A Rose in Winter (7 page)

"Old Ben waggled a drink or two from you, eh?"

Christopher eyed the other without comment, wondering why the man had approached him. His lack of a reply should have angered the intruder. Instead, the other gave a quick, disarming smile.

"Forgive me, sir." He reached out a friendly hand. "I am Allan Parker, the sheriff of Mawbry, appointed by Lord Talbot to protect the peace of these lands."

Christopher took the other's proffered hand and, introducing himself, watched the man for a reaction. There was no outward show that he had heard the name before, yet Christopher found it hard to believe that the story of his duel with Farrell had not reached the sheriff's ears.

"I believe 'tis part of my duty to warn strangers about Ben. Depending on the quality of whatever he drinks, he usually has a headful of ghosts, demons, and other hellish creatures. He should not be taken too seriously."

Christopher smiled. "Of course not."

The sheriff pondered him. "I don't remember ever seeing you here before. Are you from around these parts?"

"I have a town house in London, but one of my ships is in port at Wirkinton, and that is how I came to be here." Christopher supplied the information with no hesitation. "I'll be staying in Mawbry until I have concluded my business here."

"What business is that, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I came to collect a debt, and since the man seems to be lacking the wherewithall to pay, I might stay here a while as an added incentive for him to find it. In fact, the way it looks, I might have to take up temporary residence here."

The sheriff leaned his head back and laughed. "You'd probably do better taking something else in lieu of coin."

A lopsided grin twisted Christopher's lips. "My aspirations exactly, but I fear the man is stubbornly opposed to giving me what I want."

"Well, if you're seriously planning on taking up residence here, I should warn you there's no place but the inn for you to stay."

"Ben mentioned a manor house that was burned a few years back. He said the lord of the house was killed and that he knows of no kin who've come to claim the lands."

The man rubbed a hand nervously through his thick black hair. "I went out there myself soon after I arrived here, and though I've heard the rumor of a man being caught in the flames, I found no trace of a body. As for the manor, most of it still exists. Only the newer wing burned, as it was the only part built of wood. The stone of the old hall withstood the flames. Since the fire, the house has remained empty... unless, as some of the locals say, two ghosts roam the place, the old lord with a claymore spitting his breastbone, and the other one horribly burned and maimed." He frowned and shook his head slightly, as if confused. "Yet the tenants go about their labors as if they fully expect one of the Saxtons to return, and when Lord Talbot inquired about the lands, he was informed that the family has yet to relinquish title to it and that the taxes are still being paid."

"Who collects the rents?"

Allan stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Where did you say you came from?"

"What does that have to do with my question?" Christopher softened the query with a smile.

"I was just curious," Allan replied pleasantly.

"I'm from Boston, here to seek ports of trade for my ships." He arched a brow at the sheriff expectantly.

Allan shrugged and complied. "For the present I believe Lord Talbot collects the rents. He does it more or less as a favor for the family until something else is done about the ownership of the lands."

"Then he's not the one who pays the taxes?"

"Not when he desires to have the land. Why, 'twould be foolish of him to do so."

"Then perhaps this Lord Saxton isn't dead," Christopher responded. He rose to his feet and donned his long coat.

"I've been sheriff here for three years, and I've not seen any evidence that he's alive," Allan commented. He glanced around as a large carriage passed in front of the window, and quickly got to his feet. "That's Lord Talbot's coach now. He knows more about Saxton Hall than anyone around here. Come, I'll introduce you to him." Allan flashed him a smile. "If you're lucky, he'll have his daughter, Claudia, with him."

