, shuttering the last bit of candlelight.

• • •

Hugh rolled over in bed for, he guessed, the fiftieth time. He grabbed his pillow, punched its feathers and turned it over to rest his head on the cool side. His thoughts were fixed on the image of Toby washing in the barn.
Gad, she’s marvelous. What a beauty, and so intelligent.

He heard a noise in the hall. Scuffling and talking. It sounded like his mother and Chase Hart. How lovely if he caught the old battleaxe in her sickening escapade.

He left the bed and opened the door to the hall so it wouldn’t creak. In the dim glow of starlight, Hugh saw a woman in her nightgown. The thin material silhouetted her body against the night sky. “Toby?” he whispered.

Another female figure appeared, blocking his view. “It’s the Albright girls,” a voice whispered back.

“Oh, terribly sorry,” Hugh said, quickly shutting his door. An ache filled his chest and his throat tightened.
If only she were Toby
, he thought.

• • •

“Look,” said Lady Davenport, holding the pearl necklace in the candlelight.

Chase fingered one moon-shaped orb. “My God, it’s magnificent. How much do you think we’ll get for it?”

“I’m estimating fifteen thousand pounds. Not a bad start to a new life, eh, my love?”

“We could add it to your considerable fortune, my dear. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about just having a good start.”

“You are a cunning devil, Chase. How I adore you, but as I’ve said, I’ll not take a shilling from my son’s inheritance. He’s earned every farthing.”

“Your son will have more than enough income from this estate and his seat in the House of Lords. Surely you can take what’s legally yours, my love. You’ve earned it, too.”

Lady Davenport rubbed the pearls against Chase’s cheek. “Believe me, with this necklace, your debt to your uncle will be gone and our life in America will be splendid. Kiss me and tell me you long for nothing more.”

Chase pulled away. “It’s not as simple as that. Money is not the only reason Uncle Wadsworth put me in his debt. He wants my services, and I must give them to him.”

“You shouldn’t mix yourself up in such an ugly business. Why should your uncle want the Albrights to suffer? They’ve done nothing to him.”

“My uncle wants money, and that’s all the reason he needs.”

“What a terrifying man.”

Chase laced his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “That’s why I need to fulfill his request, pay my debt to my uncle, and leave for America. That’s where I can see you well cared for and out of danger, my darling. You are my only concern.” He kissed her on the lips.

She sighed. “That’s the man who warms my heart.”

“When will we have the money for the necklace?”

“I’ll be making a trip to London in a few weeks’ time,” Lady Davenport said. “I’ll sell it then.”

“Bring back the money and let me book our tickets to America. I want to be sure we’re on the next boat off this godforsaken island.”

“It’s so exciting, Chase. Kiss me again, and tell me I’m a good girl for finding a getaway.”

He administered a quick peck. “Now, Aurelia, we need to think. Who does the necklace belong to?”

“I have no idea. It’s possible the pearls were dropped years ago and the spaniel dug them up.”

“Where are we going to hide it?” he asked, letting the strand run through his fingers.

“I have the perfect place for them,” she replied, skipping like a schoolgirl to the desk. She opened a side drawer and dropped the pearls in. Then she reached deep into her cavernous cleavage and pulled out a small brass key. “I’ll just lock the necklace in here, like this.” She inserted the key and twisted. Smiling at Chase, she lowered the key back between her bosoms. He laughed and dug down after it. When he’d retrieved the key, he held it in front of her nose, letting it glint in the light from the candle. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he said, then turned, took the candle, and walked out.

Lady Davenport smiled to herself. She lit another candle on the desk and followed him to the door of the library. As she passed the fern near the window seat, she tucked the necklace under its protective fronds.
It’s fortunate,
she thought,
that my darling Chase didn’t notice the hole in the bottom of that drawer.

• • •

The next morning the sun made a valiant attempt to burn off the morning fog. Mist clung to the ground and rolled in gray swirls beneath Manifesto’s churning hooves as the horse streaked toward the next fence. “Take him at it straight and low, Toby,” shouted Hugh from atop Valaire.

The two horses leaped and landed together. “Lower, lower!” Hugh cried. “Put his belly through the brush. Don’t lose time for height.”

The horses thundered toward the next fence. Manifesto launched high and wide, landing again in tandem with Valaire. “Low in the brush!” Hugh demanded, admiring for the hundredth time that morning the girl’s fearless handling of the gray stallion.