Settling his hat on his head, Christopher followed the man through the doorway and crossed the cobbled lane. A large, ornate carriage had halted a short distance from the inn, and the coachmen climbed down to hastily place a small stool before the door, which bore a lavish coat of arms. The decorative elements formed the larger part of the arms, and the shield itself was smallish and confused, thus making the three bars sinister it contained less obvious. The richness of the conveyance might have challenged those of royalty, and when Lord Talbot stepped out, his appearance proved to be just as overwhelming, for he was dressed in the brocades, laces, and silks of a bygone era. He was a man of middling years, yet well preserved. He faced the door and offered up his hand as a slim, dark-haired woman came into view. Her attire was more subdued, and from a distance she bore a striking resemblance to Erienne Fleming, yet on closer inspection Christopher discovered that she fell far short of the other's beauty. Her dark eyes narrowed too quickly in the outer corners and lacked the heaviness of lashes that fringed the pools of amethyst. Though her features could not be termed coarse, they were not as fine and delicate as those of the mayor's daughter, nor was her skin as fair. But then, it would be hard for any maid to equal or surpass the comeliness of the one he had already met.

Claudia Talbot paused beside her father, carefully pulling up the velvet hood of her cloak to protect her coiffure from the misting rain before slipping her gloved hand through the arm her father presented. Her eyes measured Christopher in a slow, exacting way that gave him every assurance that she was carefully assessing his physical attributes.

"Why, Allan," she purred when they neared, "I never thought you'd chase me down the street just to present another man to me. Aren't you the least bit jealous?"

The sheriff laughed and responded with like flirtation. "Claudia, I have every faith that you'll remain true to me even though confronting a full regiment of men." He swept his hand about to indicate the man at his side. "May I present Christopher Seton from Boston? A gentleman by the cut of his clothes, and if he's not careful, another one to be smitten by your charms."

"I am honored, Miss Talbot," Christopher responded, bowing gallantly over her gloved hand.

"My goodness, you are a tall one," she observed coyly.

Christopher was well acquainted with the antics of forward women and recognized the bold gleam in the dark eyes. If he wanted feminine companionship, then here was an open invitation.

"And this worthy gentleman is Lord Nigel Talbot," Allan said, concluding the introductions.

"Seton . . . Seton . . ." Lord Talbot repeated thoughtfully. "I've heard that name before."

"Perhaps you remember it from the misunderstanding I had with your mayor a few weeks ago," Christopher suggested.

Lord Talbot looked at him curiously. "So you're the one who dueled with Farrell, eh? Well, I can't hold that against you. That young whelp brews trouble wherever he goes."

"Mr. Seton is here in Mawbry on business," Allan stated. "He might be interested in acquiring a country estate close by."

Lord Talbot chuckled. "Then I wish you good fortune, sir. 'Tis a great undertaking to establish lands and tenants, but in the long run it does have its rewards if you manage to accumulate the desired power. One must have wealth, however, to proceed."

Christopher met the man's deliberate stare. "I was wondering about Saxton Hall."

"Oh, you don't want that place," Claudia advised sweetly. " 'Tis half burned and full of ghosts. Why, anyone around here can tell you the place has been plagued by disasters."

"I really can't imagine the possibility of a foreigner acquiring either the lands or the hall." Lord Talbot perused the Yankee speculatively. "Are you a man of occupation, or a gentleman of leisure?"

"Actually I'm a little of both." Christopher flashed white teeth in a quick grin. "I own several vessels that trade in ports around the world, but I'm also very much a man of leisure."

Claudia's dark eyes took on a new gleam. "You must be very rich."

Christopher shrugged casually. "I manage a few creature comforts."

"Saxton Hall would be a worthy estate with its holdings of lands, but I'm afraid it's not available." Lord Talbot gave him a brief smile. "If it were, I would have had it myself some time ago."

"Papa, you'd own all of England if the King would let you," Claudia teased, patting his arm.

His lordship turned a rueful smile on her. "I need it to keep you in the finery you demand."

Claudia giggled. "Which reminds me, Papa. I promised the dressmaker that I would come by to select material for a new gown. Since you have business with the mayor, I shall have to find my own escort." The corners of her lips lifted impishly as she met Christopher's gaze. "Can I be so bold as to ask you to accompany me, Mr. Seton?"

"Claudia!" Her father spoke in shocked reproof. "You just met the man!"

"Papa, all the eligible young men around here are frightened to death of you," Claudia protested as if it were an old argument. "If I don't take the initiative, I'll die an old spinster."

Christopher's lips twitched in amusement as he glanced at her father. The man seemed appalled by his daughter's gall. "With your permission, sir."

Lord Talbot reluctantly nodded his head, and a chuckle came from Allan as Christopher decorously presented his arm. With a self-satisfied nod, Claudia took it and strolled along beside him, holding her head high in triumph. With this man as her escort, she would once again enjoy the envy of every woman in Mawbry. When she noticed a lone feminine figure standing at an upper window of the mayor's cottage, she experienced a special thrill at being spied upon by that one. Claudia loathed the comparisons that were constantly made between the two of them and that left her the one wanting in regard to beauty. Indeed, she felt a delicious glee whenever anyone spoke of the sorry suitors the mayor had enticed to his daughter. Claudia's fondest wish was to see the other woman bound in wedlock to a horrible beast of a man.

" 'Twould seem that Claudia has found another one to occupy her for a spell," Allan observed with humor.

Lord Talbot groaned in mock pain. "I almost find myself wishing her mother might have survived a few years longer. Considering that nagging carp, you know my desperation."

The sheriff laughed and jerked his head toward the mayor's cottage. "Claudia said you have business with Avery. Shall I accompany you?"

Lord Talbot declined. "Nay. This matter is of a personal nature." He gestured toward the departing couple. "What you may do for me is to keep an eye on that brazen twit. I don't relish the idea of having a Yankee as kin."

Allan smiled. "I shall try my best, my lord."

"Then I'll leave you to be about it."

Lord Talbot strode purposefully to the mayor's cottage and rapped on the door with the silver head of his ornate walking stick. His knock was not answered immediately, and he was beginning to wonder if it would be, when the portal was opened a crack. Erienne peered through the opening and might have been relieved to find it was not Silas Chambers if his lordship had been more to her liking. He was not.

Lord Talbot pushed the door wider with his cane, forcing Erienne to retreat a step.

"Don't peek at me through cracks, Erienne." He smiled appreciatively as his eyes roamed freely over her. "I like to see people when I talk to them. Is your father home?"

Confused and suddenly nervous, Erienne bobbed a quick curtsy and hastily replied, "Oh, no, sir. He's abroad in the village somewhere. Though I can't be sure, I do expect him home any moment."

"Well then, with your permission I'll wait inside by the fire. 'Tis a most miserable day."

Lord Talbot brushed past her and paused to shrug out of his cloak and doff his tricorn, handing both to her before passing on to the parlor and leaving a chagrined Erienne to close the door and hang the dampened garments on a peg. When she entered the parlor, she found him already seated in a tall-backed chair in front of the fireplace. He had crossed his leg and, where the long frock coat fell aside, displayed a masculine length of limb covered with fine gray silk breeches and stockings. His eyes warmed as she came into his vision, and he gave her what he hoped was a most fatherly smile.

"My dear Erienne, you have done a most magnificent task of managing this house since your mother passed on. I trust you have been happy here. Your father certainly seems to have taken well to his duties. Why, just the other day..."

He continued with a stream of chatter, eyeing the girl as she moved about. He rambled on without interruption, not that he was the least bit ill at ease, but seeking rather to allay her tension, for she appeared quite unsettled with his presence. She was, after all, a most desirable wench, and he found it amazing that a man like Avery Fleming could sire such a one.

Erienne listened with half an ear as his voice droned on. She was well aware of the reputation of Nigel Talbot. His exploits had been bantered among the gossips several times since the Flemings had moved to Mawbry. Thus she made a point to pass the front windows often so that any watchers (and she knew there would be at least several) could see and be witness to her continued innocence.